Demonic Kitsune (Old Version)

After Clare walked down from the Demonic Armory Vault, she flexed her arms and neck to ease the stiffness. She inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly before stepping into the forest. The wind swept everything in its path as she entered the dense crimson woods. There were no illusion barriers this time—those only activated for those approaching the vault with intent. For those leaving, like Clare, it was just a hot, oppressive forest with sparse sunlight filtering through the thick canopy and the distant volcano looming nearby.

The barren, rocky, misty landscape was difficult to traverse, but for an Arrancar who had survived countless trials at the Institute, it was easy. The place lived up to its reputation, with inscription arrays creating unpredictable barriers that made stealthy infiltration nearly impossible. Still, Clare had no trouble navigating it.

After several twists and turns, she reached the tunnel entrance where Edgar Le Nigel waited. He eyed the scythe strapped to her back.

“That scythe… is that your choice?” he asked.

Clare adjusted the new weapon, satisfied but not showing off its unique storage effect. It was a good choice, she thought. Edgar’s eyes, however, weren’t on her as she had hoped. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the beautifully forged scythe.

For a moment, silence settled between them as the wind rustled through the forest, swirling leaves around their robes. Edgar’s mind briefly lingered on the scythe’s uniqueness, but he quickly shifted his attention—exhaled, and turned toward the dark tunnel. “Let’s return.”

Clare couldn’t read Edgar Le Nigel’s expression as he continued through the tunnel, but the latter had deepened in thought. To think that the ‘Absolute Binds of Grim Scythe’ and the ‘Absolute Reaper Compensation: The Six Binds of Grim’ would come together in the end.

What fate...!

Edgar had once encountered the scythe now in GIMEL’s hands. As for the other technique, Mei Tai, the Dean had explained it to him–when he asked–after the last trial at the Institute, where GIMEL used it to knock out CHETH.

It had never suited Edgar’s style, so he hadn’t bothered to explore it further. Still, he knew both the scythe and the technique held some mysterious, perhaps even bizarre, purpose—why else would they reside in two separate, important Vaults of the Clan?

That both the technique and the divine weapon would meet in this way, so soon, was unexpected. It was the kind of event that hadn’t occurred in hundreds of years.

Edgar Le Nigel closed his eyes for a moment and continued walking in silence until they reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into the dense forest. “Being part of the Thirteen Guard Squad of the Supporting Units… it must be a heavy burden,” he finally said.

Clare nodded. “I do feel the weight of responsibility.”

The Thirteen Guard Squad of the Supporting Units was an elite group tasked with defending the Demonic Arrancar Clan and completing dangerous missions. Apart from Clare, the members of the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit lacked experience, despite their skills. Without the memories of her past lives, Clare’s situation would have been no different. Still, they had no choice but to bear the load.

“It will be difficult, but I believe you’ll manage well,” Edgar said with a faint smile.

If it had been another High-end Arrancar Knight or General, they likely wouldn’t have been so genuinely supportive. Most of them were naturally wary of Clare—GIMEL, the cunning half-breed Nin who had risen up the ranks so quickly. In fact, it wasn’t just GIMEL they feared; the entire Soaring Heaven Equal Unit made them uneasy.

The unit’s origins lay in the Institute of Arrancar, a sacred place known for driving significant changes within the hierarchy of the Demon Arrancar Clan. From the perspective of the other Arrancar Knights/Generals, the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit posed a direct threat, as if many spears were pointed at their necks.

But Edgar, Mei Tai, the Assistant Dean, and other Senior Instructors were exceptions. These Arrancars had played crucial roles at the Institute, practically raising the graduates who had now emerged. Edgar, in particular, took pride in seeing the graduates he had overseen for a decade and a half grow strong and gain recognition. Other Senior Instructors felt the same about their own students. Beyond sentiment, the stronger the graduates, the greater their contributions to the Clan.

Clare could tell that Edgar, the Assistant Dean, and even the Dean were watching her closely. Unlike others, their gaze was favorable. Since they showed goodwill and curiosity, she felt no hostility toward them. After all, she was the Heavenly Saintess who never bit the hands that fed her.

