Demonic Kitsune

Darkness.

There is nothing but blackness, like divine ink. An empty abyss, devoid of both life and death. A roaring chasm, a distorted realm once filled with rotting flesh and gore.

Here, millions of saints, saintesses, archbishops of the holy church, knights, adventurers from the Great Families, Continental Clans, Ten Guilds, slayers, a few Outer Gods, and Forces of Monsters were turned into grotesque, mutilated, putrid flesh. Their original forms were obliterated by a single entity: a woman with curved horns and an elegant demeanor. She stood at the pinnacle of power and might, known as the Greatest Catastrophe.

The Demoness. The one who shouldn’t have been born. An Overwhelming Cataclysm.

This place was named after the ‘Demon God’ - Poseidon Valkyrie-Blitz: Worse than Death, Despair that pervaded the skies, Gloom that trembled the earth, and Terror that plagued all who sought it.

Soon, it was remodeled into the ‘Poseidon Trial’ to test the little Arrancars for the Institute. It was their desperate desire to struggle, live, and survive. A place called “Blitz,” crammed with dense, saturated demonic energy that the weak couldn’t survive a single step.

A weak demon has no place in Hell, let alone in the paradise designed by the Demoness or the utopia created by the Demon God.

— — — — — 

A few meters from the Institute of Arrancars, eight feet deep within the chilly ground, lay a passage. The temperature was oddly different from the Gate of Hell due to the density of both Death energy and Demonic energy seeping out from Valkyrie-Blitz.

These two eerily cold energies were unique to the lower depths of this old, scuffed passage. At its entrance stood a long, rigid titanium stone with phrases engraved in a language only demons understood.

Illuminating the entire passageway was difficult, even with two sources of fluorescent, fist-sized beads. Clare could barely see through the darkness, but she noticed the two massive, seamless platinum gates standing at opposite ends of the dark, bricked passageway.

As Clare took a few graceful steps towards the distant gates, she could finally piece together the words written on a large rock near the entrance. She paused, swallowing dryly, and then repeated the name.

“The Trial Gate of Poseidon; Valkyrie-Blitz.”

The names were carved by different weapons and painted with blood. The sight was gruesome, with rusty, ancient weapons barely visible. Despite coating her retinas with holy mana, she could still barely make out the scene. What had transpired here for Death energy and Demonic energy to be so dense? Cold sweat trickled down her cheek to her delicate neck.

Her tail tensed up in alarm, whispering that this place was hideous, far too hideous. Clare could relate. This was a place where one could live only by surviving the trial of crossing the gate. Failing meant dying a pathetic death, leaving a corpse devoid of flesh or bones.

The Senior Instructor's words echoed in her head as she recalled the name of the gate.

“When you enter the gate of Valkyrie-Blitz, you will face a crisis that will put you in a life-or-death situation. It’s not simply a crisis you can survive, even though you have been training hard. Struggle with your dark heart and demonic might. If you fail, you will die knowing the agonizing pain of being devoured alive and swallowed by the abyss.”

“You will be stronger if you consolidate your mentality as a future Demonic Fighter and your temperament as a young demon adult. You’ll achieve greater heights as a result of this opportunity!”

“Keep in mind, you little Arrancars, the Demon Clan's only mission in life is strength, absolute power, nothing more, nothing less. There is no need for those who are weak or can’t endure to grow and live. Stay strong for the Clan, not only in your young body but also in your dark heart. If you do, this Demon Clan will give you a place to change your fate or the power to believe in it and lay your life for its honor…”

Senior Instructor Edgar Le Nigel's lengthy speech had been elegant and long-winded. Regardless, every word was useful and hinted at something important.

The agonizing pain of being devoured alive, limb by limb, and swallowed by the void worse than death. The cataclysm that plagued the soul. Clare noticed the hidden hints in the phrases engraved on the titanium stone in the language of the Valkyrie-Blitz trial.

To her demon side, it sounded like it had something to do with trained beasts. To her cautious foxy side, it seemed to involve deadly traps. Her heavenly saintess side felt an abiding chill up her spine.

