Demonic Kitsune

“This is unexpectedly beyond common sense.”

Listening to the screams of her minions from afar, SOATH’s eyes widened. Despite her reaction, she didn’t feel sadness or worry, but rather a nauseating feeling. She instinctively knew the screams were only from her minions; not a single sound resembled GIMEL.

It was hard for her to tell. Was GIMEL wearing her bracers or not? If she was, then SOATH’s hypothesis was wrong; GIMEL couldn’t handle that many attackers despite surpassing her initial strength from four years ago.

However, if she wasn’t... SOATH’s face stiffened. Then this was indeed unexpectedly beyond common sense. As these thoughts consumed her, she wondered how GIMEL had grown over the years.

In other words, if SOATH took off her bracers, would she be able to take on six of her minions? She couldn’t be certain. Of course, she could critically injure them, but given her minions' fighting prowess, she couldn’t guarantee a victory.

At the end of her thoughts, SOATH sighed and picked up her weapon. It was a war hammer with a handle length of around 3 to 3.5 feet (90 to 105 cm) and a head approximately 1 foot (30 cm) long and 6 inches (15 cm) wide, wrapped in black cloth. Despite its weight of 10 to 15 pounds (4.5 to 7 kg), she held it firmly on her shoulder.

She couldn’t go for it yet. Right, SOATH hated to admire it again after all these years, but the difference between them had hardly narrowed. GIMEL was leagues above her right now, and it was futile to try and strike. SOATH’s eyes sank naturally as GIMEL, as though sensing her, emerged from the distance, stepping onto the platform and walking down. SOATH panicked inwardly and tried not to show it, taking a deep breath as the chilling breeze blew.

As the steps echoed through the silent night, SOATH wondered if her anxiety had been revealed to GIMEL as the half-breed Nin approached slowly, scythe in hand, brimming with both intent and coldness.

No, SOATH wasn’t an idiot. She had grown a bit smarter over the years. She probably knew that GIMEL had realized the young Arrancars that had just attacked her were SOATH’s lackeys and that the ringleader who orchestrated this act was nearby.

‘Damn it,’ 

SOATH cursed under her breath. But she soon had a thought as she gripped her war hammer’s handle. What if GIMEL had been at least a little injured? She could see a few sharp marks of blood on GIMEL’s robes and face. Perhaps, just maybe, she had even a speck of injuries scattered around her body.

But it didn’t matter. At least that was what she thought. Whether or not GIMEL was injured didn’t matter. The way she kept walking toward her, her body language, heartbeats, breathing, and overall atmosphere showed she didn’t feel any pain if she had any injuries.

So, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the bait was set, and GIMEL had bitten the hook. The pole had automatically dragged the prey to her. It was now time for her plan to conclude. In simpler terms, since the baits she prepared had taken a toll on GIMEL even with her bracers on, SOATH estimated that GIMEL should be only at half-strength with her Demonic Energy while trying to mask her face with indifference.

That should be it. What else could be the right conclusion? Without further ado, it was about time. SOATH just had to wrap many years of scheming all up neatly. Contrary to her conclusion, SOATH’s demonic instincts were tingling, buzzing with alerts as she stared into the eyes of the monster getting closer.

An empty gaze that pierced through the twilight. An emotionless expression that conveyed solitariness, apathy, ineffectuality, and misery yet having a goal that must be achieved at all costs. A sense of indescribable coercion rang through SOATH’s mind.

It was as if GIMEL was staring at a mere ant she had no choice but to vanquish. Clicking her tongue in disgust, SOATH recalled how GIMEL, since that day of humiliation, never looked at her with any worthwhile eyes. It was more like looking down on her, her hard work, her group, or any decision she made no matter what she did. Her fist clenched secretly. That hint of pity in GIMEL’s eyes stirred bitterness in SOATH’s heart. But she mustn't show it, or her careful plan would be ruined.

Anxiously, SOATH slowly took off her iron bracers stealthily. A loud, heavy thud resonated through the silence as they fell. Removing them, she felt a surge of energy throughout her body as every inch of her became lighter than a feather.