“In due time, you’ll receive a mission. Don’t assume it will be easy, so stay vigilant,” Edgar advised.

“I feel prepared,” Clare responded, “but I’ll keep your words in mind.”

Edgar sighed with relief at her confidence.

“By the way,” Clare said after a pause, “I have a question.”

Edgar stopped. Throughout their conversation, Clare had mostly responded to his comments. This was her first question on the journey.

“Let’s hear it,” he said.

“I want to know about the ‘Metal Forger’ who made my scythe after the Last Trial. It’s forged from Legendary Cold Titanium Steel.”

Edgar glanced again at the scythe. “Hm. You’ve got a new one now, so you don’t need the old one. Do you plan to melt it?”

Clare nodded. “Yes.”

There weren’t many Metal Forgers skilled enough to handle Legendary Cold Titanium Steel. Rather than searching for one herself, Clare decided to ask Edgar, who had helped with her previous scythe.

Edgar found the request reasonable. “Go below the Institute’s peak, to WestTown of the Arrancars, Slum Nine. There’s an isolated Forge there. Look for a Metal Forger named Venus Jinsu.”

WestTown was a few hours away from the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit’s peak. If Clare hurried, she could get there in three or four hours.

She repeated the directions in her head and bowed in gratitude.

As they left the forest, the wind swept around them, rustling the leaves. Edgar nodded. “If that’s all you wanted to ask, I’ll take my leave.” Taking a few steps forward, he added with his arms behind his back, “You’ve got a good scythe. Take care of it.” Then, with the wind swirling around him, he vanished without a trace.

Clare let out a deep breath and took the new scythe from her back. With little effort but clear intent, the weapon’s storing effect activated. It split into fragments, wrapping themselves around her wrists like dark red bands. She doubted she would ever get used to the sensation, but appreciated how much lighter she felt.

Satisfied with her visit to the Demonic Armory Vault, Clare took a step in the direction she and Edgar Le Nigel had come from previously, heading back toward the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit’s peak. Beneath her mask of indifference was a quiet sense of accomplishment.

The wind brushed against her face, and her green hair and bushy tails moved rhythmically with the breeze as her feet left the ground and she quickened her pace.

— — — — —

At the top of the rigid peak stood a large shiro, surrounded by dense undergrowth. It had been the residence of the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit for generations and would now house the newly elected graduates of the Institute.

The accommodation was luxurious, with each room spanning 600 square feet and equipped with an advanced cleaning system—vastly different from the smaller, well-kept rooms they had at the Institute or during Seclusion Training. A wide platform for meditation and training extended outside, surrounded by pink-blossom undergrowth. Tall, old trees stood spaced apart, their rich branches and vibrant leaves swaying in the breeze.

Inside, the dining hall resembled the one from the Institute, stirring memories of the days when the graduates earned “Dining Hall Entry Pass Badges” after each trial, only to receive three fist-sized rice balls and two meatballs—meals Clare had once jokingly called “prison food.”

Everything about this place, from the architecture to the facilities, was grander than what they were used to. Yet somehow, the graduates had quickly adapted.

Clare dashed toward the main entrance of the fortress and entered calmly. Graduates, scattered around the hall eating at medium-sized, well-crafted tables, immediately stood when they saw her. The hall was large, dominated by a massive cathedral-like window. They greeted her in unison, “Welcome, Unit Leader.”

She nodded in acknowledgment.

Julie Tao-Yao, known as “NETH,” rose from her seat. “Leader, will you eat?”

“...Not particularly,” Clare replied.

Julie’s face briefly fell before she returned to her seat in the middle of the room. “I’ve decided to host a small feast for the Unit tonight. Will you join us?”

“A feast? Why?” Clare asked.

“We haven’t eaten together since our promotion. I thought it would be nice to celebrate.”

