Demonic Kitsune

“Hu…”

Clare, like a sudden gust of wind that appeared out of nowhere and disturbed everything in its path, reached the hideout of the Clan in Lumencis in no time. Unlike the hideout in Meria De Cuma, Lumencis neither hid its true nature nor exposed it too obviously. However, any Arrancars, whether young or old, could easily tell it was indeed a hideout of the Demon Clan.

As Clare approached, two Arrancar guards by the wall of the array formation noticed her. They had grey hair cascading down over the curved horns protruding from the centers of their foreheads. Their muscular physiques made them appear formidable. Perhaps it was her appearance, the weather, or simply their occupation, but they were immediately on edge, making Clare sigh. As soon as they saw her, their hands moved to the hilts of their weapons—dual light double-edged swords and a Jian wrapped around their wrists over their double-layered robes.

"Who dares approach?" they demanded, their voices laced with hostility. 

Their intimidating grey eyes, which held a hint of demonic energy, were meant to frighten anyone who dared come close. For most, this would be enough to cause shivers and prompt a hasty retreat. A normal wandering demon or monster might have faltered. Even an Arrancar with a motive would likely respond with firm words or present a bronze badge to state their purpose. But Clare was beyond all that. Their intimidation only made her chuckle; she wasn’t offended in the least.

Understanding their instinctive reasoning, Clare found the situation more amusing than disrespectful. After all, anyone who approached within ten meters would naturally arouse suspicion, especially someone with both monster and demon bloodlines—and as young as herself. Even if the guards had acted, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against her. So, she simply shrugged it off and tossed her bronze badge to one of the guards that identified her as a Half-breed Nin.

One of the guards caught the badge with both hands. Glancing at it, she read the deeply imprinted words: "Αρράνκαρ Βίκινγκ." She flinched, possibly out of fear, shock, and disbelief that such a young Half-breed Nin could be an Arrancar Viking. The other guard, equally stunned, cross-checked with his companion, his eyes wide in awe. It was true—this young Nin in front of them was indeed an Arrancar Viking.

Acting up against a higher-ranked official was a terrible crime, one that could easily cost someone their life. The guards knew this all too well. Their mistake in failing to recognize her filled them with dread. They deserved death, not a painless one, but a torturous, agonizing end. At least, that was what raced through their minds as they began to sweat profusely. Clare, however, wasn’t thinking along those lines. Instead, she wondered if she was lucky that someone recognized her today. The other day it had been a snow spider and its gangs, and a few hours ago, a group of monster mercenaries with a succubus clinging to her like a bug. Of course, she didn’t mind it too much, but still...

While Clare was lost in thought, a third Arrancar guard—bulkier than the others—returned, possibly from answering nature’s call. Noticing the seemingly arrogant Half-breed Nin in front of the other guards, he didn’t pay attention to their changed demeanor.

“Hey! You disrespectful Nin! How dare you throw your badge like that, no matter how low your status is!” he barked.

At that moment, the female Arrancar guard’s legs gave out. She collapsed to the ground in complete shock, prepared to die. The first guard cried out with an “Ah!” in realization.

The bulkier guard, still confused, asked, “What’s wrong with both of you?” He looked at his companions’ panicked expressions with bewilderment.

The guard holding the bronze badge awkwardly walked over to Clare and handed it back to her respectfully, still shaking. Clare smiled kindly as she accepted the badge. Though her smile wasn’t unkind, the bulkier guard interpreted it as mocking. However, it was her own fault for absentmindedly tossing the badge in the first place. Clare let out a deep breath. “I heard the First Elite Arrancars Group is supposed to gather here, no?”

At this point, it seemed the stormy wave that should have ended their lives had miraculously passed them by. It was rare, almost impossible, but they were glad. With a complete change in attitude, the female Arrancar guard mustered the courage and mental fortitude to bow deeply alongside the first guard, welcoming Clare into the array formation.

“All First Elite Arrancars Group members are on standby. Please follow me,” the female guard said, nodding slightly to the first guard as if to inform him of how close they had come to death. The first guard nervously nodded back as the veil of the dark, transparent array formation swallowed both the female guard and Clare, leading the way into the inner hideout area.

Meanwhile, the third Arrancar guard mirrored Clare’s actions, partly out of habit and partly due to the look on his companions’ faces. He could no longer hold back his curiosity once the Half-breed Nin was out of hearing range.

“Hey, who is that brat?”

