Demonic Kitsune (Old Version)

All young Arrancars should know their place. Do not cross the line. Do not show hostility without the strength to back it up. Mercy was given only once. Sparing an enemy didn’t make her foolish; it was a calculated move. She preferred to wait, patient and watchful, for her enemies to mature—whether in age or mentality—before they made the conscious choice to sin again. Only then would she hunt them down. This warning was common in GIMEL’s teachings at the Institute. Every Arrancar knew the consequences of defying someone as gentle and considerate as her.

Back then, young Arrancars were too naive to understand good and evil fully. Their misdeeds were the harmless antics of demon brats—comical evil, survival evil, or evil for fun.

But when they grew old enough to tell right from wrong and chose to sin against her again, GIMEL would have no choice but to bare her fangs. Her response depended on the sin. Sometimes, she’d knock sense into those who offended her, teaching them the same lesson over and over. Clare wouldn’t mind. But if it was something greater—an unprovoked attack on her life fueled by jealousy, envy, or spite—against her life then GIMEL, or rather Clare, would have every right in this cruel world to end the enemy’s life without hesitation.

Now, it was happening in real-time on the Wagi Kai.

It was a vivid reminder of her warning, not just to DALETH, Lee Won-bin—who didn’t know his place and dared to show extreme hostility driven by jealousy and envy, trying to kill her simply because she was stronger—but to all the Institute graduates watching the battle.

Lee Won-bin was just another example.

Sparks crackled and snapped, dark energy exploding behind her as she moved, shaking the Wagi Kai platform. DALETH retreated, dodging the onslaught as steam rose off his body. He shifted his stance, circling the platform, and added a spin to his next move. With fierce momentum, he swung his dual axes toward GIMEL.

“Did you think I’d let myself explode and lose? Absolutely not, you damned Nin bitch!”

DALETH tightened his grip and swung his dual axes with vigor. They carved through the air in two arcs, each coming from a different direction. At first glance, it looked like a basic swing, but it was far more—each motion carried layers of deception.

Clare's bushy tails tensed, her ears perking up. She knew better. The unnatural twist of DALETH's waist couldn’t support such a swift move. It was a fake, quickly abandoned. The hilts of his axes shifted in his grasp, each hiding a strike from below. It was a rare wild unpredictable technique, more Barbarian than Arrancar. Clare barely acknowledged the thought of Lee-won bin origin crossing her mind. She didn’t care—it wouldn’t work on her.

Her instincts kicked in. She bent backward, effortlessly avoiding the axes as they swept from earth to sky. When DALETH followed up with a second strike, Clare met him head-on, her scythe clashing against his axes. The sound of metal against metal rang out like a bell, echoing across the battlefield. The force of the collision sent a shockwave through the air, powerful enough to rattle DALETH’s bones. He winced in pain but a quick readjustment should be able to steady his stance and grip, right?

Alas, Clare didn’t give him a chance. She lunged forward and swung her scythe, aiming for his neck.

“Don’t lose so easily,” GIMEL remarked from the sidelines.

DALETH, still reeling, couldn’t fully recover. GIMEL’s voice echoed in his mind as her scythe forced his body into a painful twist, sending fresh pain up his spine. DALETH’s horns tingled, his tail twitched, and his senses screamed danger. Before he could react, Clare’s foot slammed into him, sending him flying across the platform. Mouth shot opened as he smashed into the bricked wall with a thunderous crash, forming a crater as cracks spidered across the wall. Debris fell and dust filled the air.

"Ku-ugh!"

The impact jolted DALETH back to consciousness, but it did little to help—it was too late. The fury of the Kitsune he had foolishly provoked was now bearing down on him.

Clare approached, her tails swelling and twisting in the air, brimming with extreme bloodlust that pressured him greatly. DALETH raised his axes, trembling, blood dripping from his lips. The kick had ruptured something inside him. His once-unshakable confidence, built on his barbarian blood and demon physique, was crumbling. But he couldn’t let it end here.

Before he could steady himself, Clare was already in front of him—her empty green predatory gaze made his heart race.

His blood pounded in his ears as panic set in—his mind flashed back to Wagi Kai—how could a Kitsune like this not show any fatigue?

Unlike her previous battles, GIMEL’s breathing, and heartbeat were calm, her expression cold and tranquil, like still water.