The mentality expected from the little Arrancars was not only to take pleasure in murder but to be confident in doing so if necessary. The Demon Clan required demons who wouldn’t hesitate or feel any emotion, akin to robots or emotionless hitmen. For Clare, it wasn’t a problem. She grabbed the grip of the well-wrapped scythe in her hands.

This time, it wasn’t the baton she used to showcase her skills during their daily routine of Ascending and Descending the Gate of Hell. It was a well-carved alloy steel dark scythe, much more durable, a real weapon. Clare smiled pleasantly at the cold grip in her delicate grasp. It felt nostalgic to hold a real weapon that would soon be dyed with blood.

Clare slowly started to awaken both her demonic energy and holy mana, highlighting and strengthening her senses. Her ears twitched, and her instincts arose as her senses expanded beyond ‘five meters’ and stretched throughout the well-arranged bricked passage. It was a testament to how much her senses and instincts, acquired from her foxy and demon sides, had grown.

Her heightened instinct sent goosebumps throughout her body as her tail remained tensed in alarm. It was a familiar sensation, as though something ominous was within her sensory range. Based on the movement she sensed, it was a two-legged, tall beast moving steadily through the passage. And…

“KRGGHHH!” 

With a deafening roar that grew louder, the beast emerged from the darkness into Clare’s dimly lit field of vision. She kept a careful eye on it, focusing on its menacing crimson eyes and sharpening her eyesight with Holy mana.

Her premonition was correct: it wasn’t just any creature but a black bull with long, curved horns. It resembled a red orc with a bull’s head and constantly emitted demonic energy. Clare blinked rapidly, her tails twitching nervously.

Its nature was clear now. This was a demonic beast, like those from the ‘Demonic Plagued Rainforest.’ It was smaller than a typical green orc but not as tall as a red high-orc, and its movements were different from any orc she had seen.

Its strong skin and muscular arms could destroy tree trunks. Clare was fortunate it was only a single demonic beast. Unlike normal beasts, demonic beasts were ten times more destructive if there were more. One was already daunting enough.

Clare had fought them before as a Heavenly Saintess. Now, she was a thirteen-year-old half-breed Nin. However, this didn’t make the demonic beast any less dangerous. No wonder the little Arrancars were given weapons and thorough training. They couldn't pierce its strong skin with just any weapon.

Unwrapping her scythe, Clare coated it with a thin layer of both demonic and holy mana. Instead of fusing, the energies coated the scythe’s curved blade like oil and water. The Demonic Bull, sensing Clare’s intention, roared loudly and charged toward her, looking for an opening.

The bull’s hefty feet resonated through the passage. It watched Clare’s movements—her hips, arms, thighs, and stiffened tails—with its burning crimson eyes.

Something seemed wrong. The bull was displaying unusual behavior. Most people, or even other non-elite Arrancars without strong demonic senses, wouldn’t notice, but Clare’s instincts were tingling.

Her prior experience had taught her to notice something odd. This demonic beast was different from the ones she had faced before in labyrinths, ruins, and the Demonic Plagued Rainforest. It appeared to have fought an Arrancar recently. If Clare was correct, the beast had learned to take the initiative, sensing her demonic energy and intentions.

‘Was this what the instructor meant when he mentioned that the trial’s survival rate was barely 10%?’

As Clare watched the bull approach at breakneck speed, she became more convinced it had been trained to fight high-level Arrancar. Despite its heavy movements, it never made unnecessary motions and thought with its petty brain. It was a Pseudo-Second Chain Demonic Beast.

“Come to think of it…”

Most of the instructors had been missing these last few months. She had overheard a few instructors in the Dining Hall discussing their training behind closed doors. Now, Clare could tell it was specifically for this challenge.

It made sense that the demonic bull had adapted to the techniques of the Arrancars it fought. Several near-death experiences and battles had made this trial far from easy.

But there was nothing Clare couldn’t accomplish if she set her mind to it. Since no one was watching the trials individually, she could now use all her abilities in earnest. They had been instructed to meet at the end of the passage, past the trial gate. If they didn’t, they were presumed dead.

