Chereads / Reforged Soul - The Rise of Satori Shi / Chapter 10 - Echoes of the Moonlit Blade

Chapter 10 - Echoes of the Moonlit Blade

Satori found himself standing in a moonlit city that seemed older than time itself. The cobblestone streets glimmered faintly, reflecting the light of countless glowing lanterns. The architecture felt ancient yet alive, pulsing with an energy he couldn't quite place.

A golden path appeared before him, shimmering as though it beckoned him forward.

Quest Initiated: Sword Master Beginnings

Follow the guide path to the 11th Division training grounds.

Satori rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze narrowing at the strange sight. "Another dream? What kind of system throws me into these?" Despite his complaints, curiosity gnawed at him, urging him to follow the path.

As he moved, the silence of the city surrounded him. There was no wind, no distant chatter just an oppressive, heavy stillness.

The 11th Division Training Grounds

The path ended at an expansive training ground where Soul Reapers moved in coordinated chaos. Groups of warriors practiced forms, sparred, and honed their skills, their presence electric with determination. Yet, none of them looked at Satori.

He stepped closer, waving a hand in front of a swordsman mid-strike. No reaction. It hit him like a bolt they can't see me.

"It's just a dream," he whispered, a mix of relief and unease washing over him. "But why does it feel so... real?"

His thoughts were interrupted by a thunderous laugh. At the far end of the grounds sat a massive man, his long hair tied back in a loose ponytail, his grin as wide as a canyon.

"Kenpachi Kuruyashiki…" Satori murmured, recognizing the legendary Soul Reaper from the Bleach light novels . "He was the Kenpachi from way back before Zaraki, right? The one who got invited to the Zero Division."

Kuruyashiki sat with his vice captain, sharing drinks and exchanging stories. Satori couldn't hear much over the clamor of the training, but fragments of their conversation drifted to him.

"Zero Division, huh?" Kuruyashiki chuckled, his deep voice carrying easily. "Those pompous fools think sitting on pedestals makes them gods. I'm not interested in their golden cages."

His vice-captain raised an eyebrow. "And yet they extended the invitation to you. Says a lot about your skill."

Kuruyashiki scoffed, finishing his drink in one gulp. "I have a duty as a kempachi here there no need for me to leave."

The two laughed heartily, their camaraderie unmistakable. Satori felt a pang of admiration and envy.

The golden path reappeared, leading Satori to a rack of training swords. A prompt flashed in his vision.

Objective: Learn the Forms of Hen Underfoot.

Without hesitation, he grabbed a practice blade. It was heavier than he expected, the hilt rough against his untrained hands. He tried imitating the Soul Reapers nearby, their movements fluid and precise.

"Alright," he muttered, raising the blade for the first form. "Moon Rise Over the Lake."

The blade wobbled as he swung downward, the weight throwing him off balance.

Progress Check:

Moon Rise Over the Lake: 1%

"Great," Satori groaned. He adjusted his grip and tried again, putting more force into the motion. The sword clattered to the ground as his arms gave out.

Progress Check:

Moon Rise Over the Lake: 2%

The forms were supposed to flow like water, but every movement felt like slogging through mud. His muscles burned, sweat poured down his face, and frustration gnawed at his resolve.

Around him, the Soul Reapers continued their practice, oblivious to his presence. Their mastery made his clumsy attempts feel even more pathetic.

Hours or what felt like hours passed, and Satori's progress remained abysmal. Every swing was wrong. Every stance was awkward.

He collapsed to his knees, the sword slipping from his trembling hands. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body screaming in protest.

Just as despair began to settle in, laughter echoed across the courtyard. Satori looked up to see Kuruyashiki and his vice-captain finishing their drinks.

"Enough rest," Kuruyashiki said, cracking his neck as he stood. "Let's see if I still remember those old forms."

Satori's eyes widened as the legendary Kenpachi picked up his blade. The Soul Reapers around him stopped what they were doing, watching in awe as he began his

Kuruyashiki's movements were a stark contrast to Satori's. The blade seemed weightless in his hands, each motion deliberate yet fluid.

Moon Rise Over the Lake: A high guard transitioned into a downward slash, the blade gleaming like moonlight on water.

Moon on Water: A rippling horizontal cut that flowed into a defensive parry.

