Demonic Kitsune

In the late evening, when the warm breeze had become much cooler, the Senior Instructors summoned the young Arrancars to the Yulin Platform. Clare, cross-legged in her favorite spot under the crimson blossom willow trees, finished her preparation. She equipped her scythes behind her back and began to walk toward the platform.

The other young Arrancars, prepared for what was to come, also began walking toward the platform from their secret spots. Finally, they arrived at the platform. In the middle of the area stood Mei Tai, donned in enticing yet sinister robes, her hair fluttering in the air, and a smile of unknown meaning on her face.

“This is where the Last Trial of Valkyrie-Blitz will be held,” she announced.

The young Arrancars murmured among themselves upon realizing the trial would be held in a Yulin Platform, void of any life-threatening obstacles.

“Only those who keep up, endure, grow, and live are strong. In this very case, only the strong reign supreme at the end. The supreme stands alone, and the weak perish. This is true in any part of Salamander, but especially so in the Clan,” Mei Tai continued. Her voice, effortlessly loud even without Demonic energy, reached the ears of all the young Arrancars present. Clare shook her head in admiration of the Dean of the Institute's talent.

“And those who reign supreme are treated appropriately. If so,” Mei Tai’s red-cherry lips sneered, “aren’t you all curious? Who is the strongest of you all?”

At her words, the young Arrancars looked at each other. Their skills had been accumulated through Seclusion Training, and they had become quite proud of their abilities. Each of them exchanged looks, confident that they were the best.

Mei Tai nodded, satisfied with their behavior. “That’s what we found out in this last trial. We call it the ‘Fight for Poseidon’s Box’.”

A fight for the honor of Poseidon—the Demon God.

“The Poseidon Trial. Make your opponent surrender through your strength, dead or alive. If they don’t surrender,” Mei Tai’s gaze intensified as the Demonic energy stirred around her, “you kill them!” Her gaze returned to normal, along with her Demonic energy, as she continued, “But keep one thing in mind.”

Mei Tai’s words made the young Arrancars’ hearts race. Some couldn’t contain themselves and shouted, “Only the weak must die. The supreme shall be the one living, a winner and a loser on this platform!”

“That’s right,” Mei Tai added proudly, slowly descending from the platform to the grand stage. “To the one who survives until the end, we’ll forge a weapon from Legendary Cold Titanium Steel. If you desire it, do not lose.” Her lips curled into a smile.

After her speech, the other instructors, the Assistant Dean, and Edgar Le Nigel sat on grand seats on the stage, ready for the trial to begin. The young Arrancars flexed their weapons. Some cultivated the little they could in anticipation of the trial, while others sat meditating. Clare did the same.

As the dull reddish-yellow sky, tinged with hints of green and cobalt, gradually gave way to a starry night, the sun faded on the horizon. The full moon hung on one side, casting an ethereal silver glow over everything. 

The Last Trial began.

— — — — — 

As the breeze fluttered everything in its path, tension hung on every young Arrancar’s heart in anticipation of the reward the Dean had mentioned. Contrary to their worries, unlike the previous Valkyrie-Blitz Trial or the Institute of Arrancars’ other trials, this last trial was simple.

The single-horned white-haired Instructor, acting as a referee, would call two young Arrancars forward to fight. The winners and losers would then be split into groups and fight again. This would repeat until there was one final winner. 

The techniques of the young Arrancars on the platform burst forth in the silent yet picturesque night. All were young Arrancars who had survived the Institute. None had half-baked skills. The trainees were serious because the winner would gain both the honor of the Demon God Poseidon and their desire fulfilled.

Even in such an atmosphere, Clare thought differently. Who cared about this shallow honor of the Demon God Poseidon? She would be lying if she said she had no ambition, but she never believed in any gods in her previous life or the one before that. The last person standing would receive the prize. She moistened her lips with a swipe of her tongue.

Legendary Cold Titanium Steel had greater value than Titanium Steel, Alloy Steel, and Steel itself. It was even rarer than Platinum or Uranium. Naturally, greed would arise. This type had a cold stemming from every nook and cranny when melted and could be made into a beautiful weapon that was stronger than ordinary Titanium steel. Even if it wasn’t for the weapon, Clare planned to defeat them all. Pride from her previous life would not allow her to lose.

“Named: GID and Named: GIMEL!” the demonic referee declared.

At the summons, Clare went up to the platform, as did the other named GID. The moment one stepped onto the platform, the duel began.