“I see.” Clare paused. Her idea of bureaucracy shifted slightly as she realized that, in her absence, the Second-in-command and Julie Tao-Yao had handled the responsibilities. Clare was in charge of the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit, but she wasn’t the type to hover over her subordinates. It had been the same in her past life as the Heavenly Saintess. Despite being the First Saintess, she rarely meddled in her squad’s affairs, preferring to let them manage themselves unless they were on a group mission.

Apparently, old habits had followed her into this life as well.

She shrugged, accepting this familiar trait of hers. Just as the Second and Ice Saintesses had been the "mother hens" of her squad in her past life, Julie Tao-Yao and Zhan Ruyan now played that role in this one.

Noticing Clare's response—and the shrug for some unknown reason—Julie Tao-Yao asked again, “Will you come, Squad Leader?”

Sighing at how persistent this demon-girl could be, Clare watched Julie as her fluffy tails curled at the tip, mirroring her determination. Relenting, Clare replied, “Alright.”

There were still a few hours before evening—plenty of time to finish what she needed to do.

Clare ascended to her personal quarters on the fifth floor—the highest level of the shiro. Opening the finely crafted door, she glanced around the luxurious room. A comfortable bed sat at the center, surrounded by glowing magical beads. These beads emitted a soft energy that could be adjusted to change the room’s lighting intensity.

She also inspected the cleaning system, which was far superior to anything she’d encountered before. The whole setup was impressive, but for Clare—who had experienced far more luxurious and opulent spaces—it still felt lacking.

But, as usual, material comforts didn’t hold her attention for long. Besides, she had already been satisfied with the residence the Institute had provided after graduation.

Her gaze shifted to the wrapped scythe strapped to her back. Forged from legendary Cold Titanium Steel, it shimmered faintly with frost. Now that she had a superior weapon, there was no need to keep this one.

She decided to melt it down and craft something new.

Clare enjoyed a moment of tranquillity, gazing out from the cathedral-like window of her room. The view was breathtaking, and the gentle breeze brushed across her face. After a few moments, she turned and made her way downstairs to the dining hall.

This time, no one greeted her.

Since greetings had already been exchanged and her agreement to attend the feast had been confirmed, no one paid her any attention as she descended. Everyone continued with their tasks, just as Clare preferred. She believed, after all, that “Life is too long to wait for orders before acting” and “Too short to let someone else decide your path.” Clare nodded to herself, satisfied, she made her way to the exit.

As she made her way out of the hall, only Julie Tao-Yao quietly spoke a few parting words. Clare left the residence, walking toward the edge of the peak. Without hesitation, she leaped into the air, free-falling as the wind rushed past her. It brushed against her indifferent face, her hair and robes billowing as she descended toward West Town, Slum Nine, of the Arrancars.

— — — — —

Free-falling toward the dim base of the peak was smooth and linear at first. The mist shrouding the area below swallowed Clare gradually. It took about thirty minutes at most. A warm yet chilling wind blew past as it spat her out.

Immediately, Clare quickened her descent by tapping her feet against thin air, eager to reach the ground faster. She finally landed in a quiet slum beneath the peak, deep within the Town below. Without hesitation, she leaped toward her destination: the WestTown of Arrancar, Slum Nine.

WestTown was situated at the base of the peak where the Institute of Arrancar stood. It was organized systematically, much like the rest of the Town. But the slums were a different matter entirely.

Clare moved through the Town like a gust of wind, running at breakneck speed. She leaped over obstacles effortlessly, every movement precise and delicate to avoid drawing attention from ordinary Arrancars or anyone with heightened senses. She moved like a shadow, a skilled ninja on a mission. The mist thickened as the sun's rays faded, indicating the day was coming to an end. The Town grew dimmer, illuminated only by the occasional magical beads installed along the streets. The sky, once a dull reddish-yellow with hints of green and cobalt, slowly darkened into a starry night. A full moon hung in the sky, casting an ethereal silver glow that pierced through the mist.