Courtier Taps His Fan: A subtle redirection of an opponent's strike, followed by a swift counter.

The Boar Rushes Downhill: A powerful, charging motion that shattered an invisible guard.

The Falcon Stoops: A sudden, diving attack that struck with pinpoint accuracy.

Arc of the Moon: A wide, crescent-shaped slash that seemed to carve the air itself.

Kissing the Adder: A deceptive feint, the blade darting like a snake before delivering a precise strike.

Oak Shakes the Branches: A defensive maneuver that absorbed and redirected force.

River Undercuts the Bank: A low, sweeping strike that targeted an opponent's balance.

Folding Fan: The finale, a series of rapid, elegant strikes that ended in a dramatic salute to the moon.

Each movement was mesmerizing, a testament to years of experience and raw talent. Satori couldn't tear his eyes away, his heart pounding with renewed

"Alright," Satori muttered, standing shakily. "If he can do it, so can I."

He picked up his blade again, his grip steadier this time. He visualized Kuruyashiki's movements, trying to mimic the first form. The blade still felt heavy, but this time he adjusted, letting the weight guide the motion.

Progress Check:

Moon Rise Over the Lake: 10%

The improvement was minor, but it was enough to ignite a spark in him. He practiced the form again and again, each repetition shaving away his hesitation.

Pain lanced through his muscles, but he pushed through it, his focus narrowing to the blade and the moonlit courtyard.

As Satori sat there, defeated, a memory surfaced a faint echo of a voice.

"You don't stop when things get hard, Satori. You push through. If you give up, you'll never see the other side."

It was Hana's voice, warm and steady, from a distant moment in his past life. She had always been his anchor, the one who believed in him even when he doubted himself.

Her words repeated in his mind, clearer this time:

"You keep moving forward, no matter how steep the climb."

His chest tightened. For a moment, he could almost see her standing beside him, her gentle smile urging him on.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, forcing himself to his feet. "I'm not giving up," he whispered. "Not this time.

With Hana's words in his heart, Satori picked up the sword again. He steadied his stance, focusing on the flow of the movement rather than the weight of the blade.

"Moon Rise Over the Lake," he said, swinging once more. This time, the motion felt slightly smoother, the blade cutting through the air with a faint whistle.

Progress Check:

Moon Rise Over the Lake: 15%

Encouraged, he tried again. And again. His arms screamed in protest, but he refused to stop, Hana's voice driving him forward

Hours passed in the moonlit city, or so it felt. Satori's world narrowed to the blade in his hands and the ache in his muscles. The forms were slow to come, each movement riddled with imperfections, but something had changed.

His grip steadied, his footwork became less clumsy, and the once-awkward weight of the blade began to feel natural. Though far from mastery, the incremental improvements stoked his determination.

Progress Check:

Moon Rise Over the Lake: 30%

Moon on Water: 10%

Satori let out a sharp breath, the sting of his blistered hands barely registering anymore. He adjusted his stance for the next attempt, replaying Kuruyashiki's demonstration in his mind.

"It's not just about strength," he muttered, positioning the blade. "It's about flow."

He raised the sword again, this time imagining the crescent glow of the moon reflected on still waters. His arms moved, less forced, more in tune with the image in his mind.

Progress Check:

Moon Rise Over the Lake: 50%

For the first time, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The ground beneath him trembled. Satori froze mid-swing, the training grounds shifting before his eyes. The Soul Reapers continued their silent practice, unaffected by the change, but Satori's golden path vanished.

From the shadows, a voice echoed cold, sharp, and disdainful. "Struggling with the basics, I see. Pathetic."

Satori turned sharply, the blade trembling in his hands. From the darkness emerged a figure cloaked in shadow, its features obscured save for a pair of piercing eyes.

"Who what are you?" Satori asked, his voice steady despite the creeping dread.

The figure ignored the question, stepping closer. "You wield that blade like a child playing soldier. Do you truly think you can ascend with such mediocrity?"

Satori gritted his teeth, the words cutting deeper than he cared to admit. "I'm learning. Everyone starts somewhere."

The figure chuckled, the sound as hollow as an empty shell. "Learning? You're wasting time. In this world, hesitation is death. Weakness is a sin. Prove to me that you're worth the effort it takes to watch you."