“Shut up!” his companion snapped, nervously clenching his fist and glancing at Clare’s retreating figure. “You idiot! She’s just like Bubura Gaston, the base Steward we serve. That was an Arrancar Viking!”

The bulkier guard’s face wrinkled in dumbfounded disbelief. He couldn’t have imagined it in a billion years. He had nearly sent both himself and his companions to the pit of the netherworld without even realizing it.

As Clare walked along the well-tiled roads, she admired her surroundings. The roads were clean and bustling with activity. She observed monsters and demons of different origins, skin hues, and characteristics. She noticed that many of them were chained combatants. Their ranks were likely one-chained at most, and pseudo-chained at least, making them of little use to the Clan.

With everyone around tied to the Clan like spider webs through either membership, treaties, or indirect allegiance as followers, believers, or admirers, Clare did not need to hide her identity as an Arrancar Viking or put on any pretense. In fact, if she were less loyal to the Clan, she could have staged a rebellion and taken over the hideout.

Lumencis was a much more militarized base than Meria De Cuma, which was so remote that it was almost solely used for scouting and intel purposes. This could be seen in the way the base doubled as a "Salmon's Inn," where the base Steward couldn’t be considered an "Arrancar Knight or General."

On the other hand, Lumencis housed relatively famed Arrancar Knights/Generals leading whole divisions of officials, independent Clans, and groups that resided within. The base was well-organized and operated on the outskirts, hidden by a dark, transparent veil array formation, yet guarded by Arrancar guards with sharp instincts and judgment. However, a few Arrancar guards who had been here for a while and had become drunk on the little power they wielded were less vigilant.

“Miss, please this way.” 

The female Arrancar guard led Clare firmly and carefully to the inner base area, where they were once again swallowed by a distorted, misty space in a corner alley. By now, Clare had seen enough of these strange occurrences that surprise no longer came easily. She simply nodded and stepped forward.

The inner base area resembled a highly structured shiro—a fortress stacked upon another—but in miniature compared to the Institute's vast scale. Beyond it, the guard stepped aside, allowing Clare to follow. A gust of wind surged like a turbulent wave, overwhelming them. The guard firmly planted her feet on the ground and braced herself for the intensity, but for Clare, it was merely a breeze tickling against her skin.

What unfolded next was unexpected.

Beneath a cloudy sky lay a forest teeming with life, its lush vegetation reminiscent of the Erebus Hell Grass Field, though smaller and less imposing. The greenery was vibrant and refreshing, with the wind rustling through the leaves, producing a soft, soothing sound. A smile tugged at Clare’s lips, and she felt the urge to lie down leisurely and read some literature under a tree. The stress from everything she had endured today seemed to melt away, showcasing just how relaxing this place was.

At least, that was how she felt for a while before the presence of someone familiar caught her attention. Her once-relaxed tails tensed up in alarm.

“Hm…”

The female Arrancar guard bowed and left. Clare turned toward the presence, spotting an adult-looking Arrancar seated comfortably on a sturdy branch of a tall tree, his gauntlets in hand. He exuded an air of harmony and tranquility.

He appeared young, perhaps in his twenties, with a single horn jutting from his reddish forehead. His physique was tall and well-built, marked by scars and a mane of flaming-red, unkempt hair that fell with a certain attitude.

Even with his eyes closed, his appearance was imposing. Clare recognized him instantly; he was someone she had encountered before and now awaited her.

“You made it.”  The young Arrancar opened his deep red eyes, their blood-like hue carrying a hint of awkwardness that could be interpreted in different ways. Yet, he seemed pleased to see the Half-breed Nin below him. Clare knew him well—after all, she had bested him before.

“Right. It’s been a while, Zhan Ruyan. Or should I say CHETH.” she said, looking up as their eyes met.

— — — — — 

In all honesty, Clare felt somewhat awkward too. With a strange mix of emotions, she greeted the elite who had once been CHETH, the top talent in the Institute of Arrancars.

Back then, Clare hadn’t just knocked him into a thick tree, smashing it down with the second basic technique of her scythe-manship. She had also left him faint and unable to stand during the "Poseidon Trial: Fight for Poseidon's Box,” the last Trial of the Valkyrie-Blitz Trial, but not the final. While everyone understood the concept of ‘survival of the fittest’ and ‘winner takes all,’ there were still people like SOATH who held a serious grudge.

Now, with Zhan Ruyan—CHETH—set to become her second-in-command, she hoped everything would be just “thunder and lightning within the storm.”

