Demonic Kitsune

The children slowly assembled on the platform, dressed in demon-illustrated robes of various colors. Some began circulating their demonic energy and activating Body Reinforcement Techniques. They shivered from the chilly breeze, shaking off their early morning lethargy.

Five elegant yet tough-looking instructors appeared and stood in front of the grand stage, carrying heavy brown sacks on their backs. As they placed the sacks on the floor, a loud thud echoed through the chilly silence. It was clear that whatever was inside the bags was very heavy. Despite their young age, the little Arrancars were smart enough to understand this. Due to their intense training, they had learned to think quickly to survive.

“What is that loud sound?” one child asked.

“It’s coming from the sacks,” another replied.

“Could it be some kind of iron?” a third speculated.

“I don’t know. Maybe…” another murmured.

At that moment, all the children, including Clare, focused their attention on the bag. A bald man with brown eyes, yellow skin, and sharp ears stood forward on the grand stage. 

He had a single horn on his forehead, which added to his serious look. This was Edgar Le Nigel, a senior instructor. He stood in front of the other instructors, grimacing as he loosened the sealed bag and reached inside. 

His intimidating gaze silenced the murmuring children, who soon shivered and paid attention. Letting out a sigh, he drew out several iron-weight bracers with chains connected to spiked balls.

“From today onwards, the level of difficulty in your training will increase! All of you will step forward and take these,” he announced.

His rough speech carried a faint demonic energy that everyone could hear. As soon as the senior instructor finished speaking, the other instructors turned their sacks over and dumped the iron bracers with chains connected to spiked balls onto the ground.

Clare immediately recognized the weights and their purpose. She knew they were a basic but effective way to strengthen knights and saints. Despite many years and different training methods, this simple weight training was still very effective. Clare remembered trying something similar in her previous life to increase her physical strength as a saintess. Back then, she used sandbags and metal bead bags of different sizes. It felt like her limbs would fall off as if she were carrying the whole world.

Thanks to this method in her past life, Clare's body became stronger than steel. Knowing the benefits of this training, she anticipated well-built muscles in her legs and arms, and a flexible yet strong waist, belly, and abdomen.

If the little Arrancars wore these bracers with spiked balls and went up and down the tunnel of the Gate of Hell during their morning training, those who endured would see incredible benefits for their bodies. However, some might die or fail to return quickly due to the extreme internal and ambient heat. Even with their demonic energy and techniques, symptoms like dizziness, dry throat, suffocation, and headaches would affect them. This training was high-risk but had high rewards.

To Clare, as complicated as this was, it was something amazing, making her inwardly chuckle while her tails wriggled joyfully. Contemplating the benefits, Clare received her bracers from one of the female instructors, who handed them out. She attached one to each of her limbs. Each iron brace weighed about 10.5 kg.

Following the law of holy equilibrium taught in the Holy Academy, Clare wore one on each forearm and ankle. She placed them in spots that would help distribute the strain evenly throughout her body, keeping her strength balanced. Her anxious tails whispered to her, guiding her.

Some children couldn’t stand the sudden increase in weight. They fell and couldn’t move a muscle. To adapt and descend the Gate of Hell, the little Arrancers needed time to adjust. But there wasn't time for gradual adaptability, as the instructors were harsh. After all, they were demons.

The instructors began whipping the other children with sharp spiked whips. Blood splattered, and cries filled the chilly air. Clare swallowed dry spit, her anxious tails flinching. Her face was inwardly distorted in disgust. This wasn’t just a training session; it was meant to nurture the strong ones who would secure the Clan's future. The younger ones' despair, terror, and agony gave the instructors profound euphoria. Clare clicked her tongue in disgust at the sight.

“I’ll permit you three hours. Descend the Gate of Hell and prove you’re strong enough to be a demon. Take a baton and bring it back here. There are only 105 batons. Those who do not ascend with one will not receive breakfast, will be whipped one hundred and five times, and will have to descend and ascend the Gate of Hell thirty more times!” The senior instructor, arms behind his back, shouted with vigor and high spirits.

Clare’s ears twitched, catching a particular word in the instructor's declaration.

‘No prison meals?’

Right, the meals served to the children were nourishing and well-balanced but small in portion, making every meal crucial. Missing a meal meant more pain and possibly death by starvation. The instructor's declaration of no food was absurd. How far would they go? Just missing a meal could mean indirect death through the additional punishment.

Clare's inward expression was one of disbelief, but she kept an indifferent and calm exterior. The little Arrancars around her, however, reacted fiercely and determinedly. As if this was what they were waiting for. Clare was initially dumbfounded. Could these kids be masochists?