Finally, SOATH was already looking forward to seeing how she would fare. Unlike when the bracers were connected to the spiked balls and she fought against GIMEL in the Gate of Hell, it could be presumed that SOATH wasn’t accustomed to them. Of course, she never knew exactly when she had gotten accustomed to them after that day, but right now, it felt as if the air itself had become her arms and legs.

She felt confident, though a bit of unease stirred in her heart. If things went awry against this impending monster, she could at least escape safely.

At that moment, however, GIMEL stepped within range of SOATH. She spoke with an innocent smile.

“What brings GIMEL over to me? Could it be that you want to watch the stars with me?”

With a sweet mouth and a cunning mind like a fox, SOATH feigned ignorance to see if she could catch GIMEL off guard. But GIMEL, who stepped in front of her with a mask of indifference, sighed at her pitiful jokes.

“I’m pretty sure I warned you very well last time to repent and be strong. That was your last warning. But you bit the hand that spared you.”

At GIMEL's cold words that ignored her jokes, SOATH bitterly shrugged her shoulders, remembering the words GIMEL had left behind that day.

‘How can I forget that damned day?’

With a moment of contemplation, SOATH forced herself to hide her anxiety. At least that was what she wanted to do, but the bitterness stirring in her heart was already burning to the surface.

Unable to hold the mask of indifference, she shouted, “What the fuck did I do, you bitch?”

Arrogant as well, to the core, but GIMEL didn’t care. She responded coldly with a question, “Do you think I came here without knowing all your plans from the start?”

As if GIMEL’s demon side took over for a brief second, she grinned, revealing her sharp fangs. Yet, her empty, dense emerald eyes, the color sentiment of a god, were totally indifferent to SOATH, creating a uniquely boring yet unexpectedly comical atmosphere.

Was it a hallucination? Or just falsehood? SOATH’s eyes widened a bit in shock and worry, replaying GIMEL’s words in her mind. Did she know all along? She was doubtful. No! However, GIMEL’s empty eyes seemed to gleam with emerald ferocity and superiority that implied, whether you are doubtful or not, you were merely playing in the palm of my hand all along.

 ‘Damn it. Daammmn it!’ 

SOATH cursed repeatedly. It was the worst outcome possible. GIMEL knew not only who was using her minions as bait to lure her in but had been indirectly plotting all the attacks that came to GIMEL from all directions.

As she moved her eyes shakily, still in denial and unable to comprehend the reality, SOATH looked at the dark alloy-steel scythe in GIMEL’s hand. Could she do it? Would she be able to overcome her fears, worries, and denial embedded in her head by GIMEL’s battle prowess and extremely intelligent mind?

There were traces of blood on the edges of the scythe. It was the blood of her six minions that had gone earlier. SOATH, who didn’t feel her will shake just yet, had it broken and shattered to pieces as she saw the traces of blood on the scythe. She felt the looming presence of death emanating from GIMEL. She shouldn’t have thrown those baits. 

No, SOATH shook her head in contradiction. No, rather than dwelling on what could have been, SOATH intended to focus on surviving. In fact, she let out a deep breath to at least evade and ward off GIMEL's attacks first.

As if the cold wind was on her side, it fluttered and billowed all the fallen, shattered leaves and petals on the platform into the air. SOATH took this chance to jump back and unwrapped her hefty war hammer. 

With the enormous amount of fluttering petals and leaves swirling in the air, she swung her powerful war hammer downward from the air. A huge boom resonated as the war hammer lanced through all the disturbances at a breakneck speed.

If anyone saw the impact the weapon was about to cause if it collided with any surface, especially the physique of a demon, they would evade immediately.

However, instead of GIMEL moving her legs, her eyes and her scythe moved simultaneously.

A chilling explosion with a hint of metal-to-metal sound resonated as both weapons collided, shifting the trajectory to the left. Despite GIMEL’s fluidity in stopping the descending war hammer, it exerted a lot of pressure, making her eyes light up. ‘Would you look at that?’ she briefly thought.

GIMEL knew SOATH’s war hammer was heavy and made from reinforced dense metal for powerful impacts, with reinforced wood and metal for durability and handling. Including the additional array of engravings to increase the impact when swung. Even in her past life, she knew a few rare combatants in all of Salamander wielding such weapons. For SOATH to master such a weapon in just a few years impressed GIMEL. She was curious about what drove SOATH to dominate regardless.

