Boom!
Two rows of buildings sheared into four distinct segnts.
Caught in the destructive path, swarms of monsters were carved into equal-sized pieces.
With a single strike, over a hundred beasts fell.
The Adventurer who delivered the blow gripped Bakusaiga, feeling a surge of pure adrenaline ignite in his chest.
'So damn amazing!'
To execute a strike comparable to a hero's—a move that drew the eyes of every fighter on the battlefield—and to achieve it as a re third-rate Adventurer?
Who would believe that?
Yet right now, hundreds of his peers stood witness to his mont of glory!
"How's that! Now you know my true power!"
Basking in the spotlight, the Adventurer proudly shouted the line he had always dread of delivering!
A heartbeat later, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed face-first onto the dirt.
A classic symptom of Mind Down.
"Wait, pry the sword out of his hand, quick!"
"The instructions ntioned this flaw. The mont you grip the hilt, it absorbs mind without pause. You have to be careful!"
"That idiot got carried away and refused to let it go."
"I'm next!"
"Huh?"
"It is clearly my turn."
The Adventurers began to fight over the right to wield Bakusaiga, sensing a rare chance to peak in their unremarkable careers.
For the sake of bragging rights over the next few decades, modesty has vanished!
"My Magic stat is C! Let do it!"
"I am a B!"
"I am Level 3. Hand it over."
"I... I will wait in line. Just let go next, alright?"
The Level 3 Adventurer picked up Bakusaiga with a triumphant grin, but his expression soured.
Is this a joke?
The blade drained his mind at a monstrous rate!
No wonder the output was so imnse.
The user manual stated that Bakusaiga compressed absorbed Magic and released the amplified energy through the tip of the blade in a single, devastating slash.
That was Bakusaiga's primary function.
Or rather, it served as a knock-off version of Zangetsu. A certain substitute Shinigami's signature move, Getsuga Tenshō, operated on this exact principle.
Thanks to that protagonist's heaven-defying Reiatsu, the power of a true Getsuga Tenshō bordered on the absurd.
Bakusaiga and Tenseiga shared the sa foundational forging techniques and an identical flaw: once a wielder gripped the hilt, the weapon drained their mind without restraint.
Even if the user died from Mind Down, Bakusaiga would not stop feeding. Unlike the benevolence radiating from Tenseiga, this blade embodied raw destruction.
It devoured Magic to obliterate everything in its path.
Its operational lifespan capped at one hundred hours, and heavy use accelerated its eventual self-destruction.
Though it would ultimately break, compared to the frail Crozzo Magic Swords that shattered after a handful of swings, Bakusaiga possessed superior durability.
More importantly, it could be passed freely from person to person!
"Take this!"
Another strike roared across the battlefield.
The encroaching monsters were sliced into bloody fragnts before they could register the threat.
The attack drained the Level 3 Adventurer dry.
dics dragged the unconscious bodies to the rear dical stations, lining them up like corpses.
"What the hell is going on?!" Valetta kicked a stone wall, cracking the masonry, before venting her frantic rage on the walkway beneath her boots.
She stomped down hard, pounding the wall with her fists. "How can those bastards withstand such an offensive attack! Orario's vanguard should not be this resilient!"
...
Boom!
"AAAAAAH!"
A towering figure landed on the ruined streets.
With a single casual blow from him, he executed over fifty frontline fighters.
He walked straight toward Babel. Not a single Adventurer dared to impede his path as they broke their formation and retreated.
"Z-Zald."
"Damn it, how can we possibly match a Level 7?!"
"Get out of the way!"
An Adventurer wielding Bakusaiga broke ranks and charged forward.
Wearing a triumphant smile, he poured his remaining Magic into the blade, causing a volatile blue aura to radiate from the edge.
"Gluttony, rember this! The man who defeats you is Di—huh?"
As the Adventurer prepared to swing, Zald blurred into motion, appearing directly before the man to grip his wrist.
With a light squeeze, Zald snapped the man's bone.
The Adventurer shrieked in agony. His fingers went limp, dropping Bakusaiga as Zald casually caught the falling weapon.
His stoic expression shifted.
He looked down at the eerie sword emitting a harsh blue glow.
'This sword... is absorbing my Magic? not only that it also retained the residual magic stored from the previous wielder.'
'What kind of blade is this?'
"This is bad!"
"Bakusaiga fell into Zald's hands!"
"Are you kidding ? We're so cooked!"
"Fall back!"
"Wait, he doesn't know how to use that sword, and it will drain his Magic too! Maybe..."
Just as the optimistic Adventurer spoke, Zald raised Bakusaiga toward their retreating line.
It was over.
Pure despair clouded their minds as it becoming their final thought.
Zhing!
Zald swung the sword.
An earth-shattering wave of energy erupted from Zald's hand. Fueled by the dense Magic of a Level 7, Bakusaiga released a strike ten tis larger than any previous attack!
Two rows of stone houses crumbled to dust and the colossal blue slash extended for several ters, slamming into the massive ice wall Riveria had erected.
The defensive frost shattered without resistance and the arc continued flying straight toward Babel.
"What?!" Finn's usual composure cracked.
His heart skipped a beat as he watched the colossal slash approach the tower, carrying enough montum to cleave Babel in half.
'Damn it, what kind of monstrous power is that?!'
None of the tactical counterasures he had formulated could resolve the impending impact.
Just as the defenders braced for Babel's destruction, a heavy figure shot out like a fired bolt, leaping high into the air.
It was Ottar.
The Boarman poured his raw strength into his own Zanpakuto and roared, "Roar, Tenken!"
"Stop. right. there!"
The spectral, hundred-foot-long blade materialized in the sky.
The massive phantom sword t the blue slash unleashed by Zald as the two forces locked in a violent stalemate.
"Kh—Damn it!" Thick veins bulged across Ottar's neck and arms.
The imnse blood pressure turned his skin a deep, flushed red and he committed his full power to this intercepting strike.
Yet, he barely held the incoming shockwave at a standstill.
If his grip faltered, the energy would push him back, and Babel would fall.
His Goddess was still inside! He refused to yield!
He would not let this attack touch the tower behind him.
"HRAAAAAAAAH!!!" Ottar desperately squeezed out every remaining ounce of his strength, disregarding the tearing of his own muscles to push back.
...
Down on the street, Zald lowered his arm, genuinely astonished by the display.
'This sword? What exactly is it?'
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