Demonic Kitsune

The "Five Purples" had been alerted that the young Arrancars were tracking them. This was bothersome, to say the least. A single-horned Arrancar raised her hand and asked, her white hair swaying in the cool breeze, "What led to this?"

Hell, how did this happen? The one who asked was Julie Tao-Yao, also known as "NETH," a female member of the First Young Arrancar Group, skilled in covert operations. Julie wore dark, slim-fitting robes that enhanced her camouflage, covering her up to the neck like a turtleneck. When not in disguise, her face was delicate and jade-like, with plump red lips that matched her languid, sunken eyes. Beneath her robes, her skin was as flawless as white snow.

Clare glanced at her, but it was Zhan Ruyan who responded. "One of the spies who was tracking them got caught. The autopsy shows signs of extreme torture and rape."

In other words, the captured spy was either a female Arrancar or one of the Five Purples who caught the spy was a female Goblin. Which one could it be? The thought made Clare secretly clench her fist in rage.

Zhan Ruyan’s face hardened as he read the message. The signs of torture and rape meant that not only were the Five Purples aware they were being hunted, but they had likely extracted valuable information from the spy. It was safe to assume the agent had revealed something crucial.

"By the way, Squad Leader, where’s the good news in this letter?" Zhan Ruyan asked skeptically. "The only other thing mentioned is that the Purples are openly exposing themselves at some rented mansion in the main state of Lumencis."

Zhan Ruyan didn’t see how this could be considered good news. Lumencis was about ten hours from the outskirts. This was clearly a provocation—an invitation for the First Young Arrancar Squad to attack. The Five Purples were practically begging for a confrontation, openly waiting for the Clan to appear. It was a show of overconfidence.

"...And that’s the good news," Clare sighed.

"Pardon?"

Clare smiled. "Look here. These damned Hobbits have underestimated us. Hearing about the havoc they wreaked in our Clan’s territory, I thought they were some skilled, large-scale independent clan or confident mercenaries. But this only proves they’re just reckless idiots who hunt for treasure and then stay in the same territory where they committed their crimes."

Stupidity in Salamander meant an early death. As the saying goes, "Ninety-nine days for the thief, one day for the owner." Of course, if one is vigilant, they might prolong their day of reckoning a little longer. But eventually, death comes. Ignoring the inevitable, even when the storm is closing in, is the same as inviting death.

It was foolish for the Five Purple Hobbits to think so highly of themselves that they proudly loitered in the Demonic Arrancar Clan’s domain after committing a crime. If the Clan wished, a single Arrancar Knight or General could wipe out the Five Purples with ease.

"The training at the Institute," Clare folded her arms and closed her eyes, "should be more than enough to deal with such morons."

Right. Goblins would always be Goblins. Regardless of the Holy Grail War, they never changed—they just grew more foolish.

Even in the future, the training at the Institute of Arrancar would likely remain some of the hardest days of their lives. Those were days when they befriended hardship, struggle, torment, despair, terror, agony, and death.

Day after day, all seven misfortunes befell them, no matter how they resisted. This was part of their daily life as Arrancars. Yet, they had made it out alive, stronger, and reigning supreme.

A sharp swirl of demonic energy, in different hues, erupted from the young Arrancars. It was like stirring magma, distorting the atmosphere and halting the breeze. The wind became a gale of a million blades as their will-o’-wisp eyes glowed with intense malice. Some gnashed their teeth, making cracking sounds, while others bit their lower lips until blood seeped out. Zhan Ruyan, in particular, clenched his hefty hands tightly, veins bulging. Just remembering the Institute of Arrancar—all the ordeals, trials, and seven misfortunes they endured—caused their hostility and fighting spirit to surge.

Clare noted the rising energy, both in temperature and atmospheric distortion. She opened her eyes and laughed aloud.

"Hahahahaha!" Clare rose from her spot, her eyes icy and glowing with malice as her bushy tails swelled. "We’ll definitely return to the Clan with the five heads of the Purple Hobbits!"

The others jumped up and bowed their heads. "Yes, Squad Leader!" They were firm, ready for their next order.

— — — — — 

In a sizable pavilion within a large courtyard surrounded by dense, towering trees, the Five Purple-hued Goblins, known as the “Five Purple Hobbits,” lounged. This courtyard lay in front of a vast mansion of imposing stature, its stacked floors reminiscent of a shiro, yet not quite the same.