“Hmph—!” SOATH let out a deep breath, swinging her war hammer repeatedly in all directions. There was no reason a heavy war hammer had to be slow. SOATH’s hammer moved quickly with the full extent of her strength.

In a certain direction, other young Arrancars, who secretly watched the fight in a daze but dared not come closer, wondered how SOATH could put so much strength into her swings while moving so fast.

Watching SOATH made GIMEL think. She was definitely an elite—a genius. If it weren’t for Clare Ederson, the Heavenly Saintess from her past life who had transmigrated into GIMEL, she wouldn't have had the chance to exchange blows with such an elite as SOATH. GIMEL thought it wasn’t so bad. In fact, the lingering soul of the real GIMEL felt proud right now.

The air vibrated as another series of explosive clashes and metal resonances echoed through the silent night. Amid the impact, SOATH’s Warhammer was deflected with each swing, moving in every direction—upward, downward, left, and right. Her eyes widened from the pain, making her think her hand was about to break.

What is this strength…? SOATH wondered, gritting her teeth. Her hands were numb, making her almost lose her grip on her War Hammer. The War Hammer was heavy, which was why SOATH had chosen it on Weapon Selection Day. With the array of engravings on its metallic head, a single swing could exert pressure on the surroundings. This principle was embedded in SOATH’s weapon techniques. At least, that was the theory. But something was wrong. SOATH was confused.

The air shook, and the clash of metal was followed by an explosive sound. SOATH’s War Hammer was deflected once more. When her weapon clashed with GIMEL’s scythe, it felt as though both her feet were lifted off the ground.

SOATH knew the difference in power was enormous, but now she realized it was beyond anything she had imagined. She couldn’t believe she was being pushed back in terms of strength. Gritting her teeth, she vowed not to let the fight end like this.

Despite the aftershock causing her palm to bleed, SOATH gripped the handle of her weapon tightly and swung again. As if petals were blooming in spring, a blue shimmer began to emanate from the War Hammer. At the same time, immense, mountain-like power was imbued into the weapon, directed towards GIMEL. SOATH grunted in agony from the aftershock but persisted in completing the swing.

Observing the impending swing, GIMEL didn’t deflect it with her scythe. Instead, her body fluidly bent and avoided the attack at the last second, her center of gravity remaining unaffected. The scythe then swerved and cut through the air with sharp yet gentle movements, like a curved blade slicing paper with a surge of might.

SOATH quickly pressed her left foot firmly into the ground and retracted the momentum of the heavy War Hammer, bending backward to avoid the sharp damage left by the scythe. The petals raised by the previous impact were split into two clear parts. Noticing this, SOATH cursed, realizing the extent of GIMEL’s strength was too much for her, even with her bracers still off.

“Damn it! Bitch!” SOATH cursed as she somersaulted to balance her footing and shot forward at GIMEL, swinging her War Hammer sideways with double the initial force. The attack carried a powerful impact, creating a gust of wind.

For a moment, it seemed as though GIMEL’s waist would be struck, but the explosive sound and clash of metal indicated that the scythe moved at the last second, blocking the War Hammer cleanly.

But something was different this time.

GIMEL’s scythe changed its trajectory from below, carving through SOATH’s wrist cleanly as if cutting through butter.

“Huh… Huh?” SOATH’s confusion grew as her body, which was supposed to move instinctively, stopped. She tilted her head down to look at the unbelievable, supernatural result.

The superficial speed was too swift for her to adapt. GIMEL was still wearing her bracers, and most importantly, SOATH could no longer feel her legs.

Blood splattered from SOATH's dismembered limbs, yet no sound escaped as GIMEL pulled back her outstretched scythe, resting it on her shoulder. Blood dripped from its curved blade.

SOATH’s body began to tilt backward. Her lower parts were severed, like a building without its pillars. As she fell, her vision of the starry sky and bright emerald blood blurred. In her final moments of contemplation, she knew she was going to die. 