It was then that DALETH realized how much he had underestimated her. This Nin wasn’t just a Kitsune—she was a demonic Kitsune he should never have crossed. Fear coursed through him, his legs trembling. He wanted to surrender, to beg for mercy, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. The blood of a barbarian burned within him, and his honor as an Arrancar screamed for one last fight. He gripped his axes tighter.

“I’d rather die than surrender,” he growled, his cobalt eyes burning with defiance.

His pale, sinewy frame bulged as he summoned every ounce of strength, veins straining against his skin and along his arms as he clutched his axes and channeled his remaining demonic energy into one final swing.

But Clare had seen it coming—she moved faster, cutting through the space between them like the wind.

“…I know. You always make this your last move. But…”

GIMEL’s voice trailed off as her scythe sliced through the air. DALETH's power surged, but his horns tingled with fear. Clare met his axes mid-swing, effortlessly deflecting his attack, the explosion that followed shook the walls and the platform. She moved through the smoke like a ghost, her movements precise and lethal—too fast for him to track.

DALETH’s instincts screamed, but he couldn’t sense her presence. Had his attack landed? Could he have wounded her? No. He knew GIMEL was no ordinary foe. She wouldn’t fall to such a weak strike.

When the dust cleared, his instincts flared again. He turned, just in time to see GIMEL’s hand reach out—too slow. Clare’s hand, pale and deadly, coated with a unique energy closed around his neck.

“You’ve overstayed your welcome,” she whispered, her voice like ice.

In an instant, DALETH’s head exploded in a burst of gore. His lifeless body, swollen from his demonic transformation, collapsed with a heavy thud. The battle was over before he could even comprehend his own death.

“…And the Wagi Kai is over.”

The Demoness’s voice echoed through the chamber. DALETH had emerged from the Institute of Arrancars, believing in his own superiority, only to pick a fight with someone far beyond his strength—and die for it. His arrogance had cost him his life.

The overwhelming disparity in power was clear among the members of the First, Second, and Third Arrancar Squads, especially those under GIMEL. Some gazed at the Kitsune in awe, cold sweat trickling down their cheeks as they swallowed nervously. Others couldn’t hide their fear. Noir wore a satisfied yet unsettling smile, while CHETH looked on with pride, grateful he had set aside his pride and grudges to follow the Nin. It was the wisest choice he had ever made.

“Tch,” Clare muttered bitterly. Another talented Arrancar had fallen. There was no pride in it; only emptiness. Her bushy tails fluttered, almost as if consoling her, urging her not to mourn such a pitiful brat. She shot one final glare at DALETH’s cold, lifeless body before turning away, hoping DALETH would find peace and live a normal life in Vinland as she shook the clotted blood off her hands. She hoped this would be enough to serve as a warning to the others.

The Demoness’s commanding voice broke the tension, ringing through the grand chamber.

“The First Arrancar Squad shall be promoted to the ‘Soaring Heaven Equal Unit’. As for the Squad leader…” The Demoness’s eyes fell on GIMEL, who stepped forward and bowed.

“It’s GIMEL,” she said.

“Don’t you have a true name?” the Demoness inquired, her tone curious.

“I don’t,” GIMEL answered earnestly, though she was ready to lie if needed. “I don’t remember my name since awakening in the Demon Clan.”

It was a believable explanation, though the Demoness’s gaze lingered, scrutinizing GIMEL as if trying to pierce through her resolve. The weight of her presence increased a palpable force meant to intimidate GIMEL into revealing more. But…

“Is that so?” The Demoness’s voice held a trace of doubt. She studied GIMEL for a moment longer before a faint, unreadable smile tugged at her lips. “You don’t say.”

… it was no avail. GIMEL’s defiance, her stubborn will, and her half-breed nature seemed to amuse the Demoness. Silence settled over the room as the Demoness rose gracefully from her opulent throne.

"In any case, does any soul here contest the ascension of Squad Leader GIMEL to the rank of Arrancar Knight and General?" Her voice echoed, carrying a weight that demanded respect.

None dared to speak. Every Arrancar present had witnessed GIMEL’s strength firsthand. Most felt relieved she hadn’t chosen to turn that strength against them.