“Begin the Duel.”

At the announcement of the demonic referee, Clare slowly moved forward, looking at the face of GID, who shared the same first letter as her. She didn’t recognize him, so perhaps he wasn’t from the other platforms.

With purplish hair like the vast plains of eerily purplish grass, a horn protruding from his forehead, and a face filled with vigor fit his age, GID smiled after hearing Clare’s ranking. He believed his opponent was akin to a free win.

GID could not sense her Demonic energy or any bodily responses. Moreover, their “Arrancar names” represented their ranking in talent and strength. GIMEL was essentially dead last, on par with AIN, who had already died in the first test of the Institute. 

Of course, this ranking wasn’t absolute, and GID knew that well. However, there is a saying: “No matter how one struggles through all hardship, heaven and earth tribulations, and near-death experiences, one can only go beyond their predestined level. But no one dares defy the skies to overcome natural talent, genius, and prodigy. No one is monstrous enough.”

GID hadn’t met anyone who could show skills far beyond their rank. Currently, there was a large gap between him and his opponent, even more so because she was a half-breed. He believed it would be an easy victory.

“Why don’t you surrender now, and I’ll make your death painless!” GID declared to the slowly approaching GIMEL. Perhaps it was supposed to be a mercy only a Demon could give or a provocation, but it showed he had not judged GIMEL’s level very well.

The young Arrancars on another platform, who remembered GIMEL’s face, swallowed their saliva and shivered in the chilly breeze. This was the Half-breed bitch in the rumors who shock all the Senior Instructors on their various platforms. She had started as the most pathetic and least talented GIMEL and showed overwhelming accomplishment by beating almost the entirety of the Yulin Platform. They knew in their hearts that GID was indeed looking for his death.

“Did you not hear me? I said I would at least kill you painlessly if you surrender now,” GID provoked further.

“I did hear you quite well. But don’t you seem to overestimate yourself,” Clare—GIMEL, replied.

As GID shuddered in disgust at her words, Clare vanished amidst the billowing breeze. What happened next was unfathomable. Frenzied movements spilled out from her body as her white scythe hung in the air, its curved blade reflecting the moon’s soft glow.

GID’s horn tingled as his senses whispered caution. Something dangerous was impending, but he could only see a blurry image. Startled, he instinctively lifted his Demonic energy-imbued chains, wrapping both his meaty hands around them. Both shockwaves dispersed the air, and sparks formed as their weapons collided. 

GID was immediately pushed backward, and Clare chased him again, swinging the scythe from sky to earth. GID gripped the demonic energy-imbued chain with fierce intensity, his knuckles white with effort. With a swift, powerful motion, he swung in a wide arc from the left side, the air crackling with dark energy and leaving a trail of malevolent sparks in its wake.

No matter how sinister and powerful GID’s attack was, the scythe’s curved blade not only repelled the Demonic energy but cut through the chain with profound strength. Simultaneously, Clare redirected the scythe’s blade. 

GID’s senses tingled with danger. In an attempt to block the impending attack, he realized something was wrong. The attack stopped. Even his senses stopped tingling. Could GIMEL stop the attack halfway? No way. Could it be a feint? But from which direction? 

As he pondered, his senses, which had stopped ringing, suddenly went on high alert. He turned his head toward the direction of the danger, but regretfully, all he saw for a split second was an impending fist. Before he could gather his thoughts and react, “Huh?” was the last thing he uttered as his face was bombarded by punches. 

And in the next minute, his body landed on the ground with a loud thud, with the scythe’s curved blade at his neck, reflecting death and the moon’s soft glow.

Clare asked, “Will you surrender and let me win, or will you choose the latter?”

At the mention of “latter,” Clare wrapped herself in Mana of Fossilization and extreme Bloodlust. GID murmured his answer, his limbs trembling like aspen branches. He couldn’t do shit in this situation, but he wouldn’t beg for mercy. He knew if he stubbornly refused to surrender, he would be tortured to death. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have underestimated GIMEL. Yet, she showed him mercy other Demons lacked. Only one thing remained for him to do.

“Hah, I surrender,” GID declared, turning his face away in embarrassment.

Letting out a deep breath, Clare retracted the scythe. Like that, she had her first victory.

“The match is decided. Named: GIMEL won,” the demonic referee announced.

Hence, the duels continued. Some won, some lost, and some died. Despite the brutal circumstances, a few continued with overwhelming victories.