She really, really hoped so. Though she felt this way inside, her face remained indifferent and calm, like an autumn river.

Thankfully, Zhan Ruyan seemed to share her thoughts. He was actually beaming as he welcomed her. “It’s an honor to see you safe, Squad Leader!” he called out, leaping down and forming a hideous crater in the leafy ground—though he clearly controlled his strength.

As the strongest in the Institute of Arrancar, Clare had been tasked with leading the group mission, becoming the Squad Leader for the First Young Arrancar Group. Since Zhan Ruyan had the power to lead his own group, their mission seemed poised to be a difficult challenge.

Clare, as always, turned her face away and walked past him—but later, a faint smile touched her lips. Sensing this, CHETH smiled too.

Observing him further, Clare noticed a few changes since their last duel. It seemed he had been through a lot since then. He was much more humble than he had been during the "Poseidon Trial: Fight for Poseidon's Box."

Clare realized that Zhan Ruyan’s appearance signaled the successful completion of his individual mission, which seemed to have broadened his view of the world. Knowing the difficulty of the missions assigned and her own strength, she was sure that everyone else had been given relatively challenging missions as well.

Even for her, subjugating a Clan like the FrostAvalanche Clan by herself hadn’t been easy. As they could now be considered friends—or at least allies—Clare was glad to see that Zhan Ruyan had learned a lot during his journey in the real world of Salamander.

Deep in thought, Clare walked through the forest toward the shiro in the distance, with CHETH following closely. She turned her head to look at the well-tiled platform, which was quite different from the one at Yulin Platform. It lacked a grand stage and instead featured a greenish, not-so-tall tree with short branches, fluttering in the breeze.

It was a suitable place to relax, contemplate, and perhaps hold a meeting while sitting on the soft, abundant grass growing under the tree's twisted trunk. In this spot, numerous other young Arrancars were gathered around, waiting for her.

“Who would have thought I’d be the last to arrive,” Clare mused.

As soon as the young Arrancars saw that GIMEL—Clare—had acknowledged their presence, they stood up and lined up in front of her, with Zhan Ruyan—CHETH—leading them. They bowed and greeted her in unison, their voices synchronized.

“First Young Arrancar Group, reporting for duty, Squad Leader!”

Sighing, Clare felt the wind ripple through everything in its path, scattering leaves into the air and letting the formal greetings of the young Arrancars echo in her ears. It was a familiar déjà vu, reminding her of when she graduated top of her class in the Holy Academy as a Cadet, earning the title of First Saintess.

Mixed emotions filled her heart as she emerged from the vivid memory. She nodded in response to their actions, understanding that this formality was required in both lives—but something felt different, though she couldn’t pinpoint what. Still, she allowed herself a moment of pride. This was a step toward gathering power, influence, and authority in the Clan—a step toward revenge.

For their journey through the Salamander continent, the young Arrancars from the Institute had been divided into four groups: the First Squad, Second Squad, Third Squad, and Fourth Squad. Although these divisions were said to be temporary, they received missions much like the actual forces of the Clan.

As Clare was the strongest in the Institute, she was commissioned to command the First Young Arrancar Group.

“I’m glad to see that all of you survived the first mission and learned from it—I did too,” she said, waving her hand to motion for them to stop. “But why are you all here and not waiting inside?”

There were only a little over twenty of them, so there was no reason the base couldn’t have allocated some rooms for them to stay in. If they had been random members of the Clan, it might have been understandable to take shelter in the forest, despite the demonic insects lurking about. But the First Group was here on a mission from the Demonic Arrancar Clan itself... Just as Clare was about to finish her thought, someone interrupted her, cutting through the windy air with a hint of demonic energy.

“It was I who declined their permission to enter,” Zhan Ruyan answered. “We’re about to take on an important mission, and we shouldn’t let our guard down by over-relaxing.”

Clare was surprised, at least for a moment, as her bushy tails swayed slightly without anyone noticing. She soon let out an amused huff. “Not bad.”

It seemed CHETH wasn’t just a musclehead after all—he did have a brain. Not that Clare ever said he was a musclehead, though.

“Hehe,” Zhan Ruyan grinned, clearly proud of himself. Using his brain a bit more did have its advantages.

However, his pride didn’t last long, as Clare only sneered and turned to the rest of the group members. “However!”

It was unexpected that GIMEL wouldn’t let him off that easily, instead pouring cold water over Zhan Ruyan’s proud mood. A cunning act by a Nin, indeed.

