Demonic Kitsune

"From now on, you’ll have time to study and learn about your weapon on your own! If you wield something like a sword, it's swordsmanship. For spears, it's spearmanship. Archery is for bows and arrows. For any other unique weapons, our glorious instructors will help you with any unfamiliar questions. They will do their absolute best to acquaint you further."

The Senior Instructor spoke to the little Arrancars in a more lenient tone than usual. He wasn’t acting generously without reason, though.

Clare knew why. He was likely hoping to see how many children would survive in half a year. If the children didn’t learn properly, they’d have a hard time surviving. Even if they did survive, they'd be half-dead. At least, that’s what she thought his creepy motivation was.

All in all, if Clare’s premonition held true, the Senior Instructor was just maintaining his usual elegant mentality, providing him the opportunity to report more details to his superiors.

The other instructors’ eyes, set on the children, shone with a rather frightening look. The children flinched, knowing hard work was next.

Clare, having collected her handout and gripping her scythe, proceeded out of the platform area to a grassland shaded by a beautiful reddish blossom willow tree.

There, she began looking through the handout. In under an hour, she had memorized and understood everything, but she read it one more time to gain more depth.

Since she memorized it in time, she only looked at the book again as a cover for her skills from the prying eyes of the instructors who watched her.

Speaking of memorization, the basics of fighting with a scythe flowed through her mind like tidal waves.

Slashing, stabbing, and unpredictable psychological impacts.

With the basics in her imagination, Clare, smiling faintly, picked up her scythe and started to move. As the warm, harmonious breeze blew, fluttering everything in its path, Clare’s dark red demon-illustrated robes danced in the air.

Her long green hair fluttered as well while her busty nine tails stood on end. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she began to release all the tension pent up in her body as the breeze tickled her skin. At that moment, her entire being was like a precious “Aeon Tree”—a demonic jade tree.

With tension relieved, her feet became light as she delved into her imagination and let it all go wild. Soon, her body moved.

The air trembled as one of the basics of the scythe unfolded. “The Slashing” involved lifting the black scythe, letting it swerve and cut through the air, tearing with sharp yet gentle movements like a curved blade slicing paper. Her tails tensed and curved at the tips, forming a rhythm with her.

These sharp movements sliced falling scarlet leaves into pieces. Instantly, she began the next basics.

“The Stabbing” required Clare’s grip to tighten and change momentum. Wrapping the scythe like a conch shell, she stabbed from the top, blasting it down with ferocity.

A single, insignificant scarlet leaf, lost in the waves of billowing fallen leaves, stood on the blade of her scythe. It wasn’t stabbed or slashed but moved with the scythe.

Just like loneliness became solitude and singularity became multitude, Clare performed what she had just memorized from the handout. More pink leaves began to gather on the scythe's blade, rolling around the curved tip without being stabbed.

Every step was graceful, and her feet synced with her intent. Every move Clare made was with unwavering confidence and precision as if she had wielded a scythe before. She visualized wielding a sword, filtered out flaws and unnecessary movements, and converted it into a suitable style for the scythe.

It was a splendid act that only someone with overwhelming concentration and imagination could pull off. It was beautiful as she did it.

Like dancing to a coordinated opera performance on a grand stage under the crescent moonlight, her muscles, heartbeat, breathing, and blood flow followed a similar rhythm. It became more evident as she made unpredictable, unwavering “psychological impacts” on a falling leaf, making forty-five unpredictable impacts that stirred the air, turning the leaves to dust.

These were just the three most basic movements of wielding a scythe. However, it differed from the handout. She combined the sword skills she learned in her previous life—parrying, blocking, twirling, and other fundamentals—enough to create an infinite unique series within the “Wind Fiery.” There were “Forty” moves within “Chaotic Windfiery of Hellscythe” in the handout, but creating a unique and infinite version added “Ten” extra moves. Overall, there were “Fifty” moves.

Scythe-manship was regarded as the most complex, yet the most revered and enlightened weapon of choice.

The wind blew, and her fluffy ears and tails tingled as the grass shook where her feet moved. The scythe in Clare’s hands moved with elegance, accuracy, and roaring violence. Performing all of this in a quiet and majestic part of the platform beneath the reddish blossom willow tree, Clare succumbed to inner peace.

At least for a brief moment, before a chill tension tickled her ears. Her tails stiffened to this familiar sensation she had noticed before. She was being monitored, albeit extremely discreetly.

Sighing briefly and letting go of the tension, as if she was used to it, she might as well put on a good show for those owl-like eyes. So, she kept on.

Unbeknownst to her, three sets of eyes were secretly watching her every move, each with a different expression. It was none other than the Senior Instructor, Noir, and lastly, SOATH.