“Third Purple, the damned Hounds of the Demonic Arrancar Clan might show up today,” said First Purple, the leader of the group. His voice was deep and commanding as he tore into the leg of a beast caught just hours earlier in the dense forest.

With his mouth still full, Third Purple responded with a nonchalant shrug. “Well, it’s all according to the Will of the Ancestor. They’ll come when the time is right.”

The other Four Purple Hobbits, each a skilled combatant in their own right, burst into laughter. They had not only mastered their bloodlust-filled auras but also unique forms of “Monsterization.”

Fifth Purple, the youngest and most impulsive, slammed his mug onto the table with a grin. “Kukukuku. There should be females among the Hounds of the Demonic Arrancar Clan, right? I wouldn’t mind building some deep virtue through interaction with them for vitality. Besides, it’s been a while since the last spy was caught. My lower side is tingling for some action. Kukukuku.”

Second Purple, a cold and calculating goblin, nodded approvingly. “Of course, do as you wish. The intentions of the ‘Great Treasure Hunter’ are praiseworthy. Our benevolent Goblin Ancestor will surely grant your wishes.”

As they laughed, it was clear that their actions weren’t just immoral—they were far worse than those of ordinary goblins. However, after the Holy Grail War, they had been categorized differently due to their experiences, strength, and purple-hued skin. These so-called “Treasure Hunters” reveled in their vices, speaking of their twisted desires with a warped sense of reverence. Despite their roguish behavior—drinking without restraint, feasting without thought for tomorrow, raping females for pleasure rather than procreation, and speaking lecherously—they dared to call themselves descendants and followers of the benevolent Goblin Ancestor.

Fifth Purple roared with laughter, his sharp purple teeth glinting, and his bald head shining. “Kukukuku, I hope so. Is there more booze to keep me high?”

Beside him, five empty mugs lay strewn about, yet he showed no signs of inebriation. His mastery of Monsterization—evident in his “two-chains” of aura—was overwhelmingly potent, with faint distortions rippling across his body, and veins faintly protruding—a testament to the standby activation of his Monsterization. The other guests in the rented mansion had long since fled, leaving only the terrified mansion manager behind, now reduced to a trembling maid.

“Here you go, doggy,” the dog-race demi-human manager stammered as he handed over another jar. His once-erect ears lay flat, and his tail was tucked between his legs.

Fifth Purple eyed the jar with disappointment. “Is this all? The benevolent Ancestor shows such praiseworthy intentions, and yet this is the only virtue you damned dog can offer. You must be as lowly as they say.” He sighed, his voice dropping to a menacing tone. “I shouldn’t have ignored the rule against killing all the Arrancar spies the other day. I should’ve feasted to the fullest and sent their souls to meet the benevolent Ancestor.”

At this point, First Purple’s bald head twitched. He sensed something in the wind—something it carried from afar. His lips curled into a wide smile, revealing his fangs. “That’s enough, Fifth Purple,” he said, alerting the others. Their bald heads twitched in unison, sensing the incoming danger. “Treasure Hunters, it seems we have some guests.”

They smiled, their eyes narrowing as their auras began to stir, tendrils of orange-hued energy dancing around them. Their gazes fixated on the dense forest ahead. Danger lurked within the shadows, prying eyes watching them.

At First Purple’s words, Third Purple flicked his sleeve. If rats wanted to attack, they should do it openly, not skulk around spying. He sent a turbid wave of orange-hued force through the air. The surrounding trees were instantly cleaved into pieces, the shockwaves scattering dust, leaves, petals, shrapnel, and branches in all directions. As the dust settled, the Five Purple Hobbits saw a considerable number—over twenty—Arrancars surrounding the pavilion. At the forefront stood a half-breed Nin, different in height and maturity, but with a jade-like appearance. Her bushy, swollen, squirming nine tails curled behind her back, and she wielded a death-brimming scythe.

Seeing that the attack had done little to eliminate the enemies behind the dispersing dust cloud, Third Purple sneered. “The Hounds of the Demonic Arrancar Clan have arrived.”

From the dispersing dust cloud, the Nin emerged with an aura of authority and a gaze of superiority. She stepped forward, the death-brimming scythe slung over her shoulder like a Grim Reaper. “...and we’re here to send you goblin bastards to meet the great and benevolent Goblin Ancestor.”

