Demonic Kitsune

Clare gazed at the unconscious fatty, contemptuous thoughts crossing her mind. 

‘What a weakling, to lose consciousness just like that.’ 

Hot sweat dripped down her cheek to her delicate neck as she gasped for air from the unexpected exertion. Her once robust nine-tails had drooped. She darted her gaze back toward the path near the rocky wall.

There, SOATH lay sprawled out, unconscious. Her clotted blood, splattered on the ground, had almost dried in the ambient heat. It seemed she had passed out from the pain inflicted upon her. Clare scoffed, considering throwing SOATH off the slope but deciding against it. Another day would come when she could take her life. For now, she hoped the little full-breed Arrancar would stay put.

Being a high-level Saintess, or perhaps a Hunter, Clare had the patience to wait for her prey to mature and commit another sin before hunting them down. Before long, she noticed her throat had become parched, and her lungs felt suffocated, making it hard to breathe. The fight had taken a toll on her, and she needed to get out quickly.

Her upright, triangular ears perked up in determination. Gritting her teeth, she turned around and left, grabbing the baton tightly. Blood dripped from her hands, leaving a trace behind her. Despite SOATH's vexing presence, Clare was confident she would reach the top of the Gate of Hell in time.

There wasn’t much time until the instructors ended the training. Clare began to see children resting one by one as they ascended. Some had charred bruises all over their legs, and blood mixed with sweat dripping down their faces and arms, steaming as it touched the hot ground. Suffocation and headaches peaked among the children. Some struggled to move, their blood quivering as they sweated buckets, while others coughed out blood, their throats parched and lungs burning. Some fainted, vomiting blood and other substances, and some fell from the slope due to extreme weakness and dizziness.

In short, it was chaotic and bloody.

To Clare, it was child abuse. Apart from the extreme conditions, these children were severely wounded and exhausted after scuffling all around the tunnel path once all the batons were taken.

Letting out a deep breath, Clare was glad she had ascended early. Otherwise, she would likely have been caught up in the large skirmish like the kids catching their breath around her. Her rigid lips curled into a faint smile as she hastened her steps. The ascent up the scorching tunnel hadn't been without attacks. As she climbed the narrow, rocky path, other children had tried to snatch the baton from her hands, just as SOATH had earlier.

The sight reminded her of ants rushing toward a single sugar cube, a small recollection she had from her younger days in her original world. She had smiled at the ants as she moved the sugar cube bit by bit, watching them rush after it.

That’s exactly how those children who attacked Clare acted, all because they assumed she was GIMEL, drained from the earlier technique she had showcased. Each time, Clare severely thrashed them and left them injured on the side of the heated path. They were beaten in such a way that was menacing yet not too dangerous.

After all, her soul was still the Heavenly Saintess, and killing demon children for survival and… even if she was now a half-breed demon, didn’t sit well with her.

‘Last one!’ 

Clare sensed a certain double-horned arrogant-looking boy launching himself at her blind spot. Despite sensing and dodging him, he mistakenly grasped one of her tails. Goosebumps rose over her body. Her head turned creepily, and her sweaty face wrinkled in rage. The little Arrancar’s face turned pale. It was a mistake, but it was too late.

Clare’s cute yet fierce fist clenched and delivered a knockout blow to his face, smashing him into the opposite wall. Blood splattered.

Letting out a sigh, she muttered, “All of you, just stay put! Okay?” Her tails dusted off some stress. None of them could respond; all who approached her had been knocked unconscious.

A sudden chill crept up her spine as Clare noticed hidden observers watching her with unexpected and nervous expressions. Clare had been biding her time and concealing her strength, but now she didn’t care. If the instructors wanted to watch, she would put on a show.

Mustering more strength from deep within, veins bulged as fatigue peaked. Regardless, Clare persisted and eventually ascended the tunnel, arriving at the Yulin Platform. As her scarred, red-hot feet made contact with the chilly ground, a swishing sound was heard, followed by white steam. It wasn’t just her feet but her whole body, as the accumulated heat collided with the cold atmosphere.

Clare flinched but soon felt comfort return as cold currents brushed through her body.

Restlessness peaked as she walked directly to the fortress-sized dining hall. It was here that instructors collected batons from the little Arrancars, giving them "Dining Hall Entry Pass Badges."

It was almost dawn, and the moon's glow had dimmed. Clare headed to the entrance and handed the instructor the baton. He took a wooden badge from a neat-looking box.