— — — — —

SOATH had been constantly looking for a chance at revenge on GIMEL ever since her humiliating defeat.

Having lived in this world of opportunities with two lives, and being betrayed and murdered by her best friend and companion, GIMEL knew very well what those people looked like. Those with violent tendencies and little thought usually died young.

Those who plot in the dark take their chances cautiously and only act when necessary. SOATH, on the other hand, wasn’t the brightest child at the institute. She didn’t hesitate to fight with other children or start unnecessary arguments.

She rarely lost to the other children. She was quite large compared to others her age and had been trying her hardest to prepare for dealing with GIMEL. Of course, her talent was always higher than the other little Arrancars. But SOATH couldn’t bring herself to challenge GIMEL just yet, as that bloody day was still vivid in her mind.

‘How am I meant to fight that monstrosity?’ she thought, unable to come up with any strategy that would allow her to defeat GIMEL as a recent collective attack by some of the other little Arrancars failed horribly.

Attempting to employ numbers against GIMEL proved futile. GIMEL had distinguished herself from the other children when she smashed the group strike they attempted. What worried SOATH even more was seeing GIMEL wielding the dark scythe in the corner of the platform as she enjoyed the cool mountain breeze.

It had only been two hours since GIMEL received the handout on Basic Scythe-manship, and there was no way to read all the complicated content in under two hours. Yet, GIMEL was shattering all sorts of common sense in SOATH’s head. The way she wielded the scythe was skilled.

Far too skilled.

SOATH sighed deeply and gritted her teeth in rage. ‘Fuck this Nin bitch,’ she thought, never forgetting the shame of being thrashed and humiliated by a Half-breed Nin. Her broken arm, neck, bleeding head, and the private pain from peeing too much still ached. Her body shivered with rage as she imagined grasping both GIMEL’s tails, hair, and horns and ripping them apart. Whenever she remembered that day, she was still in pain, having nightmares and despair for weeks after, even though the “Demonic Healer” claimed there was nothing wrong with her body.

She was going to exact her vengeance no matter what. She only had to play it safe and keep her ambition and rage hidden until the time was right. Soon, like stormy weather passing away, leaving only tranquil seas, SOATH’s calm expression returned as she let out a deep breath. Only idiots would express their rage and pick a fight when they were clearly outmatched. The creepy and frighteningly talented one called GIMEL was within SOATH’s eyes.

She just needed to pluck it out.

Secretly gritting her teeth so hard that even a demonic beast would have thought twice, for the first time in its life.

* * *

“I guess the Half-breed GIMEL has changed.”

Mei Tai nodded, elegantly sipping her lukewarm tea as she listened to Edgar Le Nigel, the Senior Instructor in Charge of the Yulin Platform, give his report. It was evident that something had changed. This half-breed child, previously judged untalented by Mei Tai, was now showing visible signs of improvement. Surprisingly, this half-breed Nin was displaying talent comparable to a full-breed Arrancar.

“She shouldn’t have too much trouble passing the Valkyrie-Blitz in half a year,” Edgar continued.

Mei Tai nodded. The Valkyrie-Blitz of Poseidon Trials was the first gate of trials, symbolizing the Institute of Arrancars. This event was so dangerous that almost half of the little Arrancars would die from the starting trial alone, which was incomparable to the past tests they had faced.

Surviving the fearsome Valkyrie-Blitz meant being officially recognized as a “First-Chain Arrancar Pawn” within the Demon Clan. An “Arrancar Pawn” was the lowest of ranks within the Demon Clan, followed by “Arrancar Viking,” “Arrancar Knight and General,” and “Grand Rook,” which was ranked just below the “Twelve Arrancar Grandmasters” and the “Demoness” herself. The “Twelve Arrancar Grandmasters” were rarely seen in public and directly served under the Demoness. However, an “Arrancar Pawn” was by no means an easy rank to achieve.

Fewer than twenty-five thousand of the two hundred and fifty thousand members who made up the entire population of the Clan were able to become recognized as Arrancar. The Institute of Arrancars was special because little Arrancars under the age of twelve to fifteen could become ranked.

Reaching that level of weapon-manship and battle prowess in Salamander was very difficult. However, what was even more challenging was that the Institute of Arrancars wasn’t running this program just to create an “Arrancar Pawn.” Obtaining that position required the bare minimum of talent.

The Institute of Arrancars aimed to produce “Arrancar Vikings.” Only five thousand members of the Clan were strong enough to be called “Arrancar Vikings.” This institute was more special than the previous generations.