CHETH wielded gauntlets, defeating opponents with a barrage of punches without using demonic energy. DALETH used dual axes, moving faster than anyone else, causing his opponents to lose limbs or be sliced in two before they could surrender. In other words, he left death in his wake. Next was Clare. She knocked down her opponents without using energy or advanced techniques. Her ability was so great that she didn’t need to reveal her true power to defeat others.

Clare noticed Noir—SETH's strength and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Previously, Clare had only been using the basics of her fighting style, but SETH's movements were so precise that even if her opponents didn’t surrender and were killed, she didn’t have a drop of blood on her broadsword or robes. 

After watching the matches, Clare was now confident in winning against CHETH and DALETH without removing a single one of her bracers. However, to win against Noir—GIMEL, she would need to use advanced techniques or a bit of "Ancient Text" prowess. Her eyes gradually hardened.

“Without further ado, let’s begin the last match. Named: VEDO and Named: XIN,” announced the demonic referee.

At this grand announcement, the duels continued. During this duel, more than twenty young Arrancars died. The Institute of Arrancars, which had started with a thousand young Arrancars at each platform, now had fewer than seventy-seven left.

Finally, only four young Arrancars remained on the platform. Clare identified the faces of the other survivors and confirmed her predictions: CHETH, DALETH, SETH, and herself. Only two more fights would determine the final winner.

“Named: CHETH and Named: GIMEL. Come forward!” the demonic referee announced.

Clare went up to the platform with an indifferent face, while CHETH couldn't hide his hostility. He flexed his waist and fingers within his gauntlets, pointing his fist at Clare, feeling humiliated by her nonchalant demeanor.

Seeing how a “brat like this would be an outrage on how a gramps like her was calm as a serene lake and tranquil as the wind,” made Clare chuckle, unable to keep her mask of indifference. In response, CHETH released a profound, dense demonic energy that he hadn’t shown against his previous opponents.

“No one in Yunhai Platform looked down on me. That should remain the same here.”

Clare sighed. “Of course, because you’re strong, but…” Her words trailed off as she curled her white scythe from left to right, creating a large arc. She was flexing, summoning. Inside her, a turbulent stream of demonic energy—not Asura energy nor Holy energy—began to circulate.

“You’ve no idea how vast Salamander is,” she continued. Clare moved casually, her light feet making her seem like a precious "Aeon Tree"—a demonic jade tree. As the breeze tickled her skin, relieving her tension, the air trembled as she approached. CHETH prepared to move, but Clare’s movements were faster. Her scythe unfolded its basic techniques, wild like an impending storm.

CHETH coated his arms in dense demonic energy, solid yet liquid-like quicksand, and blocked her first strike, swinging his fists back. The sharp gauntlets collided with the scythe which tore through the air, emanating sparks and shockwaves from all sides. 

Clare’s bushy tails tensed and curved, forming a rhythm as her scythe sliced through the air in quick succession. CHETH threw punches fused with demonic energy, matching Clare’s power and speed. Blasts echoed in the silent night, tension filling the atmosphere.

As they exchanged blows, they seemed evenly matched. Scythe against gauntlets, each utilizing cunning tactics. They countered each other and manipulated their demonic energy with full force. At least, that’s what anyone watching would think.

However, Clare thought otherwise. “I may acknowledge you if I were to lie, but honestly, someone like you is nothing special in Salamander. If you don’t want to be looked down on, try a few more years in seclusion training.”

Without any arrogance or underestimation in her tone, Clare suddenly started to move faster, tightening her grip and changing momentum. Her eyes glinted with a dark purplish hue. Her scythe moved faster, its curved blade like a conch shell. 

CHETH’s body flew out.

The second basic technique of scythe-manship, “The Stabbing,” unfolded with a blast. 

But this was no ordinary blast.

‘Heaven piercing down the underworld.’

It was a long-assed name for the improved second basics of her scythe-manship. Regardless, Clare stabbed from above, blasting down with ferocity fused with dense, twisting demonic energy. 

The heavens' tribulation sparkled and pierced the earth, leaving only devastation in its wake. 

The platform shook on its axis.

— — — — — 

Sharp, rigid coughs erupted from the spectators as dust and shrapnel scattered into the air amidst the loud shockwave. They waited impatiently as GIMEL’s opponent flew to the other side of the platform, smashing into a thick tree and knocking it down with a loud thud.

Alas, they waited in vain.