‘Hm. This Half-breed Nin made it again,’ the black-haired, single-horned instructor reflected as he saw Clare alive, but his view shifted to her bleeding hands. Did something happen in the Gate of Hell? Anything could happen there. Sighing, he decided it wasn’t his business. He gave Clare the “Dining Hall Entry Pass Badge.”

“Named Arrancar: GIMEL, you may enter,” he declared, opening the grand double doors.

Clare walked in confidently. The dining hall was magnificently made, with considerable length and height to accommodate almost two hundred little Arrancars. It had minimal decor and no windows, but it didn’t feel out of place or interrupt the comfort of having a meal. Children who arrived early sat on luxurious chairs around a gigantic, well-polished table in the center of the room. Beautiful female instructors of different skin hues, mostly two-horned demons in pink aprons, were distributing breakfast to those seated. A little more than 35 children had brought their batons before Clare.

SETH was also present among them, though a bit late.

“I’ve brought my baton,” SETH said, collecting the entry pass badge from the instructor at the entrance as the double doors creaked open. She headed to a black-haired, coquettish-looking female instructor in charge of the meals. She wore a blue apron compared to the rest.

“Named: SETH, I see you made it. Take your meal,” the instructor praised, presenting her with three fist-sized rice balls and two meatballs, which she collected and took to her seat.

The rice balls and meatballs were not ordinary but a nutritious and appetizing prize with a balanced use of meat and vegetables, given to children who passed the Gate of Hell’s harsh conditions. It was also made for them, who rarely got to eat at the institute.

It was a little small, but there were no nutritional problems at all. This was a standard dinner at the institute, designed to keep demons from becoming sluggish by never providing enough food to be satisfied.

Clare accepted her three rice and meatballs and found a spot among the other children around the large table. She sat down and began to eat peacefully.

To get the most nutritional value, she needed to chew the rice and meatballs little by little, slowly, and for a long period. That way, even a small amount would fill her stomach rather than wolfing it down in one bite and remaining hungry.

By the time Clare finished her meal, most of the other children had left the dining hall. Children who made it to the top and registered their batons earned three rice and meatballs, while those who didn’t ascend with a baton were forced to watch with jealous and hateful eyes.

Among them was SOATH. 

Clare turned her head to look at her. SOATH had survived the encounter in the Gate of Hell and was led to the infirmary for “Demonic Healing.” Her broken arm, bleeding head, and unstable neck were bandaged with wooden POV. Other internal issues persisted, like dizziness and chronic headaches.

Normally, she should have been healed instantly by a Demonic Healer, but the Institute prohibited full recovery healing for any Arrancars. The healers only did enough so she could manage walking. Clare couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at her appearance, resembling someone who had a truck accident but never got isekaied.

The even stranger thing was, SOATH was gnashing her teeth and looking resentfully at Clare. Nevertheless, she didn’t dare make eye contact, contemplating the punishment she would receive from the instructor. She realized she couldn’t do anything about it.

Clare was already stressed enough. Her tails ached, and her whole body was sore. She just wanted to crawl into her room and nap, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. Clare looked at SOATH for a moment before turning her head. She couldn't let her body get the better of her. She needed to begin a new form of training now that she had eaten breakfast, even if she wasn’t ready. 

After all, resting was for a lazy Nin.

— — — — —

A few hours had passed since Clare stepped out of the dining hall and onto the Yulin Platform, dragging the spiked balls connected to her braces behind her. Dawn had arrived and soon turned into late morning. The sun shone, tickling her very tender skin and highlighting her vibrant nine-tails and fluffy ears.

The sky was a bright reddish-yellow, a sight that could either be admired or felt as eerie. As the breeze fluttered everything in its path, to Clare, it wasn’t all that bad.

Only a few children were gathered. Some had ascended with the baton, and those who hadn’t were undergoing their appropriate punishments. The rest stood waiting for what came next from the senior instructor on the grand stage.

Regardless, it wasn’t the instructor’s problem if the children complied or not, as Senior Instructor Edgar Le Nigel moved forward.

“First of all, unbuckle the spiked balls from your iron braces,” he declared, his voice imbued with demonic energy.

The little Arrancars present, including Clare, breathed a sigh of relief and immediately did as they were told. The impact of the spiked balls hitting the ground resounded fiercely and simultaneously.