‘We need to create a couple of Arrancar Knights. It would be much better if we could create a Grand Rook,’ Mei Tai thought. However, she realized that expecting to raise an “Arrancar Grand Rook” was unrealistic. She sighed, placing her palm on her forehead, and chuckled lightly. It was quite comical. She herself was barely ranked among the three hundred Arrancar Grand Rooks in the Clan. Even if only one or two were able to reach “Arrancar Knight” levels, it would be regarded as a huge success.

“How’s the preparation going for the Valkyrie-Blitz?” she asked calmly.

She was supposed to ask her assistant this question, but he was away at another Platform to supervise their preparations for the Valkyrie-Blitz and wouldn’t be back for a while. It seemed that her assistant had already relayed the preparations of the Valkyrie-Blitz to the Yulin Platform as well.

“According to the Assistant Dean, we sent out some of our own to subdue and train some high-rank demonic beasts in extreme and deadly conditions and install them alongside deadly traps within the trial. They will not be low-ranking, pathetic demonic beasts but supreme, instinctual ones by the time the Poseidon trial begins,” Edgar reported firmly.

Mei Tai nodded pleasantly. She gracefully grasped and sipped her tea.

“I see. Then give those who pass the Poseidon trial the three “Demon Cores of Dead Triton” and unlock the “Demonic Treasure Vault”. After all, those are the prizes the Demoness herself personally authorized,” she added dismissively.

The Senior Instructor, Edgar Le Nigel, shouted with his head down in response to Mei Tai, the Dean of the Institute of Arrancar’s orders. “Yes, Ma’am!”

“You may leave now.”

The Senior Instructor nodded and walked away.

Mei Tai sighed, contemplating how difficult her job as the Dean was. She turned her chair to the open-sided window that exhibited the entire lovely panorama of the Institute as the breeze fluttered about.

“What a dreadful job; it’s not at all elegant. Yet, Half-breed Nin—GIMEL. Can I make you into an Arrancar Knight?” She sighed lightly. “I’ll wait and see.”

Feeling more addicted to her tea, she subconsciously stretched her right hand to pick up her cup and sipped it.

* * * 

Half a year had passed within the Institute of Arrancars. During this time, the young Arrancars had grown accustomed to their weapons. They had mastered the fundamentals, and the weight of the iron bracers on their arms and legs no longer increased. As a result, they moved much more freely, even with 65kg braces on all four limbs.

In other words, they carried 16.25kg on each limb yet moved as if they weren't wearing the bracers at all. The same was true for Clare, who had achieved something more significant.

‘I have finally perfected the Superiorization of True Deviation technique.’

Previously, she had fused the "Demonic Energy Manifestation Technique" with the "Unification and Amplification of Holy Mana." But only now were the two in sync. Finally, both demonic energy and Holy Mana had become one.

However, it was still difficult for Clare. Creating her own technique for both Holy Mana and demonic energy was no easy task. Completing a high-level technique was something only the greatest legends in Salamander had achieved, like a Demi-god or a Transcendent close to a Saint or… 

… a Demonic Saintess.

‘No way,’ Clare shook her head, denying the notion. But her foxy and demonic side sighed, jeering at her denial. Still, this was proof that Clare was making strides toward her revenge.

The most interesting aspect of this technique was a special form of energy Clare could now use. The Shield of Petrification, which she had used to mask her levels and holy power, could now be materialized outside her body alongside her demonic and foxy instincts and senses.

‘Is this the complete version that Wenceslas created?’ Clare was certain this was the development Wenceslas sought when she found the half-finished technique in the ruined lab. She had evolved the technique using her unique enlightenment as a half-breed between a demon and a Nine-tailed Fox Nin. She cursed inwardly toward the leading Archbishop. Creating something new from experimental notes was a great help from her mother.

‘Mother, thanks for the knowledge!’

As she slammed her palms together in appreciation, she once again felt her mother's warm embrace. Her face filled with happiness, if only for a brief moment. A rueful sensation arose as an odd announcement tickled her ears, and her expression turned indifferent.

The Senior Instructor stood on the grand stage in front of the young Arrancars on the Yulin Platform. Donned in purplish-dark robes with skull embellishments, he slowly opened his mouth. The air trembled with demonic energy.

“Half of you will die today.”

His eerie statement sent shivers down every child's spine. They wondered what he had planned.

However, the words that came out of their mouths were quite different from what they felt in their hearts. They had anticipated this day since they began their year at the Institute of Arrancars.

“Huh? For real, I will pass the trial."

"What in the world is going to happen now?"

"Has the day finally arrived?"

"I'm prepared!"

All the confident children murmured to themselves.

Clare’s demonic and foxy side expected this, smiling one-sidedly at their potential deaths. Her side as the Heavenly Saintess finally understood why all demons were such extreme masochists, worse than Necromancers, Soulmancers, and Archliches…