When Clare encountered an impassable route, she adjusted quickly, taking alternate paths. While avoiding the eyes, ears, and instincts of the Arrancars living their everyday lives. It didn’t take long for her to reach WestTown, nestled below the western peak where the Institute stood. After passing through several half-crowded intersections and navigating the streets for three or four hours, she finally arrived in Slum Nine. It was quieter and dingier than the other slums, with fewer hoodlums roaming the area.

"Is this the place?" Clare muttered to herself, absentmindedly twirling one of her curled bangs around her finger as she slowly walked through the slum.

From the Senior Instructor’s description, she expected the forge to be near the entrance. But after walking for a while, she still hadn’t found it. Worse, there was no sign of any Forge, let alone Metal Forger, Venus Jinsu.

Clare sighed, frustration growing. It was difficult to find the forge with only a general direction to go on, and there was no one she could ask.

In the end, she had to search on foot, eventually ending up in an alley on the outskirts of the slum.

"J-just a few slivers…"

"Please..."

"My child is starving. Miss, please…"

If the center of the slum was still a reasonable place to live, this alleyway was the darkness—the gathering spot for beggars, hoodlums, and gangs who terrorized the more peaceful Arrancars.

After all, there’s a saying: "No matter how bright a place is, shadows will always exist."

"Give me everything you—ugh!"

"Caleb Yun—!"

"Damn it! You fox-bitch! How dare you ignore us—!"

Naturally, most of them chose to steal rather than beg, robbing the occasional unfortunate Arrancar who wandered into the alley. Clare found herself face-to-face with four or five hoodlums—demons weren’t recognized as Arrancars or even worthy of becoming Arrancar pawns, they were obviously weak and desperate. Without a word, Clare let out a sigh.

"If you can’t stand living like this, then go up."

She stepped forward and…

“Aghhh!” “Please have mercy!”

“Of course, I’ll have mercy. But don’t think about pulling this stunt on anyone else.”

… with swift, precise movements, Clare broke an arm and a leg from each hoodlum that had attacked her. She had no intention of showing pity, only mercy. Most of these unrecognized demons had remained in the slums out of fear, still haunted by their time at the Institute. They only managed to survive by preying on others, lacking the confidence to overcome the trials. Instead of facing death, they dropped out, never becoming Arrancar pawns, and resorted to stealing.

Mercy was all they would get.

With that, they could redeem themselves if they wanted to. But pity? She had none. Breaking their arms and legs for attacking her was the least she could do. As the Heavenly Saintess, that was all the compassion she could afford them.

Suddenly, a familiar sound rang out—metal striking metal, followed by a rush of fierce heat from somewhere distant, automatically triggering her "Seventh Mind." Her bushy tails stiffened, and her ears twitched as they pinpointed the direction of the sound.

It was coming from quite far away.

Letting go of the last demon’s arm, she turned and set off toward the sound she had been searching for.

As she moved, the rhythmic clang of hammer on steel grew louder, the heat more intense. Clare soon found herself standing in front of a shabby workshop hidden in the depths of a back alley. The forge was small but emitted an intense heat and a steady beat of hammering.

"So this is it," she murmured.

Clare walked toward the workshop, parting the heavy curtains that served as a door, and was hit by a wave of even more intense heat, wrapping around her like a thick blanket. The rhythmic beat of hammering steel echoed through the forge, then abruptly stopped. A new sound took over: the hiss of hot steel plunged into the water. Though the days had grown chilly, the inside of the forge felt hotter than summer. Sweat trickled down her cheek and neck, but she instinctively slowed her breathing to lower her body temperature. The sweating slowed, though a few drops still lingered. Her response had been instinctive but effective.

Only then, did she realize the forge was small, but promising.

"Is there a Metal Forger named Venus Jinsu here?" Clare called out.

The hammering stopped. After a brief pause, an Arrancar appeared from the back.

"Who’s looking for me?"

The Arrancar had a single horn jutting out just above his left temple, with sharp teeth and slightly longer canines protruding from his lips. His pointed ears were also laid back. He was huge, nearly eight feet of sweating muscle. The strange hammer in his hand was unlike the battle hammers of SOATH or Joan Schwargte. It was smaller, but perfectly suited to his massive, tempered physique.