"It appears there are no objections. Henceforth, the First Arrancar Squad shall be known as the ‘Soaring Heaven Equal Unit’. GIMEL, as the Unit's leader, shall bear the rank of Arrancar Knight/General."

“I thank the Demoness,” GIMEL said, her voice steady.

Clare and the rest of the newly named ‘Soaring Heaven Equal Unit’ leaped to her side, bowing deeply in unison. They voiced their gratitude loudly, their voices echoing through the grand chamber.

But Yue Mingkong Gu had not yet finished. She turned and walked out of the Wagi Kai, heading toward the Main Royal Palace. The others followed closely, leaving the once vibrant chamber in silence. Soon, masked, one-horned Arrancar cleaners entered, tasked with restoring order. They moved quickly, casting strange demonic spells to mend the damaged areas, while DALETH’s corpse was carried out on a stretcher, destined for the graveyard.

Thus, the Wagi Kai concluded.

— — — — —

With the Wagi Kai concluded, all the Arrancars who followed the Demoness returned silently to the Main Throne Room. They reassembled as if what had happened in Wagi Kai remained only there, remembered but unspoken.

The atmosphere within the Throne Room, already intimidating, intensified. The ornate throne stood on a higher platform, backed by an enormous bas-relief of the Demon God—a terrifying figure with seven horns and flaming eyes. Seated upon the throne was Yue Mingkong Gu, the leader of the Demonic Arrancar Clan, known as the Demoness.

"Moreover, the First Arrancar Squad lent their aid to the Second in their endeavor. GIMEL, who hath vanquished the Fairy Saint of the Central Holy Church, shall be granted the privilege to enter the Demonic Armory Vault. Henceforth, may thy loyalty to the Clan and the Demon God remain steadfast.”

Clare bowed deeply at the end of the speech, still awkward around the “Divine being,” but grateful it wasn’t forced. “I understand, my Demoness.”

The atmosphere within the First Arrancar Squad, now called the ‘Soaring Heaven Equal Unit,’ was festive. Most of them wore smiles of pride. CHETH, who could have led his own squad, was now the second-in-command of an elite squad and laughed more brightly than anyone.

On the other hand, the Second Arrancar Squad wore the same distorted, frowning expressions as their leader. They were upset by their mission's outcome but relieved they returned intact, even if just for another day. Despite their leader’s skills, unforeseen variables in the mission had rendered their efforts futile. There would be no exceptions simply because life felt unfair.

They had no choice but to accept their fate—especially since the Demoness had punished the Divine Maiden the same way. Noir glanced over at GIMEL, knowing the Inverted Peak of Despair and Terror would soon narrow the gap between them.

The Northern Inverted Peak, with its pulsating aura of dread, was a realm of pure despair. Only the strong could survive. The weak would succumb, lost to the terrors of death, their spirits doomed to wander in voidless agony. For the Second Squad, it was a place where growth was the only option. Noir clenched her fists, a faint smile of determination on her lips.

While the atmosphere in the Third Squad was the most ambiguous. They weren’t punished, but neither were they rewarded. Their squad leader, Lee Won-bin, should have qualified as an Arrancar Knight or General and helped the squad earn a promotion like the First Squad. However, he had challenged the wrong Kitsune and was killed by her. Because of this, the Third Squad’s promotion was canceled. It was a situation where they could neither cry nor laugh.

Despite their frustration, they couldn’t direct their anger at the one responsible. GIMEL, who had also knocked down DALETH, was without a doubt the strongest among those from the Institute of Arrancars. After witnessing her strength, none of them dared to protest; doing so would be nothing short of courting death.

On the other hand, GIMEL—Clare, having achieved her wish, had different thoughts than the others.

Demonic Armory Vault.

Unlike the Demonic Treasure Vault, which resided in distorted and ripple spaces within Kronos Peak, the Demonic Armory Vault was fiercely protected. The tower-like fortress stood atop a caldera's peak, surrounded by a dense crimson misty forest near a magma volcano. Its barren, rocky landscape was devoid of paths, with inscription arrays hung unpredictably, making stealthy infiltration impossible.

This level of security was due to the divine weapons stored within, collected from all over Salamander. The vault housed weapons of immense power, ranging from Divine Demonic weapons to Legendary Divine Weapons. Clare’s eyes shone with excitement. She had never imagined she would enter the Demonic Armory Vault so soon.