Her voice cut through the tense atmosphere like a thousand piercing daggers. With that, all the members of the First Young Arrancar Squad surged into the courtyard, cracking the air with their imminent presence.

— — — — — 

Like comets streaking through the twilight sky, the young Arrancars of the First Squad rushed through the devastated forests, leaped from the roof of the towering mansion, and strode across the field toward the open courtyard, their intent murderous.

The demi-human innkeeper and the remaining demon and monster maids had fled to the mansion, shivering as they crawled on the floor in terror. Meanwhile, each young Arrancar pulled a hidden object from their sleeves and hurled it forward.

"Torrential Downpour of a Thousand Daggers: Καταρρακτώδης Καταιγίδα από Χίλια Μαχαίρια!"

Two hundred and twenty alloy-steel daggers, each infused with a trace of demonic energy—ten from each Arrancar—soared through the air from all directions, like a downpour in a storm. The air crackled with demonic energy as the daggers whistled and exploded toward the pavilion where the Five Purple Hobbits were sheltered.

“Ohohoho, thousands of daggers, you say?” the Third Purple scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery.

He punched the air skyward with one hand while sweeping the other sideways. The force from his fist exploded, shattering the pavilion's roof into shards, scattering debris and shrapnel. Simultaneously, a powerful wind surged through the damaged roof, striking the incoming daggers and deflecting them. The gust he created around the pavilion sent the daggers flying in all directions.

“Watch it, you fool!” the Fifth Purple barked, glaring at the Third. “You ruined the pavilion with that reckless attack!”

The Third Purple sighed, rolling his eyes. “Maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with that shiny bald head of yours, you’d notice the actual fight.”

“Obsessed? I just don’t want bird crap on my head, thank you very much!” the Fifth retorted.

Ignoring the young Arrancars, the two continued their banter as if the battle was an afterthought.

Meanwhile, the daggers embedded themselves in the mansion walls, and the tiled floors, and some disappeared into the distance. The unstable pavilion collapsed, forcing the Five Purples to leap away. Not a single dagger found its mark. Zhan Ruyan sneered, unfazed. They never expected the daggers to harm the Five Purples; it was merely a distraction, a calculated part of their plan.

The daggers served their purpose by dividing the Five Purple Hobbits, surrounding them. The Third and Fifth continued their argument, while the others observed the young Arrancars with curiosity. What would they do next? Regroup after their initial attack failed? Or reveal another trick? The Second Purple pondered this, unaware of the young Arrancars' true intentions.

Suddenly, the Second Purple’s sharp ears twitched as Zhan Ruyan charged. Faint distortions rippled through Second Purple’s body, his veins bulging grotesquely—evidence of his “Monsterization of Stone.” as his fist gripped his weapon at the same that Zhan Ruyan's fists encased in gauntlets, he swung at the Second Purple with deadly intent.

“You damned demons! Is this part of your twisted plan?!” the Second Purple spat, his voice seething with rage.

Their weapons collided, the Second Purple’s blade clashing with Zhan Ruyan’s gauntlets. A shockwave of dense, quicksand-like demonic energy mixed with an orange-hued aura blasted outward. The force separated the Second Purple from the others, forcing him to retreat further. Zhan Ruyan sneered, recognizing that the goblin was smart enough to sense the danger.

Meanwhile, the other young Arrancars had executed their roles, surrounding the Fourth, Third, and Fifth Purples, employing a “Rotation Striking Formation” and relying on their numbers. Sparks flew, shrapnel scattered, and dust filled the air as they clashed, proving their skill and determination against the seasoned goblins.

Only the strongest of the Purples remained. Clare moved toward him, just as the First Purple noticed her. Recognizing his opponent through a mix of intuition and battle-hardened experience from the ruthless Holy Grail War, he met her head-on. His slim lance blade clashed with Clare’s scythe, creating a shockwave and a resounding blast. They were soon face-to-face.

Veins bulged grotesquely on the First Purple’s face as his mastery of “Monsterization” peaked. He gripped his lance tightly, his eyes narrowing with intent.

“Did you say you’d send me to the Great Benevolence Ancestor?” he sneered, his voice low and menacing.

“My bad,” Clare replied, her tone mocking. “Would you prefer meeting the Mountain Ancestor instead?”