Previously ranked CHETH, the first and best for talent, Zhan Ruyan, had fainted and couldn’t stand up. Clare shifted her gaze from the spot where her opponent had landed, to the blast and destruction he caused, to the Demonic referee who was in charge of the duel.

“Duel concluded. Named: GIMEL wins.”

At the grand announcement of the Demonic referee, Clare sighed, flexing her hand. If not for her Seclusion Training, she wouldn’t have tried out this improved technique due to her inadequate physique. In any case, she could handle the drawbacks well. Finishing her contemplation, she walked back to her spot outside the platform.

Watching her back, Mei Tai deepened in thought. She wished her tea was close to relieve stress, but regretfully, it wasn’t. Observing the match of GIMEL against CHETH from the Yunhai platform, particularly the technique that the half-breed Nin used, Mei Tai muttered, “The ‘Heavenly Tribulation Technique’ with a scythe…”

As the name implies, an abysmal hole intertwined with cracks trailed at the point where GIMEL’s scythe landed.

Even though it wasn’t originally a Demonic technique, it became one and even surpassed many others of its kind. Mei Tai had never imagined the successor of the “First Scythe Knight” would come from the Institute of Arrancars. Of course, she did read about it in the Demonic Treasure Vault at some point, but it was bothersome to delve into the full history. All in all, it was quite a basic yet sinister technique. Perhaps Clare would become the rear wave of the Turbid Wave and sweep through the Clan. Somehow, Mei Tai felt her heart beating in her bouncing chest.

Clare had ensured her spot in the finals. She thought she would barely make it as an Arrancar Viking. Honestly, Clare felt lucky to have met CHETH at this time. She was glad she wouldn’t have to fight seriously twice in a row.

“Next up, Named: SETH and Named: DALETH. Come on the platform!”

After the announcement of the Demonic referee, SETH glanced at GIMEL—who turned her face away—with a faint smile, before walking toward the platform. The same went for DALETH. 

And like that, the second match between SETH and DALETH started.

Among them, the winner would fight against Clare in the finals. Clare returned to her spot with a sigh and watched the two carefully. If either side was hiding their real strengths, it wouldn’t be easy to beat them.

Despite the current exchanges of thirty seconds, no one had gained the advantage. Broadsword clashed with dual axes, and shockwaves filled with shrapnel and dust burst forth with upcurrents. Countless skills were shown as each tried to drag the other down, causing tatters to appear on their robes. 

Sweat ran down their delicate cheeks to their necks.

Both the other young Arrancars and the senior instructors held their breaths. It was clear that Arrancar Viking-level fights, which dispersed sparks, shrapnel, blasts, and dust into the air, proved that they were skilled.

SETH began to exude an air of bad vibe and a weird wide smile, indicating she was going to win. It was only Mei Tai, the senior instructors, and Assistant Dean Edgar Le Nigel who believed this for sure. DALETH had the conviction that he would be the winner and eventually became impatient, leaving openings. 

On the other hand, SETH remained steady and didn’t reveal her high-level techniques, only letting the sinister vibe intimidate her opponent. Additionally, there was a crucial difference in their breathing. While DALETH’s was rough, SETH’s was steady.

It would probably take another dozen minutes. Clare calmly assessed the situation, and her judgment proved to be correct. After three more minutes, SETH finally showed her fangs.

“Blood Demonic Heart Technique…” Clare muttered in shock to herself. 

SETH had shown it for just a moment as currents of reddish-purple-dark hue energy erupted from her body, but Clare had clearly seen it. It was a short reveal of what was called a unique energy: a fusion of one’s blood, bloodlust, and faith with Demonic Energy Manifestation.

In other words, the Heavens—Faith, Blood—Earth, and Mind—Bloodlust. If what Clare read about it in the Demonic Treasure Vault and realized from the Demon's Generals she fought in her past life were true, then it was a reddish-purple-dark streak of light that turned into twenty-four sword movements and combined back into one dot. A supreme sword formation that collects all sword movements into one powerful move that explodes through and can be used as an attack or defense.

As soon as she saw it, Clare knew SETH’s full name. She realized why SETH couldn’t tell Clare her last name.

Noir Gu.

Clare’s eyes widened. Why hadn’t she said her last name before? “Gu” was the most noble and villainous last name, only one person in the Demon Clan had it.

The first name of the First Ancestor of the Demon Clan and Contractee of the Demon God. Anyone with this last name means she was the direct descendant of the Demoness, Yue Mingkong Gu.