Before Satori could respond, the figure lunged. A blade materialized in its hand, dark and jagged, aimed directly at his chest. Satori barely managed to raise his training sword in time, the impact rattling his arms.

"You're insane!" he shouted, stumbling backward.

The figure didn't reply, its strikes relentless. Each swing forced Satori to defend, his body moving on instinct.

Progress Check:

Moon on Water: 25%

The defensive form came to him in fragments, his parries clumsy but effective enough to keep the blade from finding its mark.

"Too slow," the figure hissed, sweeping low. Satori jumped back, narrowly avoiding the strike, only to trip and fall. The figure loomed over him, its blade poised for a final blow.

"Get up," it sneered. "Or stay down and rot in your mediocrity."

Satori's mind raced. He had no technique, no strategy just desperation and Hana's voice echoing in his ears.

"Keep moving forward."

With a roar, Satori rolled to the side and swung his blade upward. The figure deflected it easily, but the movement bought him enough time to stand.

"Good," it said, a hint of approval in its voice. "But good isn't enough."

The clash resumed, Satori's movements growing sharper with every exchange. He began to recognize patterns in the figure's strikes, predicting its next moves.

"Moon on Water," he whispered, executing the defensive form with newfound confidence. The training blade caught the figure's strike and redirected it, creating an opening.

Without thinking, Satori transitioned into the next form.

"The Boar Rushes Downhill!" he shouted, charging forward. His strike was raw and unrefined, but it carried enough force to drive the figure back.

Progress Check:

Moon on Water: 50%

The Boar Rushes Downhill: 20%

The figure's laughter rang out, but it no longer felt mocking. "Perhaps you're not a waste after all."

Satori collapsed to his knees, the training sword slipping from his grasp. Despite the pain and exhaustion, a small, triumphant smile crept across his face.

"I'm not done yet," he said, staring at the glowing notification. "This is just the beginning."

As the city began to fade, Hana's voice echoed one last time.

"You keep moving forward, Satori. Always forward."

Satori barely had time to catch his breath before the figure's voice cut through the silence, a mocking chuckle that sent a shiver down his spine.

"So, you want to continue?" it said, its tone dripping with menace. The figure's silhouette seemed to grow, the air around it vibrating with barely contained energy. "You've chosen the hard road, boy. Very well. Let's see if you can survive what's next."

Satori gripped his practice sword tighter, sweat rolling down his face. "What's next?" he muttered, heart pounding.

The figure stepped forward, its blade gleaming with a sinister aura. "You've got big shoes to fill, little dreamer," it said. "But before you start thinking too highly of yourself"

It paused, raising its blade to the sky. The air around them grew thick, oppressive, as if the city itself were holding its breath. The figure's voice echoed, commanding and otherworldly:

As the figure raised blade high in the air distorting Satori breath hitched as spiritual pressure sky rocketed and weight nearly crushing him .

"Shikai release!

Massacre the auspicious omens and come into being; respect the darkness as you become decrepit with age! Devour all, Gagaku Kairō!"

A piercing, otherworldly roar filled the void as the figuer blade transformed, manifesting a massive ,white sphere ,grotesquely large with jagged fangs protruding jagged fangs protruding from it.

It was the size of a bear, and its mouth gaped wide, filled with fangs, but no

eyes, no nose, no limbs-just a

cavernous, devouring maw.

Satori staggered back as the

creature charged forward, its fangs

snapping shut with terrifying speed.

The sheer force of the attack left

cracks in the air, sending

shockwaves through Satori's body.

He barely managed to sidestep the

attack, but the weight of his body

and the ferocity of the assault sent

him stumbling.

He gritted his teeth, his legs

wobbling beneath him. "How am |

supposed to fight that?" His voice

barely rose above a whisper as

panic began to sink in.

The figure chuckled, dark

amusement in its voice. "You don't.

You survive."

The creature lunged again, and this

time, Satori wasn't fast enough. Its

enormus jaws closed around his

practice blade with a sickening

crack, shattering it as if it were

made of paper.

The creature tossed

him aside like a ragdoll, sending him

crashing into the ground with a

bone jarring thud.

Blood sprayed

from his side, mixing with the dirt as

he gasped for

is vision blurred

with the stings.