The First Purple’s face twisted with fury, his voice a growl. “You should be more worried about yourself, Nin. I’ll tear off those bushy tails and ears of yours and feed them to the Mountain Orcs!”

They exchanged taunts as their weapons clashed again. Clare’s bushy tails tensed and curved in rhythm as her scythe sliced through the air with lethal precision. The First Purple’s lance, infused with a deeper orange-hued aura, cleaved toward her, matching Clare’s power and speed. The air crackled with tension as blasts echoed through the battlefield. Clare gripped the hilt of her scythe, her wrist trembling slightly from the intensity of their clashes.

She hated to admit it, but the First Purple was formidable. She hadn’t even tapped into her energies, relying solely on her physical strength and basic techniques. Yet, the leader of the "Treasure Hunters" was proving to be a formidable opponent.

The First Purple was equally surprised. A young half-breed Nin with such a strong physique and perfect scythe-manship? She was definitely a rising star in the Demonic Arrancar Clan, a storm on the horizon. His arm shook from the strength of her attacks. He couldn’t afford to hold back; if he didn’t defeat her now, he’d surely regret it later.

As his Monsterization peaked, the First Purple swirled and gathered the orange-hued aura around himself, fully intent on killing the Nin. The immense aura flowed out of his lance, stretching into several snake-like tendrils that gathered in one place, intertwining.

Aura of Monsterization.

Clare recognized the rare sight. She’d only seen something like it a few times in her previous life as a Heavenly Saintess. Stirring her own demonic energy—neither Asura energy nor Holy Mana—but a purplish-dark power, her eyes glinted with a dark hue. The demonic energy surged from her scythe, wrapping around it in response to the Aura of Monsterization. Clare activated her own scythe’s solidified aura, matching the First Purple's monstrous power with her own.

“Ohohoho. A scythe aura is the best you, an Arrancar Nin, can muster? You're pretty good for your age, but you’re no match for me! Don’t worry; I’ll try to be gentle when I turn you into my sex slave, so I’ll end this quickly.”

Clare clenched her jaw secretly at his arrogance. She refused to lose her composure to a pervert like him. Her swelling tails whispered to her, urging her to let the demon side take over if he pushed her any further. But she rejected the temptation, insisting she would handle it herself. Calming her inner turmoil, Clare bounded forward without replying.

“You seem to lack patience, Nin.” The First Purple twirled his lance, ready to strike.

Clare’s bushy tails stiffened in anticipation as she ducked, her feet gliding over the ground. The fearsome pressure of the Monsterization Aura imbued in the lance passed just over her shoulders. It was a deceptive attack that could pierce an opponent before they realized it was coming. The awkward yet fascinating technique left a thin wound on her left shoulder.

It made sense—she had sensed one attack and dodged it, but instinctively avoided the other. Clare gritted her teeth and swung her scythe, but the First Purple had already pulled back, leaving her strike to slice through the air with force.

Several more exchanges followed, but the outcome was the same. Despite avoiding any serious injuries, Clare found herself consistently moving half a beat slower than the First Purple. With his aggressive and explosive Aura of Monsterization, Clare was soon covered in small cuts.

She withdrew her scythe and backed off, barely escaping the First Purple’s offensive. The fight was challenging, but not overwhelming. The good news was that the Aura of Monsterization swirling around his lance was weakening. The toll it took on his body was beginning to show—his breaths were rough, and grotesque veins throbbed beneath his skin, no longer as thick as before.

Clare weighed her options. If she dragged this out, her opponent would exhaust himself from the strain. But the longer the fight continued, the more injuries she risked. That wouldn’t do. No matter how skilled this First Purple Hobbit was, he wouldn’t be allowed to inflict more wounds on her sacred body—not even if he burned his life force to do it.

'...Well, I guess I’ll do it.'

Clare decided to try something new, something she had sealed away since her seclusion training. Letting out a deep breath, she released the tension from her body, her once-stiffened fluffy tails relaxing slightly.

With a swift motion, she unlatched the alloy-steel bracers binding her arms. The weight of them was so immense that their removal released a cold steam, as though pressure had been sealed within.

First Purple’s beady eyes, which had been fixated on Clare’s nimble, jade-like arms as she flexed them, widened in shock. The overwhelming sound of the bracers hitting the tiled ground, leaving craters in their wake, stunned him. 