She shifted her gaze to GIMEL, who loomed over her like the shadow of the grim reaper. GIMEL’s pitiful, empty eyes stared at SOATH's fading soul. They reflected someone who had lost meaning in life after reaching the pinnacle of power and strength.

Everything had been irrelevant to this Half-breed Nin. Hated by demons for her impure blood and now an Arrancar, SOATH smiled wickedly at her unfair life. She did not consider fleeing an act of weakness. Instead, she embraced death, just as the one who looked down on her did. Destroying everything in her path had been a mere whim.

Is this how it feels to be at the pinnacle of power and intelligence? Is this what it means to be an Arrancar?

As remorse and confusion consumed SOATH and her consciousness faded, GIMEL swung the clotted blood from her scythe and spoke.

“Unlike other bullies who made me this way, I acknowledge our fight. I’ll remember you.”

SOATH’s eyes widened in a daze, sensing the sincerity in GIMEL’s voice. She was confused about why GIMEL, of all people, would say that. Was she looking down on her even in death? No, GIMEL, whom she had observed for years, would never indulge in something as silly as that. Her words were sincere. SOATH's fight had not been for naught. Her reputation had changed at least a bit.

“...Thank… you,” SOATH said with a smile and tears, breaking the saying that “A true Arrancar never cries, even in death.” Despite this, to GIMEL, she was a true, talented Arrancar, regardless of her terrible nature and schemes.

Under the picturesque starry sky, lit by the emerald glow of the crescent moon, SOATH's consciousness faded out of existence. It was the last thing she saw, apart from GIMEL’s gaze.

“Tch,” Clare cursed bitterly. “Another talented Arrancar lost.”

It wasn't something to feel proud about; it felt empty. Her bushy tails fluttered slightly, consoling her. The murderous intent from Clare's mana of Fossilization withdrew from the surroundings and disappeared. She glared at SOATH's cold, dismembered body one last time before turning around and leaving, hoping to find peace and live a normal life in Vnland.

****

A little while later, as the night deepened and the moonlight grew even brighter, the frigid breeze intensified. A cacophony of steps echoed on the platform. A figure crept up to the scene of SOATH's corpse, where GIMEL had just been. The moonlight revealed the figure.

It was none other than Noir, SETH.

Her silk, raven-black hair flowed just beyond her lower back, with vibrant golden eyes shimmering in the moonlight. She had a striking nose, and plum cherry-red lips, and wore an exquisite dark platinum robe adorned with patches of knives. Her beauty was striking even in death, with two shiny horns on either side of her forehead, near her temples, adding to her striking appearance. However, something was different about her tonight.

Her gaze darted left and right, scanning the darkness for any hidden disturbances or watchdogs. She unsheathed her broadsword and approached SOATH's corpse.

“Pathetic bitch, trying to hurt my plaything. How dare you smile in death. You disgust me. I hate your guts, so…”

She murmured without realizing it, her voice menacing yet soft and gentle. It was supposed to convey disgust, but it came off as creepy and coquettish, like someone with a self-proclaimed duty to fulfill, even if the target was already dead.

“…Be despaired even in death.” Her words would send chills down the spine of anyone who overheard. Her broadsword gleamed in the moonlight as she raised it high, ready to deliver a single, merciless stroke.

As the broadsword slashed through the air—

Blood splattered like a fountain.

—And SOATH’s rigid smiling lips, flesh, and bones were cut through. Blood splashed on SETH’s face and robes.

In the dim moonlight, fluttering in the wind, a thin yet unfathomably deep smile curled up on SETH’s lips. It was a chilling, mysterious sight that would fill any onlooker, or even the dead, with a powerful sense of unease, confusion, and anxiety. In her heart, she felt a surge of accomplishment for helping her plaything, GIMEL, by ridding her of an annoying ant, even though she was a bit late.

“...I did it. I… protected you, hehehe.”

This was the moment when her pure, innocent obsession with GIMEL evolved into something much deeper.

— — — —

Six days went by like the flow of a free stream of a river. 

Before entering seclusion training, each of the young Arrancars asked the instructors for what they needed. These requests weren’t fantasies but something palpable. The instructors provided the supplies they requested. 