Clare closed her eyes after she took in his size, reminded of the two monsters she had encountered before—Ogre Yu Ziao and Orc Joan, mercenaries she had met during her journey to Lumencis.

Just like his name suggested, this huge Arrancar in a dark apron had yellowish-red skin, a long silver ponytail, and cold, grey eyes.

"Are you Venus Jinsu?" Clare asked, her eyes opened slightly.

The giant nodded. "I’m Venus Jinsu. Why are you looking for me?"

"The 'Elegant Demon' sent me."

The Huge Arrancar scratched the back of his head with the hand that wasn’t holding the hammer. He shook his head, looking puzzled. "There’s more than one Elegant Demon that I know of. Which one are you talking about?”

“The ‘Elegant Demon of Bloody Daggers’.”

At these words, the Metal Forger’s body stiffened, and his expression distorted as if recalling something.

In the Demonic Arrancar Clan, many bore the title "Elegant Demon" because of their fighting style. However, only one was truly special—the "Elegant Demon of Bloody Daggers." This individual was a high-level Arrancar Knight-General, with the potential to be promoted to "Grand Rook" within a decade or so.

“Who... are you?” His tone toward Clare shifted dramatically, solely because of who had introduced her.

“I’m GIMEL, recently promoted to Arrancar Knight-General.”

Venus Jinsu gasped in shock at the Half-breed Nin's achievement. “Leader of the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit!”

Unbeknownst to Clare, she had become an even more famous figure among all the Arrancars. She had expected some recognition, but her rise in fame had been much faster than anticipated. Despite her youth and the fact that she was a Half-breed—a race deeply hated by the Demon Clan—she had already earned the rank of Arrancar Knight-General. Not only that, but she was also the leader of the Soaring Heaven Equal Unit, one of the Thirteen Supporting Units. Her bushy tails wriggled slightly in pride.

Clare nodded, bowing shallowly at Venus Jinsu’s reaction.

“I apologize for my rudeness!” The Metal Forger hastily bowed.

With this, Clare could vividly see the power of the title of Soaring Heaven Equal Unit and the status of the Arrancar Knight/General. It reminded her of when she just become a Saintess of the Central Holy Church in her past life, even without choosing a divine being.

Clare wasn’t satisfied just yet. Of course, this was already high above just being a Half-breed Arrancar. However, it doesn’t change the fact that she had to become stronger, faster, and gain more influence…

Venus Jinsu remained bent at ninety degrees, still bowing since he was a regular Arrancar Viking. Clare sighed and waved her hand.

"Lift your head. I merely visited here today because I have something to ask.”

Venus Jinsu quickly straightened, eyes attentive. “What are you asking for?”

Clare unwrapped her Cold Titanium Steel scythe, faint frost emanating from it, and handed it over. “I heard you’re the Metal Forger who works with Legendary Cold Titanium Steel. Did you make this scythe?”

“Yes, of course. It’s a little different, but it’s definitely my work.”

A Metal Forger capable of handling Legendary Cold Titanium Steel—exactly what Clare needed.

“I would like to melt it down and craft something new. Can you do it?” she asked carefully.

Combatants of various kinds—whether fighters, Saints, Knights, or Assassins—had their pride. Metal Forgers were no different, and Clare knew she was asking something delicate. She was asking the Forger to melt his own creation and make something new.

To emphasize her point, Clare retrieved the Absolute Scythe from its storage space, hidden within the dark red imprint that shimmered faintly. The weapon materialized instantly at her intent.

“This scythe...”

The Metal Forger lifted his head, his voice trembled slightly. His eyes widened as they landed on the weapon in her grasp, his eyes darting between the two.

“…is an incredible masterpiece.”

— — — — —

Absolute Binds of Grim Scythe.