“Having a high natural, vitalized, and endurable physique with the regeneration abilities of an Arrancar doesn’t mean one should work tirelessly,” Clare continued. “Resting and getting rid of fatigue is also important. Even if your guard is up, if you’re in poor condition, you could lose to monsters weaker than you. This happens all the time in Salamander.”

The other young Arrancars didn’t look scared or worried in the slightest at GIMEL’s words. Instead, they wore awkward expressions as they imagined the humiliation of losing to weaker monsters.

“You must maintain your best condition to perform at your best,” Clare emphasized. “I know you’ve spent most of your lives disciplining yourselves, so resting might feel awkward, but it’s time to learn how to take care of your bodies.”

She massaged her swollen and bruised palms, still sore from the fights she encountered in the “Great Edge.” “For today, let’s rest well…”

Plus, “all work and no rest makes Jim a very stressed, and fish-eyed office worker.”

The young Arrancars seemed startled at these words as if realizing for the first time that they had left the world inside the Institute of Arrancars. They had spent almost half their lives living on a great mountain, isolated from the outside world, and learning to torture themselves. They had tried too hard to keep up, too hard to grow, too hard to live and become strong, and had worked extremely hard to reign supreme in the sea of talented young Arrancars. It was time to learn how to take care of their bodies. Who knew when or where they might get attacked next—or worse

They contemplated her words, their previously excited auras now subdued.

“...enough to get prepared for the next missions,” GIMEL added, turning her head to the side to face the shiro with multiple floors. She walked up the stairs to the main double-door entrance, and the young Arrancars nodded and followed suit.

Opening the double doors, which released a gust of warm, sealed-off air, Clare felt a powerful presence all around her as darkness shrouded the interior. The atmosphere was meant to be intimidating, with eyes watching from the shadows. But to her, they were just rats trying to hide. She let out a stressed sigh.

"Stop hiding like rats. I'm already stressed. We just need some room to rest in. You don’t need to come out—just answer."

Her casual words echoed into the darkness.  The figure emitting an intimidating presence, with glowing crimson eyes, was surprised that a Half-breed Nin had noticed him. Of course, her kind was known for their strength in terms of energy, mind games, wit, and elegance. But mixed with demon blood and the rigorous training of the Institute of Arrancar, it was no surprise she could sense him.

Footsteps echoed from the shadows as the room gradually brightened. Though only slightly. The demon, realizing he had been discovered, decided to emerge, melting out of the darkness.

Zhan Ruyan and the other young Arrancar behind Clare, sharp-eared and tense, sensed the increasing footsteps and the unfamiliar presence. Their battle instincts kicked in, their gazes sharpened, energy stirred, and weapons were either drawn or at the ready. They prepared to attack the moment the presence emerged from the shadows.

But Clare swiftly held up a hand, stopping them. "Don’t. Be calm," she ordered.

They were in a base of the Demon Clan. Whoever was inside, masking their presence and coming out slowly in response to her words, was likely not an enemy. There was no bloodlust, no intention to attack—just someone relatively high-ranking in the Clan.

"Hohohoho. Rumor has it that the current Institute of Arrancar has produced the best in all history," a voice trailed off as footsteps stopped, and a figure stepped into the dim light. The magical beads scattered around the interior glowed softly.

"And it seems that information is accurate," he grinned.

The figure was a demon with a middle-aged appearance. His double horns, exposed fangs, and sharp ears marked him as part of the Clan. He wore sleeveless, roughly cut robes, revealing muscular arms marred by hideous scars. These marks, likely from a succubus's whip, glittered with embedded metal. Whether they were badges of honor or pride, the demon displayed them openly.

Clare briefly wondered if he had fought with a succubus like Dolrence Winterler. The scars were terrifying yet intriguing—how had this extremely pale-skinned demon survived such a bloody ordeal? As she quickly assessed the demon's identity based on his appearance, she realized that Arrancar was at least at the Pawn level. Only one person could hide so effortlessly from the senses of the Institute of Arrancar while creating such an intimidating presence.

When he fully appeared, the young Arrancar bowed their heads. "It's an honor to meet you!"

Clare didn’t bow but quickly greeted the Arrancar before her. "It’s nice to meet you, Thousand Scars Arrancar, Bubura Gaston. I am GIMEL, leader of the First Young Arrancar Group."

Bubura Gaston squinted his eyes, surprised by the Half-breed Nin’s calm and unwavering demeanor. Her indifferent gaze, along with her still bushy tails, created an air of mystery.