However, "as long as good and bad apples co-exist, undeveloped apples also exist." This, of course, led to some young Arrancars getting disciplined for asking for unreasonable things, the sounds of punishment echoing on the Yulian Platform.

By the end of the sixth day, Clare received the items she had requested from the Senior Instructor: eight alloy-steel braces, each weighing 50 kilograms, measured as accurately as possible, and a new, well-balanced silver scythe. 

Just thinking about Clare’s odd request, the Senior Instructor had given her an additional set of heavier braces in case she got used to the ones she had initially requested.

In her dimly lit room, Clare grasped the hilt of her new weapon and found it oddly heavy yet well-balanced. It seemed the materials used to forge the weapon were not silver but titanium. 

Clare frowned as she moved her now heavier body. If she circulated her Asura energy at all times, she could move as freely as before. Otherwise, the movement was a bit challenging. However, it would be ridiculous to circulate Asura energy constantly, so it was a good challenge to overcome.

In other words, once Clare got used to the new braces and titanium weapons, she would be much stronger. Clare was already among the top elites within the Yulian Platform. Her body’s talents and capacity for holy mana had begun to change per her body due to the “Mithril Soul and Body Reinforcement.” This growth was slow and annoying but gradually improved her physical abilities. 

Her body, though still growing slower than other young female Arrancars, was developing better than before. Together with “Mithril Physique Circulation,” all functions dealing with holy mana followed proper progression. Her physique was as sturdy as Mithril, and her soul abundant with holy power, progressing like "hot water well retained in a reconstructed and sturdy glass mug."

Clare was already gazing beyond the horizon at the results seclusion training would bring in the next few years. She was already far ahead. To make her vision a reality, she needed to master the “Absolute Reaper Compensation: The Six Binds of Grim” and her other techniques, as well as the basics of the scythe. 

She was ready to combine techniques, at least starting with the “Crescent of the Starless Night Sky” and “Six Binds of Grim.” By the end of the seclusion training, she hoped to be nearly finished—about eighty-five or ninety percent done.

Additionally, she might complete her body's holy mana accumulation and body reinforcement techniques with “Mithril Soul and Body Reinforcement” and “Mithril Physique Circulation,” fully cultivating her body's and soul's talents. 

Clare’s fluffy tails swerved subconsciously, showing her confidence. On the day she finished all her training, both her Demon and Foxy sides whispered for her to train in her foxy side energy, “Reishi,” and gain “Enlightenment”

 and “Body Rejuvenation,” while also learning more from the Ancient Text within her mind library.

Clare intended to follow this path, clenching her fist tightly. As a half-breed, she delved more into the blurry memories inherited from the original GIMEL. Using past life experiences and the comprehension of the “Ancient Text,” she learned that every time a combatant advanced within the “Major rank” of the Six Chained Power system, they underwent a certain process if they were unrestrained combatants training in all forms and energies.

Alongside the techniques Clare had been practicing, particularly “Mithril Body and Soul Reinforcement” and “Mithril Physique Circulation,” she concluded that these were not simple techniques. Instead, they were incredible yet flawed techniques meant to make her a perfect holy mana retainer and develop her body to be as sturdy as Mithril. 

She discovered the technique came from an ancient, extinct civilization that acted as a gatekeeper for the ancient text monument—a musty, cracked stone tablet. She realized it was a miraculous technique built to enhance everything about the practitioner. 

To achieve perfect Enlightenment of both mind and body and perfect harmony, she needed to learn another energy completely different from her own: “Reishi.”

Even after mastering “Reishi,” Clare needed to merge all the energies in her body to create something entirely new and shed her body through “Body Rejuvenation.” At least, that's how Clare understood it. Her tails wriggled proudly at her amazing comprehension. The “Mithril Soul and Body Reinforcement” became more mysterious as she practiced it. It was far beyond the scope of humans, Demons, or even Nin.

Reflecting on this, Clare left her room after finishing her preparations and inspecting what she had acquired from the Senior Instructor. 

Forcing herself to stop thinking about the past with a click of her tongue, she hastened her steps out of the Institute and toward the seclusion training site written on a piece of paper. 

Clare knew the place well. Her feet left the ground, leaping through everything in her path toward the destination. 

