Demonic Kitsune

At the edge of the Salamander Continent lies a land filled with towering mountain peaks, unfathomable terrains, dense rainforests, and vast plains of eerily purplish grass. This place is forbidden in tales and shrouded in fog on maps. It is home to the Demonic Arrancar Clan.

West of the Demonic Arrancar Clan, a neat, beautifully constructed, and well-polished Shiro, a fortress stacked on another, was built. This place is called the "Arrancar Institute," a training facility for the youth within the clan.

From the exterior, it looks like a normal towering institute, but what goes on inside is beyond comprehension.

In a neat, elegant, but dimly lit office at the Institute of Arrancar, a black-haired, bold-looking lady sat on a well-made seat. Her sharp dark and whitish eyes, pointed ears, and frons-horn reflected both her elegance and her belligerence. Her name was Mei Tai, the Dean of the Institute and overseer of all its activities.

Her gaze fell onto the pile of documents stacked in front of her. They had been sent from the upper ranks of the Clan. Mei Tai scrutinized the papers, skimming through them while sipping coffee from a white cup—a habit formed from stress.

She savored her coffee. After filling her mouth with lukewarm coffee, she breathed slowly through her nose. Instinctively, this relieved her stress. Only then, did she deepen in contemplation.

The Institute of Arrancar was a training facility designed to nurture youth and identify talents, similar to several programs within Salamander. However, their approach differed significantly from that of the Holy Church, the seven great families, the ten best guilds, and the great continental royal clans. Unlike these more refined institutions, the Institute's methods were neither polite nor conventional. This was largely because the Clan, that operated the Institute, was historically associated with the Monster races.

It was unlike the selective processes those powerhouses used, where their code resembled survival of the fittest. Only the most talented youth, those who showed promise, would survive the training. The unfortunate ones, however, weren't so lucky. 

While handing over the documents, Mei Tai recalled the four main teachings of the Institute. These teachings were specifically referred to as the “5 Texts.”

Only those who can keep up endure.

Only those who endure grow. 

Only those who grow live. 

Only those who live are strong. 

Only those who are strong reign supreme.

In essence, there's no space for the weak and untalented to improve. The ancient demonic text they adhered to made the Arrancar Institute famous for its severity. Its harshness was inevitable, as it aimed to strengthen the Clan by retaining only the most talented. The program was held every ten years, ensuring only the best remained.

The ten-year intervals aimed to introduce fresh talent from the younger generation, stimulating competition with the older one. Surprisingly, the training proved highly effective. It was inevitable that those who survived would become aces in their own right, able to hold themselves accountable and equipped to protect themselves across all of the Salamander Continent. 

The reason to attempt such arduous training, which walks the tightrope of life and death, is simple: becoming an ace can overcome any pre-existing status and make a name for oneself and their loved ones.

In the pursuit of power, strength, honor, wealth, and fame, shortcuts are nonexistent. This truth held firm even for the most brilliant talents among the gathered youths. Out of a thousand children entering the institute, only a hundred would emerge alive. One-tenth, precisely—that was the survival rate. Yet, even harder than surviving was the task of identifying the most supreme talents among them to become aces. Amidst the rigorous training, certain youths continuously overcame setbacks, proving themselves to stand out.

"Who among the batch of youth has been eye-catching?" Mei Tai wouldn’t be the only person interested; the higher-ups wanted the director and her subordinates to keep their eyes peeled too.

When Mei Tai was briefed a year ago, her assistant mentioned three particular children to her. Even if they stood out, they wouldn’t get any kind of special treatment. One could die at any time here. Just because one won the battle doesn’t mean he or she won the war.

That was the cruel reality they faced.

Mei Tai smacked her lips in curiosity, wondering if any new talents had surfaced apart from those three. Her thoughts were interrupted by her assistant, who stood beside her, glancing at a status before tilting his glasses and answering earnestly.

"As mentioned before, CHETH, SETH, and DALETH continue to stand out among their peers," he said.

His examination was meticulously calculated. He had a handsome, low-cut, dark-haired, slender physique with brown eyes, pointed ears, and one horn at the edge of his forehead. All these features shimmered under the dim lighting, accentuating his intelligent temperament.

“So all of them are still keeping up huh?” Mei Tai nodded as she heard her assistant report.

Upon entering the institute, each batch consisted of a thousand children. They had to relinquish their real names, identities, relatives, and conscience. Instead, they were assigned 'Arrancar names' based on their talents and potential among their peers. The most talented and promising individual was known as CHETH, while the least talented and most pathetic was labeled AIN.

‘Hm... SETH—.’

Mei Tai tapped her sharp yet neat fingers rhythmically, recalling SETH's Arrancar name for certain reasons, despite her talent rivalling CHETH's. Given her background, failure was not an option. One of the surprises was DALETH, named after Arrancar's Lunar month, standing out among the children.