Clare looked surprised and glanced at the senior instructors seated on the grand stage, illuminated by the soft glow of the full moon. They nodded as if it was natural. It seemed that they already knew SETH had the direct bloodline of the Demon Clan.

The Sword Art of the Demoness was inside the Institute of Arrancars. Clare’s eyes were deeper than ever as her fighting spirit surged.

Meanwhile, SETH had overwhelmed DALETH with an even wider creepy smile and narrowed eyes. It had taken about ten minutes, as Clare had guessed.

How unexpectedly amazing.

Clare put a hand to her chest. Her heart, which had been unfathomably calm and steady, was pounding hard for a win. All her past lives felt the desire to compete instead of fear or terror of the direct descendant of the Demon God.

The duel between DALETH and SETH was passionately terrifying. They struck like lightning, leaving devastating cracks and blasts in their wake. Especially SETH’s final attack that knocked up shrapnel and dust in the air, leaving DALETH beaten and fainted from internal injuries.

“Next up, Named: SETH and Named: GIMEL. Come on the Platform!” the demonic referee announced.

This duel wasn't just a confrontation between those who were Arrancar Viking-level in name, but between those who had truly earned that status.

Clare gripped her white scythe tightly and wielded it as her feet parted ways with the cold, cracked ground. SETH’s broadsword seemed to twirl and thaw the air itself, bending the defensive sword movements and blocking Clare’s scythe.

An explosion ensued, scattering dust into the air. They were simultaneously pushed back. They crossed weapons again quickly. Clare could feel her scythe trembling with intertwining cracks.

So, this is the Origin of the Demoness.

SETH was strong enough without using the Sword Art of the Demoness, but Clare wanted to see the strength of the “Blood Demonic Heart Technique.” She wondered if SETH could still use it, though.

The "Blood Demonic Heart Technique" is an heirloom of the Demon Clan, but SETH’s body doesn’t have a strong enough physique to handle the strain and drawbacks of fully utilizing it. It seemed SETH could only use it for a short period.

Clare stepped back against the storm of attacks that kept increasing the impacts on her scythe at a single point. She then advanced with renewed vigor. A few broadsword swirling currents rushed towards her, which Clare countered with Mana of Fossilization that settled like water on churning firewood. Steam rushed past her on both sides as her fluffy tails swerved in relief. Each collision between them caused waves of different energy spectrums, shaking the platform.

However, SETH still hadn’t used the “Blood Demonic Heart Technique” of the “Sword Art of the Demoness.” Clare guessed, perhaps from SETH's gentle yet creepy smile, that she wanted to test Clare’s sincerity in battle. With that conclusion in mind, Clare pressed her feet against the ground with great force and wielded the scythe tightly. She pushed SETH, swinging down a crescent arc with vigor before slowly gathering her energy.

Though it wasn’t enough to make her use “Asura energy” or any advanced techniques, Clare was willing to show her the last. The wind blew, and her fluffy ears and tails tingled as the cracks on the platform extended in all directions where her feet moved. 

The scythe in Clare’s hands moved with elegance, accuracy, and violence, like a coordinated opera performance under the crescent moonlight. Her muscles, heartbeat, breathing, and blood flow followed a similar rhythm. It became more evident as she made forty-five unpredictable impacts, stirring the air, aimed at SETH, ready to turn her to dust or render her injured.

SETH’s gentle, creepy smile broadened as if she was ready to stir up the “Blood Demonic Heart Technique” of the “Sword Art of the Demoness.” Her squinted eyes glowed with a faint reddish-purple-dark hue. Before she could get serious, she shouted shamelessly, using the shockwaves to disperse the impending attacks into grey steam that only tickled the skin.“Hah, I can’t beat her. I surrender!” She leaped back.

‘Would you look at that?’ Clare thought briefly as a chill tension tickled her ears and her tails stiffened at the hideous scene. A gush of steam ensued. Externally, Clare faltered at SETH’s words, her lips twitching with annoyance. This was a good chance for her to compete, and she didn’t want to miss it.

SETH, with a faint smile, shrugged her shoulders when she realized Clare’s look. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t play to that extent with someone I like.”

In other words, if she proceeded further, her opponent would end up either dead or close to it. Against DALEITH, she only used it for a few minutes at most. 

“...Moreover, my physique isn’t sufficient, and it seems you know that,” she added.

“What made you think so?”