Satori struggled to push himself to

his knees, blood dripping from his

lips, the taste of iron sharp on his

tongue. His head spun, and the

world felt like it was closing in

around him.

The creature approached again, its

eyes-if they could be called that-

fixed on him with malicious intent. It

terrifying that it

roared, a sound

very earth

seemed to m

tremble.

Satori clenched his fists, blood

staining his palms as he gripped a

shard of his broken blade. It was

jagged and uneven, but it was all he

had left.

The creature snapped its massive

jaws, aiming for Satori's throat. He

managed to roll out of the way just

in time, narrowly avoiding the deadly

fangs that could have torn him

apart.

His body screamed in protest,

his muscles on fire from the

exertion, but there was no time to

stop. He had to keep moving.

As he stumbled to his feet, a faint,

familiar voice echoed in the back of

his mind.

"You don't stop when things get

hard, Satori. You push through. If

you give up, you'll never see the

other side."

Hana's voice.

It was distant, but it

was clear, warm, and steady-a

voice that had always been his

anchor in the storm.

Satori's breath hitched, a pang of

emotion tightening his chest. His

grip on the blade tightened. "I'm not

giving up" he whispered through clenched teeth "I'm Not giving up after all this."

The figure watched with

amusement, clearly underestim ating

Satori's will to fight.

"Still standing?" it purred, its voice

dripping with derision. "Impressive,

but pointless."

Satori glared at the figure, his blood

staining the ground beneath him as

he stood firm, despite his injuries.

He could feel the pain in his body-

the exhaustion, the blood soaking

through his clothes-but it didn't

matter. Hana's words burned in his

mind.

The creature lunged again, its jaws

snapping shut with terrifying speed.

Satori managed to sidestep, his side

Screaming in pain but this time, he

was more focus

His eyes locked

onto the creature massive maw.

He gritted his teeth. This was his

chance.

With a primal yell, Satori thrust the

broken blade forward, his arm

shaking from the strain. The jagged

edge of the blade scraped against

the creature's fangs, sending sparks

flying. The creature reeled back with

a howl of pain, a sickening, oily ichor

pouring from the wound.

He gritted his teeth. This was his

chance.

With a primal yell, Satori thrust the

broken blade forward, his arm

shaking from the strain.

The jagged

edge of the blade scraped against

the creature's fangs, sending sparks

flying. The creature reeled back with

a howl of pain, a sickening, oily ichor

pouring from the wound.

"Moon on Water."

He pivoted, the blade deflecting one

of the creature' napping jaws. Then

a quick,

counterstrike

horizontal slash.

The forms, so foreign and

impossible just hours ago, were

becoming more instinctive with

every second.

His vision blurred, his-

body shook with exhaustion, but his

resolve only hardened.

"Courtier Taps His Fan."

A subtle, calculated move. He

redirected the creature's strike,

using its own momentum to twist

and create an opening. Blood

sprayed from his own wounds, but

the creature's vulnerability was

clear.

The figure watched with an

unreadable expression, its voice low

but filled with a trace of

amusement. "Not bad. But can you

keep up?"

Satori's body was barely holding

together, blood staining his hands,

his clothes, the ground beneath him

The creature's attacks had left deep

gashes iin his body, and his vision

as starting to fade. But he wouldn't

stop. He couldn't.

With his breath ragged, his body

screaming in agony, Satori pushed

through. The pain became an

afterthought. His body was falling

apart, but his spirit-his will-was

unbroken.

The creature lunged again. Satori

swung his broken blade, this time

with all the strength he had left. It

Connected. The creature let Out an

agonized roar as the blade sliced

into its side, deep enough to sever a

fang.

It wasn't over. But Satori had just

proven something to himself. He

could rise to the occasion.

The battle raged on, but for the first

time, Satori could feel it. The gap

was closing.

He wasn't just fighting

to survive anymore. He was fighting

to win.

Blood splattered the ground in every

direction. His wounds were deep,

but he moved with the grace and

focus of someone who had found

their purpose in the chaos. His

hands shook, but his spirit burned

brighter than ever.

The figure smiled, a dark approval in

its eyes. "You may not be finished,

Satori. But you've certainly earned right for me to recognize you as my master .