She knew them well after a year, but she never expected this reaction. Only 105 batons meant around 25 of them wouldn’t have breakfast, would be whipped, and would have to re-ascend and descend the Gate of Hell. They should be lamenting how unfair life is, or how the instructors never wanted them to suffer.

Yet, some children had already bolted from the platform to the Tunnel Gate, starting their descent into the Gate of Hell.

It was utterly ludicrous, but it was a competitive challenge. Sighing, Clare let out a deep breath. She was also half-demon, after all.

Some children, more calculative, didn’t immediately descend into the Gate of Hell. At the “Well-made Black Alloy Tunnel Gate,” they pretended to be lost in thought.

Seeing this unfold a few meters away, Clare clicked her tongue and shook her head. These cunning brats were waiting for the weak ones to strike and take their batons.

‘Unfair…’ she thought.

In fact, it was fair. It was part of the “Five Texts” of the Institute, and Clare knew it. However, she wasn’t a heavenly saintess anymore, so she looked the other way.

Though the tunnel was sweltering and the steps treacherous, adding weights to the already exhausted kids would make them incredibly tired. These calculating brats, lost in thought, weren't going to attack these weakened baby demons descending…

‘Her devilish smile says it all; she must be thinking the same thing,’ Clare thought.

She glanced at a demon girl in a platinum robe across from her on the other side of the tunnel gate. Known as SOATH, she was one of the larger kids with considerable talent. Though not on the same level as SETH, CHETH, and DALEITH, she was definitely one of the strongest kids in the institute. Most children, if attacked by her as they ascended the Gate of Hell, would lose their batons.

What’s disappointing is that she doesn’t even know the value of hard work and wants to take shortcuts to authority. Clare tsked in disgust and turned away. Of course, Clare wasn't an extremely upright and moral person in her past life; she even thought about taking shortcuts herself for a brief moment. She would definitely be able to eat her prison breakfast without much trouble.

As she heard the cries of others resonating around the platform, the prodigies began to move. This was an opportunity to train and get stronger. With her goal in mind, Clare would do anything to achieve it. To reach her goal, she needed to ascend and descend this dim, red-hot Gate of Hell without complaining.

‘She’s started moving as well.’ 

Clare noticed ‘SETH’ had just leaped into the Gate of Hell. Clare wasn’t sure why she was given the name ‘SETH,’ but with her experience from three lives, she knew SETH was the most monstrous talent in the institute, like a main character.

Clare closed her eyes, her tails curling in anticipation. She took a deep breath. The chilly wind brushed across her face as the half-moon emerged from behind the clouds. Its bright glow illuminated the depths of Tunnel Gate.

WHOOSH!

Then, she shot into the Gate of Hell.

— — — — —

None of the previous training methods had been as brutal as this one. The children's exhaustion, both physical and mental, combined with caution, made it precise. This was the first time they had been put in a situation that felt extremely competitive and dreadful. Among all the deepest Hell tunnels created by the volcano eruption in the Demon Clan, the one selected this time was one of the hottest in the entire domain.

It seemed as though the bottom of the tunnels almost reached the real scorching underworld itself. Due to the extreme heat, the boiling road was one of the most dangerous for the little Arrancars to navigate. The narrow, rocky steps were hard to grip and had no solid footholds.

Footsteps echoed in the scorching atmosphere as the little Arrancars moved at their own pace. It was nearly impossible for any 9- to 13-year-old child to descend this tunnel with lumps of metal on their limbs and without using any demonic energy. However, not everyone present was ordinary.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

“Ughhhh!”

“Shittttt!”

Cries filled the air as hot rocks fell, dislodged by the trembling magma. A slender, blue-skinned boy lost his footing next to Clare. He tumbled off the slope, teetering on the edge of the boiling magma. But, he was pulled back just in time. He landed several steps away on a partially steaming, mushy piece of ground, catching his breath.

“Butt… Hurt, Urgh!”

As the menacing-looking boy groaned, he wasn’t gravely hurt; rather, the hot vapor aggressively charred his butt. At least it was better than getting burned to a crisp. Although the wounds around his body were serious, requiring profound endurance and will to keep moving, that was the only way Clare could save him.

Clare resumed her descent into the blazing tunnel of the Gate of Hell, gazing back. It has been a long descent so far.

“Damn,” she cursed. 

She actually thought she was going to die too. Just jumping into the tunnel at the right time when the moon rays shone through hadn’t helped her land on a preferred spot. Instead, she landed on a rough foothold. This unlucky endeavor made Clare feel the pounding of a thousand weights on her, almost causing her to black out.