Letting out a sigh, he introduced himself, "Lumencis’s base Steward, Bubura Gaston. The Clan contacted me in advance about you. And do you know what I think about you, foxy?"

Clare’s expression didn’t change, not even slightly. She remained like an emotionless doll, her eyes clear like an autumn river.

"...I couldn’t agree more that you’re the strongest among the Institute’s young Arrancars," Bubura Gaston remarked with a grin, thinking to himself, ‘What a very closed ancient book indeed.’

Clare’s expression finally shifted slightly, a small smile appearing on her lips. "I’m flattered by the exaggeration."

It was true, but Clare hoped to stay in the good graces of this base Steward. While confident, she wasn’t one to brag. She was curious about how the Clan spoke of her but knew better than to ask or reveal her real name.

"Exaggeration?" Bubura Gaston took two steps closer, closing the height difference between them. Though he was much taller and bulkier, the distance seemed insignificant. "You all are our fellow Arrancars, the next generation of the Clan. I’m excited to work with you."

Bubura Gaston had decided he approved of the Nin before him and extended his hand for a handshake.

"Alright," GIMEL responded, reaching out her jade-like yet sore hand.

Their hands clenched together in a firm shake.

"Hohohoho! Though it's not like some base Steward in the middle of nowhere can change the world just by wandering, right?" Bubura Gaston joked with a loud laugh.

"I know, right? You don’t need to be so polite, ‘Wandering Sky Awareness—should I say—JAVAN’," GIMEL replied calmly, her eyes sharp as blades.

Bubura Gaston was startled at being addressed by his lesser-known "Arrancar name," a name he was given during his time at the Institute of Arrancar, especially by someone so young. "You even know about that?"

GIMEL let out a deep breath. "Senior Instructor Edgar Le Nigel told me you were once known for ‘your overwhelming awareness in communicating telepathically within a thousand miles’."

It was the truth, no embellishment was needed. Before leaving the Clan, she had asked the Senior Instructor about the other bases, and he had described all the "base Stewards" they should seek out if they needed information along the way. Even Mei Tai, the dean of the Institute, had agreed, adding her own insights.

Bubura Gaston smiled slightly, though his face briefly stiffened in fear as memories of the cold and brutal Instructor resurfaced. "Is that so?"

GIMEL nodded. Having overwhelming awareness of communicating telepathically within a thousand miles and also listening within the same distance were special Arrancars often divided to benefit each base and personal ambitions of the Clan. But when they came together, they stood as one entity, running an organization called ‘Million Miles Omniscience,’ also known as ‘Knowing all things within a million miles.’ This information network, like a cobweb cast over the vast seas of important and trivial information in Salamander, has been the eyes and ears of the Demon Clan. The Senior Instructor, Edgar Le Nigel, once held an executive position there.

The shining star among these special Arrancars was ‘Wandering Sky Awareness—JAVAN,’ an Arrancar whose information channels missed nothing, not even the tiniest speck of dust, as his awareness spread like delicate yet sturdy webs.

Now, due to infighting and the Holy Grail War, few still remember this Arrancar. But those who did place great importance on him.

“You are the ‘Wandering Sky Awareness—JAVAN,’ who served as the eyes and ears of the Demon Clan,” GIMEL said, placing her hand on her chest in a respectful bow before him. “That’s why I need your help for this mission.”

“My help… that’s…” Bubura Gaston let out a deep breath. It was too sudden. Even if she hadn’t asked, he would have assisted anyway, following orders from the higher-ups. Still, he didn’t understand her true motive. “Since you mentioned my ‘Arrancar name and moniker’—something only a few know—I assume you need information only I can provide.” Bubura Gaston concluded that this must be the reason a Nin was requesting his help. He fell silent for a moment as the young Arrancar watched apprehensively.

“Alright. Let’s go for a walk,” he said to GIMEL. “The rest of your squad can settle into the accommodations prepared for you.” With that, he walked past them.

“You heard him…” GIMEL turned to the others as she followed Bubura Gaston. They nodded and began to enter the building.

“… He said you could make yourselves at home until the mission begins,” she continued as she descended the stairs they had once climbed. “But don’t get lazy. Maintain your condition and keep your guard up. Make sure your enemies end up beneath your feet.”

Like an ancient shepherd speaking to her flock, GIMEL issued her orders before continuing after Bubura Gaston.

“Yes, Squad Leader! We’ll rest and prepare for the next mission!” the others shouted firmly as they slammed the double doors shut.