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Help! I am bound to Aizen!-Chapter 319
Chapter 319
2-in-1 chapter:
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Hearing Kaelith’s answer, Yamamoto was pleased.
Having known this “troublesome disciple” for so many years, he could easily tell if Kaelith was lying. Thankfully, while he often angered Yamamoto, Kaelith had never disappointed him on crucial matters of principle.
Yamamoto opened his mouth to say something, but Kaelith spoke first, looking smug:
“Deal with you, Teacher? I’m more than enough on my own. Why would I need anyone else’s help?”
“…?”
Within the First Division headquarters, flames blazed skyward.
Kaelith’s figure, accompanied by a wail of anguish, hurtled into the heavens.
Yamamoto sheathed his Zanpakutō, exhaling deeply.
Regarding Kaelith, his feelings were complicated.
He had witnessed how Kuchiki Kōga fell from grace—Kōga’s crippling inferiority complex, coupled with Ginrei’s difficulty expressing care. The two came together in a tragic way.
Kaelith was the opposite: the notion of “inferiority” likely never crossed his mind at all.
But the problem was that he had too much confidence. If he went on dominating everything without meeting a single real obstacle, Yamamoto worried that, in time, Kaelith might find himself isolated at the top, uncertain of his own path or worse, twisting himself psychologically to do something foolish.
As his teacher, Yamamoto needed to guide him carefully.
At the very least, while Yamamoto still lived, Kaelith must understand someone could still hold him in check.
As for the time after his own death…
Yamamoto’s gaze dipped.
Yhwach’s revival drew closer day by day.
Even Yamamoto couldn’t promise certain victory. If he perished, the Soul Society’s future would rest squarely on that lad.
*Forgive me, brat… I know I’m placing too heavy a burden on you far too soon. But time’s no longer on our side…*
…
In Las Noche’s grand hall, Ulquiorra knelt on one knee, head deeply bowed.
“I deeply apologize, Lord Kaelith.”
He kept his eyes shut, filled with regret.
How foolish, causing such trouble in the Soul Society. Had it not been for the Shinigami of “Kaelith’s faction” intervening, he might have ruined Kaelith’s plans entirely. Returning to Hueco Mundo, he’d even considered ending his own life.
Lounging on a huge throne, Kaelith gazed down at him.
Not far away, Baraggan lolled in another chair, gloating as he watched.
Though Baraggan had surrendered to Kaelith, he generally abstained from most day-to-day matters in Hueco Mundo. The aging monarch had a peculiar ability that made him ill-suited for standard tasks, and he claimed to care deeply for Las Noches. Even if Kaelith had reshaped it beyond recognition, Baraggan refused to let it fall. Whenever Kaelith led expeditions outside, Baraggan guarded their home base—like a dependable goose.
A Shinigami might not be loyal to the Seireitei, but was always loyal to Yamamoto Genryūsai, the old saying went.
Similarly, Baraggan might not be loyal to Kaelith, but he was loyal to Las Noches.
In his downtime, Baraggan had found a new hobby—clutching a handheld “lsp” console. Over the past two weeks, he’d guided Jo○ya and Es○al on carefree adventures across a fantasy continent. Much more pleasant than monster-slaying or tower raids.
Hearing Ulquiorra’s apology, Baraggan paused his game, lifting his head.
“Tsk… No point in sweet words if you messed up so big. In my era, fools like you would’ve been ripped apart, a treat for my subordinates.”
Kaelith waved a hand dismissively:
“Show me what happened at the time.”
At his lord’s request, Ulquiorra rose and, without hesitation, plucked out one of his own eyes, crushing it to shards.
An illusionary footage played in midair, displaying his encounter with that Koshima noble, culminating in the kill.
Seeing how that noble scion spoke of Kaelith, the Arrancar all grew grim-faced.
That wretch’s mouth… If it were them, they wouldn’t even have given three chances. One insult, and he’d be dead.
Kaelith smiled wryly.
“I assumed it was something major…turns out it was just that.”
“In the Soul Society, loads of people dislike me. You could find hundreds with that attitude in the Noble District if you stirred them up.
“If you killed them all one by one, you’d never do anything else but slaughter them day after day.”
Ulquiorra frowned:
“Why? Lord Kaelith is so strong—why don’t they respect you in the Seireitei?”
“Because their world’s not just about fighting; they have politics, etiquette, and so on. I’m not so good at those. If you want to learn, talk to Sōsuke,” Kaelith joked.
Ulquiorra fell into pensive silence.
If learning such politics might show him what “the human heart” was…
“Hah! I got no interest in that nonsense,” Grimmjow snarled. “Might makes respect, and the weak are trash.”
“You’re too extreme,” Kaelith sighed.
Ultimately, the verdict on Ulquiorra was that he’d go to the World of the Living, working as a staffer in Yūtendō Inc., helping with the next-gen LSP console promotions.
Kaelith believed that job could teach Ulquiorra plenty about “politics” and “human interactions.”
After that, Kaelith asked Harribel and the others about their impressions of the Soul Society trip. Only Nelliel found it interesting. The rest found it boring compared to Hueco Mundo.
Kaelith was astonished—Hueco Mundo, a lifeless desert under an eternal moon, was that appealing? Possibly their “love of home.”
After wrapping up, Kaelith found a Gigai for Ulquiorra and effectively… “banished” him to the Living World. Before he left, Kaelith reminded him not to use violence, and to think of himself as an average human. Ulquiorra promised to do his best.
…
At the Noble District in the Seireitei, a Tsunayashiro elder sneaked up to a certain house, confirming no one nearby, then slipped in and shut the door behind him.