The breeze brushed across her face.

— — — — — 

The Seclusion Training, according to the coordinates written on the well-folded piece of paper, was in an area created inside a mountain, quite separate from the surrounding peaks where the Institute resides. That’s to say, the only entrance to this isolated area was at the very peak of the mountain and each young Arrancar had to get there regardless of the weather conditions, occasional magma flares, eruptions, and abnormal temperatures.

Since the young Arrancars had overcome and survived the Gate of Hell every day through the narrow magma steps and extreme temperatures for four years straight, they had adapted to the extreme danger and become stronger. It was now easy for them to reach their destination quickly. Still, Clare's ears twitched and her bushy tails shivered, reminding her of the accidents that often occurred in the past.

Clare nimbly entered the small entrance at the very peak of the mountain and began to walk down the steep steps. The area was dimly lit, with phosphorescent beads scattered around, providing dim illumination. Looking around as she climbed down the steps, Clare saw small doors to rooms about 177.916 square feet, lined up side by side.

It was an area secretly conceived, so large it seemed impossible that it could exist within the mountain, resembling a complex of compartments.

The slope was steeper than Clare had expected. The rooms here were different from the ones she had stayed in until now. Those rooms were made with a solitary window and a plain framework, but these were even plainer.

Who would have known they built such a training space inside a mountain? Clare opened one of the doors and peeked inside, moving her head and darting her eyes around. This area was assigned to the young Arrancars from other platforms, purely for seclusion training within the Institute. There were more steep steps and training rooms like this throughout the Institute.

Clare couldn't believe they had artificially built such a large training area within a mountain. Indeed, it was only a part of the several training areas within the mountains surrounding the Institute.

Eventually, Clare arrived at a mysterious passage made of hardbrick tiles. It was already filled with the remaining young Arrancars, at most thirty-eight since SOATH and its group were killed. Without delay, Clare's ears twitched, and her tails curled in anticipation of the familiar tremble in the air.

Contrary to her instinct, a familiar overwhelming presence accompanied by other demonic presences emerged elegantly from a ripple in space in front of all the little Arrancars, signaling the trials were about to begin.

The senior instructor, Edgar Le Nigel, dressed in platinum robes, stepped forward and spoke.

“From now on, you're going to have your Seclusion Training session here for the next four and a half years.”

As soon as the senior instructor aroused a bit of his demonic energy for reasons known to him, the air trembled slightly and exploded with a steady pulse of energy. 

A mid-surge of dark-red demonic energy pressured the atmosphere, booming across the passage and brightening the phosphorescent beads. The beads, now lined up from all sides, made the brick-like interior more visible.

There were bursts of admiration and wonder from the young Arrancars. The space was incredibly large, more so than Clare had thought. It was an illusionary, inverted yet deep, and large space with a colorful array of engravings with talismans scattered about. Almost frightening if one thought of it as a paradise in the underworld.

The rooms wedged into the walls in an orderly manner became more visible. Some were inverted yet hanging strangely. The number of rooms, about thirty-nine, matched the number of young Arrancars in the Yulin Platform who were alive.

“Those are the entrances to your rooms for the Seclusion Training. Inside, there is sufficient space for any kind of training you may need, along with a simple cleaning system and a series of robes in various sizes. Balls of rice, meatballs, and buckets of water will be prepared and sent to your rooms daily. So don’t worry and go inside.”

Just as Clare anticipated, her tails swerved without anyone noticing. As soon as the senior instructor finished speaking, the other demon instructors let the children in one by one. The senior instructor muttered behind them as they entered the dark rooms.

“When you go in, you won’t be able to come out until you finish your training. The entrance will be blocked from the outside with the Array Defensive System. Keep your minds firm, and we, the instructors, wish the best for all of you to survive and become full Arrancars.”

The small murmur transmitted clearly to Clare and the other young Arrancars, and soon the door to the entrance closed with a heavy echo.

Inside this space, obstructed by the solid platinum stone door that had been closed and locked tightly by the Array Defensive System, Clare was detached from the outside world—

She had to become stronger in this place.

—It was incredibly dark, and it was hard to see, even for Clare.