Before he could react, Clare charged—

—Scythe met Lance, and sparks of differently-hued energy scattered into the air, accompanied by shockwaves that left destruction in their wake. Amidst the chaos, the wind blew, causing Clare’s fluffy ears and tails to tingle. She attacked and parried the First Purple’s strikes with far more ease than before. Shrapnel, debris, and dirt flew everywhere, pulverizing trees, trunks, branches, grass, and tiles into dust that shrouded the air.

Through the clearing dust, Clare suddenly moved faster, tightening her grip and changing momentum. Her eyes glinted with a dark purplish hue. Her scythe moved with blinding speed, its curved blade slicing through the air like a conch shell.

Sensing the danger, the First Purple leaped backward, his battle instincts honed from the Holy Grail War screaming at him. But Clare was faster.

‘Heaven Piercing Down the Underworld.’

The long assed-name of an improved scythe technique that flashed in Clare’s mind came to play as she stabbed downward with ferocity, her strike fused with dense, twisting demonic energy. The heavens’ tribulation sparkled and pierced the earth, leaving only devastation in its wake. The First Purple was knocked back with blood pouring from his deep wounds, still in mid-air, staring alternately at the lance in his hideous purple hand and the scythe that had just struck him with overwhelming strength and vigor.

He gnashed his blood-stained fanged teeth. “You damned brat, you hid your real strength!”

“I never did,” Clare grinned, her fang showing as her demon side took over for a split second. “I just tried something new.”

It was only natural for the Aura of Monsterization, despite the First Purple’s mastery, to take a toll and reveal its flaws. Clare had just waited for the right moment. “C’mon, you stupid goblin. Do you not understand your own strength before pushing yourself too far?”

It was basic common sense. Mastery of a technique doesn’t free one from its limitations. If one doesn’t understand their own limits after mastering a technique, it becomes a double-edged dagger that impales its wielder from behind. The First Purple Hobbit believed in his mastery so much that he neglected his limits, running around with pride.

Living without understanding why one is alive is like lying flat without responsibility, goals, ambitions, interests, and obligations. Understanding one’s own limits, adjusting one’s mindset, and balancing power with experience are also part of living. The First Purple had neglected this.

Clare activated “Mana of Fossilization,” but this time, she also called forth another power: Bloodlust. These two forces blended and began to rise from her body.

Every young Arrancar was busy dealing with their own battles, shockwaves, and debris flying everywhere. No one noticed the ominous dark bluish hue of the perfectly tempered “Mana of Fossilization” and “Bloodlust” spreading like fog toward the First Purple.

In addition to mastering the Five Purple Hobbits, Clare had also refined her understanding of “Mana of Fossilization” and practiced Mental Fortitude and Unique Mana management to surprising levels. She could now control and give shapes to its outburst.

The blended power crawled across the devastated field, petrifying everything in its path, and wrapped around the First Purple without turning him to stone. For any monster—especially those from goblin ancestors who had learned “Monsterization”—the blended power Clare unleashed felt like the crawl of a thousand snakes, swarms of deadly worms, and insects. It was like a plague, terrifyingly unreal.

The effect on the First Purple was immediate. His movements became slower and more robotic. Clare grinned and gripped her scythe. “I’ll offer you two wonderful gifts at once… Dying by my hand and…”

While the First Purple tried to escape her onslaught, he also struggled to shake off the “Mysterious Blended Power” clinging to him. He screamed, a mixture of pain and frustration. His large nose began to drip mucus, and tears beaded in his eyes. He never wanted this. He only wanted to steal some treasures and live a peaceful life with his crew, away from cruel wars, blood, and death. That’s all he had ever wanted.

But now, only a faint hint of the Aura of Monsterization remained in his body. It was inevitable, but he didn’t want to give up. He clenched his fists tightly, causing them to bleed. Even if he were to die today, he refused to die pathetically like the lowly race he came from, slaughtered in the Holy Grail War.

With a final, anguished cry, a distorted light once again covered his body, and dark hideous veins throbbed beneath his skin. A powerful whitish-orange aura, coiled like a large snake, erupted from his lance.

But in that moment, as his aura collided with Clare’s, her energy shifted.

"… I’m honored to fight against you," she added.