Though warriors, whether Knights, Saints, or Assassins, shouldn’t rely solely on weapons, it was natural to covet superior ones. The sixty-year-old Legendary Cold Titanium Steel Scythe was a decent weapon, but it was far from a masterpiece. A true masterpiece required the soul of a “Divine Metal Forger” and the finest materials. Memories of her past weapon, the one she wielded up to her final moments, flashed through her mind. But more than anything, a weapon needed to perfectly match its owner.

After the meeting, Mei Tai led all the graduates—excluding the Second Arrancar Squad, who were being punished—on her “Demonic Drifting Cloud.” This thick, dark carpet of energy, alive and pulsing, was an extension of her power, propelling them through the twilight sky.

The night was picturesque, the full moon casting an emerald glow over the landscape. A cold breeze blew, reminding the Arrancars of how much time they had spent in the Royal Palace. Mei Tai’s energy guided them through the sinister beauty of the land below, its darkness amplifying every detail. Though it was summer, the peak was covered in snow highlighted by the glow. Clare’s bushy tails fluttered slightly in the wind as she reflected on her thoughts.

The teachings of the Central Holy Church and also widely known across Salamander, say that any weapon with a soul—regardless of rank—will sometimes accept its master’s will. Unfortunately, Clare had never owned such a weapon, even in her previous sacred life as the Heavenly Saintess. She didn’t fully understand the concept.

But that wasn’t her only concern. She glanced over her shoulder at the wrapped scythe strapped to her back. If she acquired a new weapon, what would she do with her current one? The scythe, an incredible piece made from Legendary Cold Titanium Steel, emitted a frosty aura. It would be a shame to waste such precious metal.

Should she melt it and make a new weapon?

The scythe wasn’t made entirely from Legendary Cold Titanium Steel; other materials had been added during the forging process. Still, it was good enough. Depending on what Clare wanted, she could repurpose the metal to create at least two new weapons.

Clare thought carefully. She needed something for long-range combat and another weapon for close quarters. The scythe was perfect for mid-range, but she needed other weapons to complement it.

It would be good to look for a “Divine Forger” within the Clan—

—after she gets a new Scythe from Vault that is.

Clare wasn’t sure if she’d find the perfect one, but something inside her felt like destiny was at play. This feeling wasn’t based on her experiences, knowledge, or any facts she knew—it was something deeper, stirring faintly within her.

Either way, she will find out tomorrow.

As they traveled, the air transformed into swirling, heterochromatic currents, dense and almost palpable. Oppressive heat from nearby magma peaks clashed with fierce, biting winds. The violent forces buzzed against the tendrils of energy dancing off the Demonic Drifting Cloud. They weren’t merely descending peaks but traversing a realm of extremes—hot, burning gusts mingling with sharp, icy winds, drifting through clouds that pulsed with life in the twilight.

— — — —

The newly formed "Soaring Heaven Equal Unit" celebrated on a platform around a bonfire, reveling in their achievement until the late hours of the night. While they enjoyed their triumph, the rest of the Clan continued their duties as usual, indifferent to the joy that seemed reserved only for the unit. Eventually, the graduates returned to their private residences.

The darkest night gave way as dawn broke, the sun rising over the horizon. Its warm light chased away the mist, illuminating everything with a bright intensity.

A few hours after dawn, Clare was visited by a guide who knocked on her door to lead her through a hidden route between towering peaks to the Demonic Armory Vault, as ordered by the Demoness. The guide was an Arrancar, dressed more elegantly than usual, and Clare recognized him instantly.

"Senior Edgar, are you guiding me?" Clare asked. She wore her dark robe, her hair tied back in a ponytail, with a wrapped weapon slung across her back. She stepped outside, locking the door with a touch of her palm on the Talisman Array. A faint whisper echoed as her demonic energy imprinted a unique pattern on the door.

"Well, it is what it is. Senior Sister Mei Tai asked me to do the job since we’re already acquainted, and she couldn’t make it," Edgar Le Nigel replied, watching as Clare finished up and descended the stairs to the platform in front of her residence.

"You must be disappointed."

"Not particularly," Edgar said with a shrug. "The Great Tactician suggested this route, and the paths to the Vault change every twelve hours."