Feeling lighter and freer, the children silently flexed their worn-out muscles. Clare, glad to have just 10.5 kg spiked balls on each of her four limbs, felt her body lighten and become more flexible. Though the 10.5 kg iron braces remained, they had their own benefits. She wondered what the Institute had in mind next. Could it be that…? A premonition rushed through Clare’s head, but she swallowed dryly in anticipation.

“Now then,” the senior instructor continued, hands behind his back, “you all will be learning swordsmanship, but first, you will start with Demonic Energy Manifestation!”

Clare’s premonition was right. The few children on the Yulin Platform were greatly shaken by the instructor’s words. Some had been learning Demonic Energy Manifestation because of their backgrounds, while the unfortunate ones with poor backgrounds hadn’t. However, all knew what it meant.

They could become stronger, break free from poverty and hardship, and be of use to the Demon Clan.

According to tales told to most Arrancars when they were infants, “An Archdemon in legends could soar through the skies with wings or levitate without them.” And “They could break rocks with just one finger, move faster than sound, while the Demon Lord himself could move faster than light and fight one on one with high-level saintesses and knights.”

Learning about “Demonic Aura” or, in simpler terms, “Demonic Energy” manifestation meant this to the kids. It was natural for them to be surprised when they learned they would finally be able to learn what they had long desired.

The entire platform was chattering and…

“Can you believe it? We're finally going to learn how to manifest demonic energy!” a double-horned, blue-skinned demon boy exclaimed, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“I heard it's incredibly difficult,” a timid, frons curved-horned girl replied, her voice tinged with nervousness. “But if we master it, we'll be unstoppable.”

The children stood upright and well-aligned, exchanging rumors and speculations. Some boasted about their future intentions, while others listened intently, eager to express their inner desires.

“Apparently, it requires immense concentration and control,” a tall, older child said authoritatively. “Only the strong and enduring will be able to master it.”

Some children looked determined, while others appeared anxious. The excitement was palpable, energizing the entire platform.

Near the center of the commotion, a group of younger children muttered among themselves, their faces alight with curiosity.

“How do you think it feels?” one of them asked. “To have that kind of power?”

“I bet it's amazing,” another replied, his voice full of awe. “Imagine what we could do and acquire!”

…. the chatter rapidly became raucous, slightly distorting the senior instructor’s face in fury.

“SILENCE!” he roared.

The instructor’s voice, filled with demonic energy, resonated through the din. Shockwaves traveled over the platform as the children closed their ears. A few red plants and grasses nearby withered and dried to dust, fluttering away in the wind.

Clare’s green brows twitched slightly. A Third Chain Arrancar? Those deemed “Third Chain” could exert quite a bit of power with their bodies, as attaining that level required years of demonic energy or aura accumulation. Not many in “Salamander” could honestly call themselves “Third Chain.” But with one glance, Clare knew she had underestimated these demon instructors. They are one level below my previous life, but still…

Her eyes narrowed as her nine tails seemed to whisper, “Underestimation leads to death, little Foxy.”

Clare could relate. Once someone was skilled enough to be called a “Third Chain,” they were strong enough to level their surroundings when fighting. It was the very definition of breaking through a being’s limit. The senior instructor in front of her was a powerful man who could easily form a major battle force out of middle-sized guilds and semi-middle-sized kingdoms.

As Clare was being evaluated by the senior instructor, he smiled slightly with satisfaction at the quiet little Arrancars.

“Just because you’ll be learning Demonic Energy Manifestation doesn’t mean you’ll be stronger right away. One can’t build a house with red sand and expect it to be majestic and elegant. Just like you’ve been training yourself elegantly for the past year in preparation, you will first learn how to accumulate to manifest.”

He took a small, stylish handout from his dark red, demon-illustrated platinum robes.

When Clare heard the name, she nodded slightly.

Demonic Energy.

Also known as the “Demonic Energy Manifestation Technique,” it was one of the best foundational monster manifestation techniques for building and manifesting a solid foundation of pure inhuman demonic energy or aura.

The “Holy Church Holy Power Manifestation Technique,” or “Knights Manifestation Technique,” emphasized stability but traded off slower growth compared to most monster techniques.

“Monster Manifestation Techniques” or “Monsterization” typically had the opposite trade-offs. They emphasized fast growth with the risk of instability in the energy. This could lead to problems in their later growth as “Demonic Knights” or “Infected Monsters.” However, the Demonic Energy Manifestation Technique was a high-level technique among the Monster races; it was used by demons since not all monsters could handle the toll taken on one’s body.