If she hadn’t used the spiked ball to soften her landing while utilizing the emerald rays of the moon before it ventured into the clouds, it would have been all over for her. Sighing, Clare refused to use her holy power as a shortcut. Her half-breed body, the so-called GIMEL, was still incredibly lacking despite the small changes she had undergone through the Mithril Soul and Body Reinforcement and Mithril Physique Circulation. Her tails still shivered in terror and stiffened in place.

‘Damn it, it fucking hurts!’

Cursing inwardly as she climbed places that weren’t steps, her tender and nimble fingers and palms started to bleed. Blisters on them burst.

Turning to look behind her, Clare saw some children losing their balance and falling, their screams resounding from right to left. Realizing how far the children had fallen and that they fell into the boiling, erupting magma, she glanced down, swallowed her spit, and her tails stiffened in fear. 

One mistake now would mean instant death.

With her foxy and demon instincts peaked, along with her prior experience and survival intuitions honed in countless battles, Clare’s breath shortened as she moved carefully. It felt like her lungs were dry, stiff, and incredibly hot. The hairs on her body and tails stood on end as though she could catch even the slightest spider or insect trying to survive in this harsh environment.

The fringe of Clare’s red-black demon-illustrated robes was drenched with sweat, which only restricted her movement even more. She was ready for a break.

But she couldn’t rest now. 

Clare was aware that if she took a break at this location, her body and mind would become so relaxed that she wouldn’t resume climbing. Additionally, since she was at the middle steps, which were narrower than the ones she came from, she could also be thrown off.

Right, anybody, even a spirit, could blow her off right now.

Mentally, she prepared herself and decided to recover after reaching the bottom and obtaining a baton from the baton rack first. Clare kept the image of those who had betrayed her and planned her death fresh in her mind every time she took a step down the tunnel. She gritted her teeth with determination.

“Shit…” She cursed as her feet nimbly parted ways with the ground. She avoided falling rocks and a curved-horned average-looking boy who attempted to knock her off. 

She beat him to a bloody pulp.

Moving on, having a strong will and being physically exhausted were slightly different problems. Clare descended the Hell tunnel while biting her dried cherry-red lip to the point of bleeding. As she got close to the bottom of the tunnel, she was almost crawling on all fours, sweating buckets, her tails and ears on high alert, flicking the irritated sound of dragging spiked balls behind her.

It wasn’t just her, though.

Nearly every little Arrancar who was close to the scorching bottom was about to start descending on all fours. Their exhausted legs trembled as they tried to tolerate it, dragging the spiked balls behind them. The one silver lining was that Clare had fulfilled her promise to herself and hadn’t stopped once for rest until she reached the bottom.

“Haha!” A comical laugh left her lips. “I did it at last!”

When Clare finally reached the bottom, she drew out a baton connected to a wall—a blue crystal lit up and a bell sounded, indicating that a baton was revoked. This was how the instructors knew if someone had completed a round of descent.

Taking note of the fluorescent blue light and hearing the bell sound, Clare spread out on the partially cold crimson grassy floor nearby to take a break. Luckily, this area was large enough for 40 other children to lay down or sit, gasping for air as their bodies steamed out vapor. 

They rested their hot, sweaty, worn-out bodies next to their batons. Their breaths were extremely dry and stiff, and some of them started coughing so hard from suffocation that they could die at any moment.

The same went for Clare. 

Though she seemed oddly calm and indifferent externally, she felt like she was dying once more. Clare started to regulate her breathing and slowly regained her stamina as fast as she could. Reaching the extreme bottom, she felt the frost from below the crimson grasses relaxing her rigid tails, hitting her skin and cooling down her clothes.

It was unexpectedly slick to get a good rest from such a cinch. However, if she stayed too long, her clothes, drenched in hot sweat, would get cold and stiff, and sleepiness would overcome her.

‘I have to go up quickly.’

There was even a time limit for this test, so she couldn’t afford to rest for more than fifteen minutes. During the time she gave herself to rest, Clare stretched her tender limbs, which were sore, and tried to regain as much stamina as possible before heading back up.

As Clare examined her body’s condition, her eyes darted to see how many batons were racked on the wall. There were about 20 batons left, excluding the one in her hands.

If the number of batons got thin, the last ones to reach the surface would fight for them. Clare knew what this meant. Chaos was about to ensue. And since Clare never wanted to indulge in a petty fight over batons, it was just another reason for Clare to immediately leave and ascend to the top of Hell Tunnel…

—Or at least that was what she thought.