The monstrous creature let out a final, anguished roar, collapsing in a heap before dissolving into nothingness. Satori stood shakily, blood dripping from his wounds, his body trembling from the sheer toll the battle had taken on him. He could hardly see straight, his vision swimming from exhaustion and the pain coursing through his battered body.

Before him, the figure who had been a faceless, oppressive force throughout the trial shifted, its monstrous presence unraveling into something far more humanoid. The air around it swirled like the remnants of a storm, the oppressive darkness lifting to reveal a glowing, ethereal figure. The sword spirit, its true form now clear, stood tall and imposing, yet there was an undeniable aura of ancient power about it.

"You have done well, Satori Shi," the figure said, its voice now deep, resonating with the weight of ages. "This was not a mere battle... but a test. A trial to see if you were worthy of wielding Kuruyashiki's blade."

Satori staggered back, blinking in confusion. "Kuruyashiki's blade?" he repeated, barely able to keep his thoughts focused.

The figure nodded, its features now softer but no less intimidating. "Yes. I am the spirit bound to the blade you held—the one you have fought to control. The blade that once belonged to the great Kenpachi Kuruyashiki. He was the one who wielded me with strength and wisdom."

Satori's breath hitched. His mind reeled with the revelation. This had been a test, but not just for any sword. It was for the very weapon that had been wielded by one of the most legendary Soul Reapers. He had been fighting not only for his survival, but for a legacy.

"And you passed," the sword spirit continued. "But only barely." A shadow of a grin appeared on the spirit's face, though it was more somber than anything. "Had I pushed you any harder in this trial, you surely would have died."

Satori's heart pounded as the weight of the statement hit him. He wasn't sure whether to feel relief or horror. Had he truly been so close to death, even after everything he had endured?

The figure's expression softened again. "You showed resilience. You showed resolve. And most importantly, you showed that you are capable of taking the mantle that Kuruyashiki left behind."

Satori staggered to his knees, barely able to stay upright as the spirit loomed before him. The blade that had been shattered was now floating, hovering beside the spirit. It was whole again, gleaming with a faint, ethereal glow.

"Now," the spirit said, "It is time for you to name me. You are the one who will wield me, and it is fitting that you choose a name for the weapon that will be your companion."

Satori blinked, his thoughts hazy. A name. A name for a blade that had once belonged to the greatest of Kenpachis. He had never considered something like this. It felt like such an enormous decision, one that carried the weight of history.

But then, as if by instinct, a thought came to him a name, soft and delicate, yet full of meaning.

"I… I'll name you Tsubaki," Satori said, the name rolling off his tongue as though it had always been there. "After the camellia flower. It blooms in the coldest seasons, like the moon resilient and beautiful in the darkest of times."

The sword spirit's expression shifted, something akin to a silent approval flickering within its gaze.

"Tsubaki," the spirit repeated, the name hanging in the air. "A fitting name for one who walks through the darkness, seeking the light. The moonlight... that is what you shall become."

The blade's glow intensified for a moment, as if it were acknowledging the name. Then, the spirit's voice softened, almost gentle. "From now on, we are bound. Tsubaki shall be the name of the weapon that will carry you forward. You will face trials greater than this one, Satori Shi. But now, you are not alone."

Satori's eyes fluttered open, the faint warmth of a morning sun creeping through his window. He gasped for breath, his body still aching, and the soreness that had once felt unbearable was now something distant. His clothes were soaked with sweat, and his heart still pounded in his chest, but there was no blood—only the remnants of the battle in his mind.

He sat up quickly, his surroundings suddenly clear: his own room. The walls were simple and unadorned, and the smell of paper and ink filled the air. Satori rubbed his eyes, confused and disoriented for a moment, but then his gaze fell to his hands. His fingers brushed against the familiar smooth surface of an artifact book.

It was Kuruyashiki's Biography, the one he had been tasked with completing. It wasn't just any book—it was the key to the trial he had just endured. He looked down at the book, now fully completed, its pages glistening as if fresh from the press, despite the dust that had once covered its edges.

Quest Completed: Artifact Quest: Kuruyashiki's Biography

Objective: Complete the biography of Kenpachi Kuruyashiki and prove your worthiness.

Reward: Tsubaki (Zanpakuto), Spirit Binding.

To be continued...