Inside, Aizen sat leisurely at a desk, sipping tea.
“Welcome back Kōhei-san, want some tea?”
“N-no, not at all…”
The elder dabbed cold sweat from his forehead.
“How did it go?” Aizen set down his cup, tone mild.
Tsunayashiro Kōhei quickly explained, “Exactly as you predicted. The other three families stood by Kaelith, and I, too, stepped in early. With the top noble houses all backing him, none of the other nobles had any complaints left.”
Aizen nodded, unsurprised.
“And how did Captain-Commander Yamamoto react?” His glasses glinted, obscuring his expression, but Kōhei knew well that behind those lenses lurked a mind that calculated every possibility.
“He…didn’t seem to care much. Seeing the four clans side with Kaelith, his initially firm stance softened somewhat, and he left soon after,” the elder said.
Aizen paused in thought for a few seconds, then smiled.
“Got it. You did well, Kōhei.”
“Not at all, Vice-Captain Aizen.”
Seeing Aizen in a decent mood, Kōhei mustered courage to ask:
“Um, about my grandson…?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll ensure his safety,” Aizen replied gently.
“As long as you serve me faithfully, not only will I protect him, I’ll cultivate him into a warrior on par with Shiba Isshin. Tsunayashiro’s younger generation…besides Tsunayashiro Shitan, no one has potential, and Shitan offended Yū. He can’t lead your house.
“If your grandson shows promise, guess whose hands the Tsunayashiro House might end up in?”
At that, Kōhei’s eyes lit with excitement.
“Thank you, Vice-Captain Aizen! I’ll do my utmost!”
After repeated thanks, he backed out of the room.
Watching him go, Aizen shook his head slightly.
Such was the nobility, indeed… Even as the world neared crisis, they cared only about internal power.
Compared to them, Shiba Isshin was quite the oddity among major clans.
He found himself pondering: If he did train Kōhei’s grandson, shaping him as he pleased, then hoisting him to lead the Tsunayashiro House…maybe that clan would improve?
That notion gave him a strange feeling.
If he’d not stepped onto this path of “reformation,” he might have thrived in education. The old generation, rotten to the core, was beyond saving, but the next generation… he could mold them.
*Huh, maybe I should stroll the Shin’ō Academy more, see what we can do.* he mused.
…
Over the next while, the Noble District incident gradually blew over.
Yet new rumors about Kaelith sprang up: some said the Koshima family offended him and were publicly killed, that Yamamoto dared not intervene. Some claimed Kaelith planned outright rebellion, and that the murder of a noble was just the spark. Yamamoto supposedly failed to act because Kaelith’s side had too many strong subordinates.
They said that later, Yamamoto tricked Kaelith into coming to the First Division and attacked him. Witnesses reported an explosion of flames that day, with Kaelith apparently injured.
However the story was told, it ended up validating the idea that Kaelith broke rules by killing a noble in broad daylight…yet the four major families shielded him, and Yamamoto could do nothing.
A good many nobles who had disliked Kaelith or the Eleventh Division now changed their attitudes.
Aizen was quite satisfied with that outcome.
Kaelith himself hardly cared—these Noble District folks were mostly like NPCs to him. They might buddy up one minute and turn hostile the next. Perfectly normal in his view.
Far more interesting to him was Yamamoto’s “Inner Hadō” lessons.
Because Yamamoto hadn’t used Inner Hadō in a thousand years, it felt awkward for him to deploy in real action. That was no problem against typical foes, but Kaelith was different—his rate of growth soared day by day. During their training, Yamamoto’s Inner Hadō often left him open to counters from Kaelith, who promptly hammered him. A few times, Kaelith even dealt him real injuries.
It left Yamamoto feeling “like he’d seen a Komamura.”
He’d never grown this fast in his younger years. But though it irked him, more than anything he was glad. Only a warrior so formidable could lead the final charge if he himself was gone.
Someday, if Yamamoto truly died, administrative tasks for the Thirteen Court Guards could go to Shunsui, front-line duties to Kaelith, and negotiations or “maintenance” tasks to Jūshirō. A perfect distribution.
He really was a successful teacher.
…
“Boss, these are all my years of research logs,” Szayelaporro said, placing a small suitcase on Kaelith’s desk. “No telling when we’ll meet again. If luck runs out, maybe never. Take care.”
Kaelith watched him in surprise.
“You…reached the end of your lifespan?”
“…Not exactly, but close enough.” Szayelaporro tapped his forehead. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
“Surely you recall my main research goal?”
“How to become more…twisted?”
“…stop joking.”
Szayel forced a smile.
“You remember, I’m working on that “Immaculate Conception” project—becoming able to lay eggs or conceive at will.”
Kaelith coughed. “Yes, that was your dream.”
Szayel smiled, gratified that this scatterbrained fellow actually recalled such an odd detail.
“All these years of experiments— with your funding and gear, I finally see hope. But to finish it, I must split myself in two.
“Half of me will transform into a purely combative lifeform—no more intelligence or culture, effectively…like Kaelith I guess…ahem, I mean a simpleton.”
Kaelith’s tone chilled: “You want me to physically split you now, you say?”
Szayel laughed nervously. “The other half of me will keep the knowledge of science and reason, adapting a part of my body to achieve Immaculate Conception. Ideally, I’d keep my memories in the second body, but who knows how well it’ll hold?
“If it ends up I no longer remember you, or I become worthless, please at least leave me some minimal resources so I can see it through, I beg you.”
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