Only a few monsters, like “trolls and ogres,” had regeneration that healed their bodies internally but no tremendous vitality whatsoever. This technique was more suitable for demons, whose regeneration capabilities were slightly reduced, but their “vitality” and “physique for endurance and evolution” were the strongest. It was a rare method that Clare had heard of.

It had incredibly explosive growth compared to most “Monster Manifestation Techniques” or “Monsterization,” but what was incredible about it was the fact that it collected incredibly pure demonic energy with even better stability.

“Those who already know how to read, move to the right. Those who don’t, move to the left and line up accordingly,” the senior instructor declared.

The little Arrancars first hesitated and then began to move to the groups they belonged to, according to their height. Clare joined the group on the right. The senior instructor first approached the group of children who had learned to read and write.

“Before lunch, all of you will memorize the thirty-verse texts in the handout.”

In other words, based on the senior instructor’s manner of speech, it seemed like the children who got an ass-whooping, then re-descended and ascended the tunnel, didn’t get meals earlier, and might not get lunch either.

“Those who don’t know how to read will memorize thirty verses a day. If you can’t memorize it, there will be no meal and twelve strokes of ass-whooping.”

The children’s eyes glistened with devotion at the senior instructor’s words. It wasn’t easy to memorize just thirty verses out of 100 for either group. Simply looking at the speed they were requiring the kids to learn, it meant the children would be learning six verses within five days.

It was important for the little Arrancars to eat in the prime of their development, so this was just another cruel punishment if they didn’t meet expectations. Starvation, constant ass-whooping, and double training naturally made one physically weaker over time, and the mind became fatigued.

Since this place was where one died if one couldn’t endure, grow, and get stronger, Clare knew it was cruel but necessary. The Demon Clan only needed strong demon fighters and warriors who could perhaps gain Archdemon or general ranks to lead their clan, not weaklings. Clare went up the stairs and received a handout on the grand stage along with other little Arrancars that were being handed out by the instructor.

.....

— Concentration calms one's mind and heart while bursting with desire.

— As the conduit, the body and soul will temper the intensity of one's desire while still allowing it to display its intensity.

— The intensity bursts the seas of consciousness with rage and surges with one's spirit!

— One's heart, as the medium, neutralizes the ferocity of one's spirit but still allows it to show its rage.

— When the sea of consciousness and one's heart meet within one’s awareness, they will come together and fuse.

— The act of combining one's sea of consciousness to tint it black and one's heart red allows one to temper their spirit and unlock potential from one's hunger while creating what one could imagine!

— One's imagination represents a breakthrough from one's limitations, creating perfection!

— This perfection that would be embedded into one's soul is the demon supreme itself.

.....

Any knight or saint who saw these verses couldn’t help but be seduced by such a high-level accumulation method. However, Clare boldly curbed the greed within herself.

‘I am the heavenly saintess, the glimmer of hope, the light that purges the darkness. I am "Nin" and a demon. I never signed any contract with a god or goddess, neither in my past life nor in this one. I will not abandon my roots.’

After that inner declaration, she felt a surge of breakthrough energy from her soul, making her sigh lightly.

The "Holy Church technique," practiced to accumulate holy mana quickly from the surroundings to a specific point, was called…

Η ενοποίηση και ενίσχυση της Ιερής μάνας: The unification and amplification of Holy mana 

“Mithril's soul and body reinforcement” was a technique Clare used to enhance her soul and body, increasing her talent and making her body a suitable vessel for holy power. In contrast, “Mithril Physique Circulation” circulated the accumulated very insignificant holy mana throughout her body.

These techniques were fundamentally different; neither accumulated rapidly developing holy mana within the body. Because of her roots and devotion to her goal and her life as a heavenly saintess—Holiness, it was easy for Clare to abandon her greed for the technique.

But that didn’t mean she had to completely give up on it. With a sudden flash of inspiration, Clare thought of something incredible. An action she normally did herself, something she learned from her beautiful, caring mother:

"...Miles, if you can't use it, alter it to what benefits you. Just don't let any of it go to waste just because it can't be of use to you. Okay, my sweet, dear baby boy."

A very distant memory from her first life. She could still remember her mother's warm smile, her hand on her head, and the nod of understanding she gave, though her mother’s face had faded from memory.

She felt bitter, but there was nothing she could do. 'Mother,' echoed in her mind.

She clenched her cute fist as her watery emerald eyes showed how much she missed her mother…