SETH shook her head and closed her eyes, refusing to speak anymore. Yet, as a fox with a keen sense of smell, Clare detected the faint scent of blood as SETH spoke. Blood flowed from the corner of her mouth, likely from deflecting Clare’s earlier psychological impacts with her shout or from using the “Blood Demonic Heart Technique” against DALEITH. Either way, her demonic energy had likely been sealed to conceal her true strength, either by herself or someone else. But Clare found it strange that SETH didn’t want to continue the fight because she somewhat liked her. Clare waved off those words as a slip of the tongue.

Fighting SETH would not have confirmed the true strength of the “Sword Art of the Demonic Technique.” Winning and taking the Legendary Cold Titanium Steel to replace her cracked white scythe was enough for Clare.

“Is that so? You don’t say.”

Clare dissolved the energy she had raised to the maximum and pulled back her cracked scythe as pieces fell slowly.

As Clare accepted her surrender, SETH chuckled weirdly yet gently. “You need to buy me dinner sometime in the future, okay?”

Clare scoffed. “What a wild imagination you got there, SETH.” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, warning SETH to do the same and train more to get her physique sufficient.

SETH, listening, descended from the platform and continued to laugh as bad vibes began to stem around her as her obsession peaked. “...If I can’t have you, nobody can. GIMEL.”

Noticing this expression, Clare’s instincts pinched her, warning that this demon girl was obsessively awkward and sick in the head. Her bushy tails tensed up, whispering that this demon girl had never changed in many years. Clare could relate.

It was as if she was obsessed with her. Clare shook her head in denial. That would be impossible. In any case, she didn’t dignify it with a reply. In the end, the demonic referee shouted.

“The winner of the ‘Fight for Poseidon’s Box,’ champion of the Institute of Arrancars, is GIMEL!”

The demonic referee turned to GIMEL. “Congratulations.” before walking away. 

“I was just super lucky,” GIMEL replied.

Mei Tai’s mouth twitched as she watched GIMEL accept the congratulatory remarks. Her eyes turned to GIMEL’s wrists and ankles, where her bracers remained intact. Mei Tai’s lips moved.

“Luck, huh…? Perhaps, or maybe not.”

She stood up from her seat and came forward onto the grand stage.

Clare’s “Seventh Mind” automatically activated as her eyes briefly met those of the Dean of the Institute. She made no comments and ignored it.

“GIMEL, when the Institute started, you were one of the weakest, only above AIN, who unfortunately died as a weakling. So be proud of yourself. In the history of the Institute of Arrancars, no champion has started from the lowest of the low with a name as unassuming as GIMEL. The highest was maybe GIN or SHARK.”

GIMEL listened quietly to Mei Tai, who continued to speak without caring for others’ responses.

“But despite that fact, you setting a new record can only mean two things…” Mei Tai's words trailed off as she observed GIMEL, whose eyes were clear, reflecting the soft ethereal glow of the full moon.

“... You either have something that we don’t know, or your wisdom surpasses your potential. Which one do you think it is?” Mei Tai asked. 

GIMEL shook her head. “None of the above.”

Did she like GIMEL’s answer? Mei Tai didn’t show it on her face. Instead, she put her hand inside her sleeve and removed a frost lump of Legendary Cold Titanium Steel.

“If you want to replace that cracked white weapon of yours, tell the Senior Instructor. Since you use a scythe, we’ll forge the shape you want with this sixty-year-old Legendary Cold Titanium Steel.”

When she finished talking, Mei Tai put the freezing steel back into her sleeve. It would only come into GIMEL’s hands once it was a complete weapon.

“You may go back.”

Mei Tai sent GIMEL back and slowly walked across the grand stage, looking around. Each survivor made eye contact.

“Everyone has worked hard. Only a fraction of you survived, but I’m glad that only the strong and real ones survived.” She paused, then continued, “But did you know? The Institute of Arrancars has been extended by seven months.”

The Institute of Arrancars has already lasted over ten years because they are different specimens of elites, unlike previous generations. After all, as the saying goes, “To cook delicious food, a considerable amount of time is needed.”

It had only been a lot more than ten years at this point. At this, the young Arrancars groaned but were silenced just as quickly.

“For the rest of the time, you’ll face the Final Trial of the Institute of Arrancars. And this Final…” Mei Tai laughed viciously as her gaze glinted intensely.

… Just as she said with demonic intense energy that trembled the silent and cold night like magma, the training wasn’t over yet.