Clare nodded.

The guide was the "Elegant Demon of Bloody Daggers," Edgar Le Nigel, her former Senior Instructor at the Institute of Arrancar.

"Let’s start moving since Mei Tai didn’t lend me the Cloud Travel Item," Edgar said as the wind picked up around them.

He referred to the "Demonic Drifting Cloud," a magical item forged from artificial clouds and natural demonic energy. Shaped like a carpet, it allowed those who channeled their power into it to traverse the skies. Convenient and costly, it could have spared them the strenuous climb on foot.

"That’s a bummer," Clare said with a hint of respect. She sensed a change in Edgar’s demeanor towards her, perhaps because of what he had witnessed at the Royal Palace the previous day. Before yesterday, Clare had merely been a Demonic Viking, not worthy of the open respect of a High-end Arrancar Knight like Edgar. But now, as a freshly promoted Arrancar Knight with the potential to become a Grand Rook, she stood on a different level.

"Enough small talk. Let’s get moving," Edgar said, his voice still strict.

Clare nodded in amazement at Edgar’s unwavering strict demeanor. "No matter how polite a wolf is, it’s still an alpha,"

Like that, they set off, with Edgar leading the way, leaving the peak that housed Clare’s private residence and the equally spaced Soaring Heaven Equal Unit residences.

They traveled through dense forests and leaped over countless peaks. Crimson-orange forests, demonic insects, and animals engaged in their own battles spread out below them, and the duo navigated around forbidden zones and barriers with ease. Each step carried them great distances, and time blurred as they moved.

Clare followed closely behind Edgar. The wind howled, their footsteps steady, and their breathing rhythmic. After some time, Edgar was the first to break the silence.

"Your footwork has improved since the Seclusion Training," Edgar said, glancing back at Clare.

"You flatter me, Senior," Clare replied calmly. "Isn’t it the result of the Arrancar training at the Institute?"

Edgar laughed awkwardly. Clare’s words were unintentionally sharp, reminding him of the harsh nature of their training. Arrancars trained by the Institute pursued power through near-death experiences, terror, and pain, which accelerated their growth. However, this growth often became inconsistent as their mental fortitude, willpower, and comprehension varied. Many stagnated due to the fear of energy overflow, backlash, and mental instability.

Edgar Le Nigel was one of the Arrancars. A few years ago, sometime before the Seclusion Training, he reached the level of Third-and-a-Half Chain Arrancar. This was after the young Arrancars had spent four and a half years training independently. His achievements earned him a promotion to High-end Arrancar Knight. Though he still held that rank, his progress had slowed. While his fighting style and comprehension had improved, the changes were subtle, reflecting only a small degree of growth.

A lonely smile crossed Edgar’s face.

He might be ahead of other Senior Instructors on different platforms, but Mei Tai had her own potential despite refusing to advance beyond “Grand Rook.” Even when the Assistant Dean and Edgar encouraged her to rise higher, she declined. Mei Tai preferred a carefree life, savoring her favorite tea, and managing the Institute’s activities for future generations rather than pursuing more burdensome responsibilities. The memories of the Holy Grail War were still fresh in her mind.

Could Edgar Le Nigel ever live like that?

He clenched his fist tightly, then released it, his mind briefly wrestling with the thought. After a moment, he regained his composure and schooled his expression.

"Just because the Arrancars trained by the Institute have that nature doesn’t mean everyone can achieve your level of growth," Edgar said. "With your skills and potential, you’ll continue to climb without a problem. We just have to keep growing without rest on the Demonic path."

His words were meant for Clare but also himself. Edgar felt a sense of responsibility for Clare’s growth, having watched her from the beginning and reported on her progress. But why had he been so invested? Was it because he’d seen her survive when others didn’t? The question lingered as the morning breeze brushed against his face.

Clare remained silent, her eyes closed as she focused on her “Seventh Mind,” a state of heightened awareness. Edgar quickened his pace. "Let’s move a little faster."

They continued leaping from peak to peak, leaving their region behind and moving toward the Demonic Armory Vault, which loomed closer with every step. The wind whipped across their faces, their robes fluttered, and their surroundings blurred. Dense crimson forests gave way to rocky, barren landscapes…

Their journey through the drifting path toward the Vault was just beginning.