The First Purple Hobbit's eyes widened in surprise. His reputation had indeed changed, but it was already too late for repentance.

The purplish-dark yellow and the "Deep Bluish Hue of Perfectly Tempered Mana of Fossilization"—which she had fully perfected to reduce the high energy consumption and mental fortitude required to maintain it by at least ninety percent—began to radiate with stunning brilliance within her body. The now densely green energy surged through Clare’s Energy Circuit, saturating every millimeter of her being. Muscle fibers stretched and contracted instantly. Her muscles, heartbeat, breathing, and blood flow synchronized in perfect rhythm. Her swollen, writhing tails froze in anticipation, and with a fierce swing, her scythe slashed in all directions with greater force than ever before.

Unpredictable, "unwavering psychological impacts" materialized, visible like falling petals sharper than blades. They struck forty-five times, slicing through the abundant "Aura of Monsterization" and "Lance," turning them to dust.

The First Purple Hobbit was reduced to forty-five gory, glunky pieces. Staring at the bloody remains of what was once a living and breathing leader of the Treasure Hunters, Clare delivered her final words. "If only you hadn’t insulted me in the beginning, I wouldn’t have diced you."

It seemed Clare held a grudge against anyone who insulted the fluffy, foxy side of her. And unluckily, the First Purple was among the victims this time. Her bushy tails, now slightly relaxed, swerved in agreement.

—- — —- —- — 

Soon after, Clare no longer cared about the First Purple and moved in another direction. Her new target was another Purple Hobbit.

Some distance away in the devastated woods, Julie Tao-yao took a hit and staggered back. Her hand was torn, blood flowing freely. Sensing her distress, another young Arrancar with a Jian coated in demonic energy jumped in, switching places with her. They were executing the “Rotation Striking Formation” against each Purple Hobbit, hoping to survive until GIMEL, their squad leader, finished with the First Purple, leader of the Five Purple Hobbits.

The Five Purples were stronger, but not enough to kill the young Arrancars in a single blow. As long as they kept rotating and attacking with numbers, they could endure.

At least, that was the plan.

Julie Tao-yao was panting heavily, exhausted and low on demonic energy, as she moved.

“Hey, baby! Why are you leaving in such a hurry? Entertain me a little before you go.” The Fifth Purple’s eyes gleamed with lust as he pursued her, ignoring the others. Something under his robes was rock hard.

Leaping into the air, the Fifth Purple raised his weapon high. Julie Tao-yao’s horns tingled as she sensed danger. She tightened her grip on her weapon, barely managing to block his poison-corrosive blade. He aimed at her chest, hips, and thighs with a creepy smile, his eyes filled with lecherous intent. The aftershocks from her parries left her trembling, but she deflected his attacks, keeping his poison at bay.

The “Rotation Striking Formation” kicked in. Two battered young Arrancars appeared—one wielding mace, the other a triple-headed spear—trying to stop the Fifth Purple’s relentless pursuit of their comrade.

But the Fifth Purple ignored them, grinning. The young Arrancar who had previously switched places with Julie Tao-yao, now wielding daggers, joined in, making it three against one. They knew this was likely the goblin who had raped and tortured their spy, and their malice fueled their attacks. They have to avenge her. 

The Fifth Purple’s bald head twitched, and his sharp ears narrowed in irritation. “Damn you, Demon Clan bastards. How dare you stop me, the treasure hunter, from fulfilling the Will of the Benevolence Ancestor!”

He swung his corrosive light-saber, but his strength was unstable, his fighting style hampered by fluctuating pain and amplified lust.

Despite this, he knocked the young Arrancars away with powerful swings, sending them flying in arcs of blood. The formation broke, and with it, their balance of power.

“Kukukuku! Baby, don’t be in a haste. Come here and let me play with that tingling thing under there!”

He was beyond perverted, and no justification could change that. Julie Tao-yao knew from her readings in the Demonic Treasure Vault that goblins had high libidos, but they usually controlled them to maintain dignity and honor. This goblin, however, was completely out of his mind. She gritted her teeth. If not for her injuries and exhaustion, she would have attacked. But that would break the squad leader’s orders. “Damn it!” she cursed under her breath as she ran.

Despite the growing danger, Julie Tao-yao knew her target and attack patterns. She pretended not to notice them, stalling for time. Even so, she barely managed to block his attacks.