Suddenly, a fearsome mixture of demonic and holy mana emanated from Clare’s body. It was something that frightened any being, regardless of origin, if they were weaker. The harmonious current of both energies started to coat her body, distorting the atmosphere. This was the first time she was using it in battle since developing it into a full-fledged technique.

Shield of Petrification; mana of fossilization.

The black scythe in Clare’s hands began to resonate powerfully, as though in unity with her energies, after being coated in another layer of the terrifying consolidation energies.

“I’m going to end you, demonic beast, as I have always done.”

Her heart raced, and her blood pulsed. She gripped her scythe tightly, raising its curved blade in the air and pressing her feet firmly against the ground.

Her feet parted as she leaped toward the loudly roaring bull. Her eyes glowed with a vivid autumn emerald hue, akin to a grim reaper’s.

* * * 

“All of the little Arrancar must have either perished or arrived at the Erebus Hell grass field by now,” Mei Tai said. 

The Erebus Hell grass field was a red grass field where those who had completed their Valkyrie-Blitz trial could recuperate and refresh. As a result, the trials at Erebus Hell grass field were divided into two groups.

Senior Instructor Edgar Le Nigel nodded in response.

“Yes, Ma. I’m sure they’ve already met their good adversaries.”

The Senior Instructor took this as permission to continue and began his report.

“As you mentioned, the top twenty little Arrancars who outperformed the rest have been matched with Demonic Bull Lords rather than the Standard Demonic Bulls.”

In simpler terms, Demonic Bull Lords were significantly stronger and better trained than ordinary Bulls. They reacted quickly to human actions and energy. To kill a Demonic Bull, one must approach quietly and strike with a powerful force from the start because they learn to adapt to their opponent’s attacks rapidly and grow stronger due to their endless stamina.

“Will the other little Arrancars survive?” Mei Tai asked, briefly thinking about savoring a new kind of tea she pre-ordered.

Edgar let out a deep breath before replying, “Little Arrancars who are direct Clan members’ descendants or semi-descendants with some battle prowess before getting here—considered semi-elites—are probably likely to survive.”

“That means more than half of them are bound to perish,” Mei Tai, the Dean of the Institute of Arrancars, predicted. It was no different for the little Arrancars partnered with Bull Lords, who were more adaptive than Demonic Bulls.

“However, if they survive, they’ll be more than just regular Clan members,” Edgar added.

It was a risky bet with a high payoff. Only the strongest would survive and reap the blessings of the deceased; they would endure the agony of killing for the first time and overcome the despair of facing death. Those who couldn’t keep up, endure, or overcome would just become necessary sacrifices since they couldn’t be of help to the Clan.

This trial instilled a new mindset in the little demons who were previously soft-hearted. It was either kill and devour or be killed and devoured. The little Arrancars that survived were likely to become strong Clan members or become outcasts with no place in the Clan. Mei Tai doubted the latter since the little Arrancars were realistically and rationally filtered out from the beginning of the Institute course.

In other words, the future of the Clan was looking better and better, making Mei Tai smile.

“CHETH, SETH, and DALETH would pass easily…” Mei Tai’s words trailed off as she deepened in thought.

Among the semi-elites, those who were learning techniques before coming here would pass. That was a fact. But some little Arrancars couldn’t keep up. Most of these little Arrancars stood out initially due to their talent but got lazy and complacent with their training. Then, a particular variable came to Mei Tai’s mind: the Half-breed Kitsune, GIMEL. Despite being at the bottom of all criteria, this rare Nin outcast demonstrated remarkable feats that even CHETH couldn’t match.

“…Perhaps GIMEL as well,” she added.

“Maybe. If it were her, it would be doable to pass the trial,” Edgar remarked, unsure. He had received many reports from other Instructors who kept a watch on her at all times. But that would have been the case if she had been in a regular trial.

GIMEL was placed in the same passage as the twenty most elite little Arrancars. Even when compared to previous generations, the least talented and most pathetic—AIN and GIMEL of that time, were not in the top twenty elites. Nevertheless, the Dean of the Institute looked forward to her survival.

“I’m looking forward to it, Half-Breed GIMEL,” Mei Tai said, letting out a sigh as she ruffled her hair back.