‘His resolve must be impressive.’

Mei Tai finished her thoughts on DALETH and covered the report, asking casually, "Anyone else except those three?"

Mei Tai elegantly sipped her coffee. The assistant hesitated at the director’s question before responding, "Well, perhaps... GIMEL—"

At the mention of GIMEL, Mei Tai spluttered her coffee in surprise. "What?! GIMEL? You mean that Half-breed Fox-girl?"

In other words, a child of a Demon and a Nine-tailed Fox, a Nin.

The assistant reluctantly nodded. He understood why Mei Tai, the Dean of the Institute, was more confused than surprised. GIMEL was a name typically given to those with little talent, more suited to a half-breed. Such children were often expected to perish early, serving as warnings to the more talented ones, rather than becoming Clan members.

Yet GIMEL, a half-breed Nin child, had not only survived but had stood out. This was unprecedented in the institute's history. With only five hundred children remaining alive, Mei Tai wanted answers about what was happening with GIMEL.

The assistant sensed Mei Tai's concern and continued to explain his findings. 

"About a year ago, GIMEL, the half-breed Demon-Fox girl, began to show remarkable changes…”

— — — — — 

“Argh!”

Inside the exquisitely constructed, dimly lit room with a solitary window, a young girl with shoulder-length bright green hair and upright, triangular ears; pointed, slightly downward let out a groan. Her nine fluffy, soft tails stretched out behind her. She appeared to be around nine years old.

With an exhausted look etched on her face, she collapsed to the ground a few meters from the 75 cm wide and 190 cm long white bed. Her bushy tails stood on end. The floor was tiled and rigid, and all her muscles were sore.

She was so exhausted that she just wanted to sleep right away. Her long lashes quivered, and her eyelids felt as heavy as iron bars. She could clearly feel her bones and muscle fibers screaming for rest. Any other Nin would have dozed off immediately, but she wasn’t just any kid.

“I can’t fall asleep right now.”

The Nin rose from the ground and moved to the dusty mirror in the corner. She turned on the magical fluorescent beads lamp by her bedside. As the lamp flickered to life, the medium-sized room was dimly illuminated. It was clear this chamber wasn’t her real home; it was just another plain white room each child received upon entering the Instituto Del Arrancar. This place had become quite familiar to her.

With the room lit, the Nin returned to her seat and leaned against the plain white wall. The unusually frigid wall aroused her drowsy mind and body, helping her tap into her five senses.

GIMEL closed her emerald eyes and sank deep into her thoughts.

“Just over a year has passed.”

GIMEL, the demon-fox girl, was actually the reincarnation of Clare Ederson, the deceased Heavenly Saintess from the Holy Church. Clare had been betrayed and killed brutally by her best friend and the other nine saints for trivial reasons. When she first woke up in this new body, she couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“I definitely died.”

Clare knew better than anyone what her own ending had been like. The situation was something she couldn’t dare try to understand again. Having awoken in this body a year ago, it was incredibly disorienting at first. Why would a person who died in her mid-hundreds be in the body of a scrawny demon-fox child with nine fluffy tails? Though the tails were comforting, that wasn’t the point. She also had new memories that weren’t hers, memories of escaping as a lost Nin breed during a mysterious disaster and trekking through thick and thin to end up at the edge of the Salamander Continent, in the Demon Clan.

Who could possibly explain what had happened? After contemplating for a year, Clare concluded that she didn’t know why she was there. However, if anything could explain this, it would be... Clare’s thoughts trailed off as her gaze fell on a small, antique crystal necklace around her neck. It was the same emerald-blue necklace she had worn just before she died.

The artifact of the 13th god, Kyūbi no Kitsune.

It wasn’t just an imitation but the real deal. At first, Clare thought it was just a similar necklace. However, as the former heavenly saintess of the Holy Church, she couldn’t mistake the treasured artifact from ancient Holy texts. She had worn this necklace for over fifty years in her previous life.

Clare knew by touching the emerald-blue crystal with her fingertips. Her existence as a Saintess was to prioritize the lives of those in need and to find the quickest way possible to save them, even without a divine being, even in this life. However, it didn’t explain why she was in the body of a scrawny Nin child in the institute of Arrancar of the Demon Clan, the most powerful of all the inhuman races.

Clare had a hunch as to why she was here. Perhaps she was just finding somewhere to lay her head since she was half demon. Or maybe she was following some story from her mother or father, either a demon or a fox.

Whatever the case, the real question was what power this necklace had to interfere with her destiny and place her here. Clare bit her teeth in frustration at this mysterious power interfering with her for a second time.