As long as one had eyes, they could see at once how great of a scythe it was. The Metal Forger Venus Jinsu, skilled enough to handle Legendary Cold Titanium Steel, recognized its value instantly.

His eyes shook harder than ever before.

“That’s right. You’ve got a masterpiece of a scythe.” His voice trembled, and so did his shoulders. He understood why Clare didn’t need her scythe.

“Right. I’m trying to make something new.” Clare instinctively retracted the scythe—not to show off but to emphasize her point. Though a sly part of her foxy side did. Her demon and foxy sides were one entity, each acting on its own sometimes.

In simpler terms, she had just shown off her new weapon out of the blue while also emphasizing her point.

At the words of the Nin, the Metal Forger wryly shook his head but perked up immediately. The Nin had said she would melt the legendary Cold Titanium Steel scythe. As a Metal Forger, he still had a chance to show off his skills.

“What are you planning to make?” he asked.

“Some high-grade flexible body armor and assassin darting knives,” Clare replied briefly.

A true Metal Forger yearns to craft a weapon that proves their worth, no matter what. Clare smiled faintly, watching the Forger’s eyes light up at the thought of working with Cold Titanium Steel. She glanced at her new scythe. She didn't know its origins, but it was undoubtedly an ancient top-tier weapon with unique abilities.

Unfortunately, Venus Jinsu, the Metal Forger, wasn't skilled enough to make, melt, or remodel such weapons. That was why he had bowed his head, showing desire and admiration upon seeing the Absolute Binds of Grim Scythe; the value of the two couldn’t be compared. This didn’t mean the Cold Titanium Steel scythe was of poor quality; the Absolute Binds of Grim Scythe was simply far superior.

Still, it wasn’t so bad.

Although Clare had only requested darting knives and flexible body armor, it fueled Venus Jinsu’s determination. He saw another opportunity to showcase his craft. Not every knight learned the way of the sword and chivalry alone; assassins didn’t limit themselves to stealth, daggers, and darting knives. Saints and Saintesses didn't only master holy mana, swordsmanship, and other martial skills while upholding their divine contracts and protecting the common folk. Monsters also didn't train in auras, monsterizations, and diverse weapon skills alone.

Scythe wielders, rare and numbering only one or two in millions, faced unique challenges. They needed to adapt, dealing with enemies that broke through their range—either too far or too close. Clare’s need for darting knives was understandable, but her request for flexible light armor was surprising. It didn’t seem particularly helpful in combat.

However, recent experiences have inspired her. Rushing forward and striking with raw power could cause more damage than anticipated. She needed protection against suffocating, sophisticated attacks, like those from the Fairy Saint. The battle with DALETH, Lee-won Bin, also came to mind. In a fight, the smallest gap in movement could be a turning point. What would a scythe wielder without Clare’s training do if an opponent closed the distance? Wait until death was inevitable? In such a scenario, one could only swing and hope—or be cut down.

Clare smiled, imagining how convenient the flexible light armor would be for both attack and defense. In her past life, she had arrogantly neglected such equipment, confident in her overwhelming power. She clenched her fist tightly, thinking of the inevitable result that led to. She released it with a sigh.

At that moment, Venus Jinsu returned from inside, holding a sleek, silver-polished box roughly five feet long, three feet wide, and two feet high. It gleamed subtly, with intricate engravings for grip and style etched into the metal.

“You haven’t told me when you expect these to be finished,” he said, his eyes eager.

Clare shook her head. “I’ll come find you at the end of next month.”

The Metal Forger nodded, handing her the box. Clare took it and opened it. Inside, it was fitted with compartments: one side lined with soft padding to hold a set of 8-10 inch knives securely, while the other had space for the rolled-up flexible armor robe, adorned with demonic flower embellishments to keep it compact yet easy to deploy.

“If you need them, you can use these as substitutes before I finish your darting knives and flexible light armor,” the Forger explained.

“Thank you,” Clare said, her fingers brushing over the contents. It wasn’t like the Cold Titanium steel gear she ordered, which would exude frost, but these would serve well enough until her custom pieces were ready.