Would she easily pass the trial without a struggle? Or struggle to near death to pass? Or would she fail and succumb to death?

For some reason, Mei Tai believed that GIMEL, the cunning demonic kitsune, would pass. She wasn’t sure why she was so confident in this unusual Half-breed. But, in any case, she merely wanted to see the results as quickly as possible.

At that moment, the hooves of horses echoed on the tiled pavement outside. It was a bright sunny day with warm, reddish sunlight shining on white, majestic demonic horses adorned with long, spiraled horns that curved menacingly from their foreheads. Their crimson eyes glowed with otherworldly fire, casting an unsettling yet energetic light.

The horses were hitched to exquisitely crafted carriages, each a masterwork of dark artistry. The carriages were intricately carved with symbols of the Ancient Demonic Tea Transportation agency, shimmering brightly under the sunlight. Each detail was precise, from the sharp, angular patterns that seemed to shift and writhe as if alive, to the heavy, ornate chains that adorned the sides.

At the reins of this sinister transport was the towering demon driver, his presence formidable. His skin was a deep, ashen gray, and he wore a dark, tailored uniform. He held the reins with a practiced grip, guiding the procession with authority and control to deliver the ordered goods at all costs. 

As the carriages rolled smoothly, they entered the institute's steel-painted back gate, moving over the tiled pavement toward the main building.

"Huh?" Mei Tai and Edgar's sharp ears twitched as they heard the pounding of the demonic horse's hooves hitting the ground in quick succession.

"It appears that a merchant carriage has arrived, Ma. Did you order anything?"

Ignoring Edgar’s question, Mei Tai hurried to the cathedral-like window, her chest bouncing with excitement. Confusion marked the Senior Instructor’s face, but she quickly grinned with glee. "At long last, hahaha! My 'Olifer Coffee Tea' has arrived."

Mei Tai hadn’t sipped coffee tea in a while due to a lack of coffee tea powder. She ordered it two weeks ago and had been eagerly waiting for its arrival. The only thing that pleased Mei Tai as much as the Clan’s bright future was her favorite special edition tea, ‘Olifer Coffee Tea,’ a limited creation by the ‘Best Demonic Alchemist Bashai Zen’. She turned to face her seat, ready to sit back with an air of relief.

"Ma?" Edgar Le Nigel repeated. "Ma?" He was quite stunned to see Mei Tai, the Dean of the Institute and the cold-blooded, calculated Arrancar Grand Rook in the Clan, excited about something other than Clan affairs. It was so ironic that it brought a faint, perplexed smile to his face.

Mei Tai noticed Edgar’s faint smile. "What? What’s so funny?" she asked, puzzled.

"Nothing, Ma," Edgar said, scratching the side of his cheek. He grinned internally, glad that the Dean hadn’t lost touch with her emotions even after becoming one of the three hundred Arrancar Grand Rooks. His internal grin soon disappeared as he deepened in thought. 

Having witnessed one thousand Arrancars dying in the bloody battle of the ‘Holy Grail War,’ which had just ended in the Salamander Continent after ten years of conflict between the Heavens, the Holy Church, Great Families, Continental Clans, Ten Guilds, using the Monsters Race. After being promoted, Mei Tai was ordered to lead the Institute to produce the future of the Demon Clan by the Demoness.

Edgar gritted his teeth in rage at how many honorable demons had died. But after calming down with a deep breath, he smiled inwardly again, glad that Dean Mei Tai hadn’t lost her emotion.

His thoughts were interrupted by Mei Tai’s next words. "Go tell Anka to prepare the ‘Olifer Tea’ that just arrived," she commanded.

"Y-yes, Ma," he stuttered, dropping the reports and exiting the door. 

"Anya!" he shouted after the door shut. His voice was drowned out as he walked toward Anya, the elegant-looking maid Mei Tai had ordered him to...

Mei Tai mumbled to herself rhythmically, "Olifer Tea, oh-oh-oh Olifer Tea, I-I lo-ov-ee Olifier Cofeee t-teeaaa. Hum. Hum. Hum.” Even her mind seemed to sing as she waited for her tea.