“Are you playing hard to get with me?” The Fifth Purple’s twisted expression grew darker. “Kukukuku! I’m talking to you!” He moved faster, flickering through the air like the wind, making chills creep up Julie Tao-yao’s back. She zigzagged through the devastated forest, trying to shake him off.

But the Fifth Purple anticipated her moves. He flickered back into view just as Julie Tao-yao sensed his approach. She attacked instinctively with her double-edged sword, coated with the last of her demonic energy. Slick with blood, the sword slipped from her hands by a sneak attack from the latter.

Now empty-handed, Julie Tao-yao turned pale. Exhausted and trembling, she almost collapsed but forced herself to stand. Just as she was about to consider her next move, the grinning Fifth Purple extended a wicked hand toward her. She was ready to sacrifice herself, exploding her life force to take him with her when she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, I admire your courage and resolve…”

It was the voice of her squad leader… but from where?

Time seemed to stop. The wind, the chaos, and the pervert’s hand all froze. Above her, the squad leader loomed, scythe raised high.

“... Just leave it to me! A pervert like this won’t be allowed to take another breath. Brace yourself, girl,” GIMEL added, her eyes icy. 

The air crackled with explosive force as arcs of energy fell from the sky like torrential rain. Julie Tao-yao struggled to move out of the way, watching in awe as each arc collided with the Fifth Purple. Realizing his imminent death, he was filled with regret that he never tasted this Arrancar female. The explosion erupted, blood spraying across the devastated field.

There were only two things in Julie Tao-yao's line of sight: the aftermath of destruction and the gory, minced remains of the Fifth Purple. Her opponent hadn’t even managed a proper scream as he was grotesquely dismembered into countless pieces.

Clare descended slowly, like a feather, before dashing in another direction, leaving a shockwave in her wake. She was headed for the Third Purple. After defeating the First Purple and observing the young Arrancars, she had seen the "Fourth Purple" impaled by numerous weapons. With the Fifth Purple now dealt with, she moved swiftly to finish off the Third. Both of her arm bracers were off—she needed to end the battle quickly. If she wasted any more time, her squad members would be in serious danger. Julie Tao-yao had already nearly fallen due to exhaustion from fighting the Fourth Purple alongside the others. Three members were seriously injured and poisoned, while others lay scattered, unconscious, and bleeding.

As Clare closed in on the Third Purple, she noticed Zhan Ruyan still locked in combat with the Second Purple. Despite taking hits, her second-in-command wasn’t being pushed back at all. Zhan Ruyan was precise, throwing counterpunches infused with demonic energy whenever he found an opening, matching the Second Purple’s power and speed.

Blasts echoed, further distorting the ravaged battlefield. Steel rapiers clashed against gauntlets as they exchanged blows, each employing cunning tactics and channeling their demonic energy and orange-hued auras. To an observer, they might have seemed evenly matched.

But Clare saw things differently. 

Watching the Second Purple’s frantic attacks, she found it almost pitiful. She could already predict the outcome—Zhan Ruyan would win. The Aura of Monsterization from the Second Purple was five digits lower than that of the First Purple, so while the battle wouldn’t be easy, Zhan Ruyan faced no major threat.

Clare decided to stay her course. The Third Purple wouldn’t stand a chance. It wasn’t much of a fight. Within moments, the Third Purple was dismembered, his decapitated head rolling across the field.

By then, the other battle was also drawing to a close. With a final surge of power, Zhan Ruyan’s gauntlet crackled with dense demonic energy. The aura shimmered, large and visible, as he unleashed a barrage of powerful punches.

Each blow carved through the air, creating shockwaves that reverberated across the battlefield. A final punch struck the Second Purple square in the chest, sending him hurtling into a thick, battered tree. The impact was so forceful that the tree crashed to the ground with a loud thud, scattering dust and debris.

Zhan Ruyan allowed himself a small cheer of victory, though the other young Arrancars were too drained to respond. Ever calm and indifferent, Clare—GIMEL—watched as she calmly slid her alloy-steel bracers back onto her arms, releasing a quiet sigh.

Her once-tense, stiffened nine-tails began to relax, swaying gently as the wind blew through the battlefield, carrying away the remnants of their struggle.

The battle against the Five Purple Hobbits, also known as "The Treasure Hunters," had finally come to an end.