Letting out a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Her tails, which had been stretched out, curled as the cold temperature relaxed her mind. Even as she went through the grueling training of the Clan with this child’s body, she practiced techniques from her previous life.

“It’s still not nearly enough.”

Clare eventually gave up trying to understand the impossible forces moving her and focused on what was in front of her. She couldn’t find any true purpose in this life for over a year. Even if she thought about it for a while, nothing would change unless she did something to improve.

It was clear what she needed to do. The faces of the archbishop, the other saints, and the saintess who betrayed and brutally murdered her filled her mind. By comparing the memories between GIMEL and her old self, she knew it had been about ten years since her death. Those betrayers were surely still alive.

‘Wenceslas, Blanche, Isode… I’ll rip you all apart for what you did to me! I’ll make sure you never respawn again.’

Clare bit her lower lip until it bled as she recalled their faces. The faces of all the other nine saints, first-order knights of the Clover Kingdom, and others who managed to inflict minor wounds on her tender body came to mind.

They would die at her hands as well.

‘With my wish coming true, having another chance at vengeance, I can’t mess this up!’

Determined to get revenge, Clare assessed her situation. Her body was untrained and frail, not even a speck of holy power when she first awakened. She had woken up in the institute of Arrancar within the Demon Clan.

The body of an untalented Nin wasn’t a problem. She had changed that much through her own training and hard work.

There were many holy mana accumulation techniques throughout Salamander, including some that could help grow a foxy body suitable for retaining Holy power. Clare happened to know one of those techniques.

Lotus: Mithril Soul and Body Reinforcement.

This technique grew yin and yang in one’s soul and physique through hidden channels by restricting physical growth. It molded the body to become as firm as Mithril while slowing down one’s growth.

Despite the burdensome conditions, the user would possess a soul imbued with holy power and a physique as sturdy as Mithril. This was the essence of the body reinforcement technique Clare was using. It was jarring and annoying to grow slowly in size, height, and appearance due to stunted growth, but she had no choice; it was the only technique compatible with her new body.

It was an incredible yet flawed technique that she found in a labyrinth near a tall tombstone. Clare concluded the technique came from an ancient, extinct civilization that acted as a gatekeeper for the ancient text monument—a musty, cracked stone tablet.

The effects of the Mithril Soul and Body Reinforcement were showing quickly, but the hidden channels connecting her soul were slow to change her from within, like pouring hot water into a cracked glass mug.

The process wasn’t easy. It should take at least eight years to grow her body and soul into a perfect holy power retainer—needed to reach her old level. Although slow, the body of GIMEL, now Clare, had steadily grown.

Clare caressed her fluffy tails as she pondered. The chilly walls relaxed her rigid body.

Some tangible results were finally starting to show. Letting out a deep breath, she wondered if she had solved the physical and frail vessel problems with this technique.

"But I just had to revive here, didn’t I?"

Demon Clan.

It was a little ironic and comical to Clare. She grasped one of her bushy tails firmly, and an unfathomable shock ran through her whole body. If someone was writing the script of destiny beyond the skies, they surely liked to tell jokes.

The Monster race. In other words, in the Holy Church, they would openly despise and condemn inhuman species, calling them ‘kaijuu.’

Clare felt the image of her former self smiling at her, stimulating emotions in her foxy heart. She had lived an earnest and loving life, helping powerless people, villages, and kingdoms, taking them in—those who had nothing to live for. What she did was nothing short of a miracle, giving them a purpose to live on without waiting for a saint, saintess, or divine being that would arrive late, demand rewards, or couldn’t heal the populace due to insufficient holy power. Even medicinal treatments were insufficient. But that life had been torn apart by the people of the Holy Church.

‘I really can’t believe I’m here, of all places…’

Clare smiled faintly as she retracted her hands from her fluffy tails, which curled freely. However, there were always two sides to every story, and she had never condemned anyone. After all, everyone has their own coincidences, situations, and destiny.

Clare just conquered them and gave them a purpose instead of being slain for EXP by system-hosted Knights, saints, and saintesses. The Demon Clan and even the monster race as a whole were different than how the Holy Church, Guilds, and Kingdoms portrayed them.

Yes, they might be condemned as inhuman, impure, and evil, but even they had been wronged by someone in the past, leading them to hate and declare humans unworthy. Clare focused back on observing her internal circuitry and the total holy power she possessed. Even though she had just come into this new body a year ago, she had accumulated around half a pseudo chain.

As her hidden identity was that of the deceased Heavenly Saintess of the Holy Church, she needed to stay to pursue her lonely and bloody road of vengeance alone. She was making steady progress and shouldn’t complain too much. If anyone else had her otherworldly knowledge at nine years old, they would be an unheard-of prodigy.

At first, Clare felt disgusted about rejoining the Demon Clan, but she knew from her past that not all demons were ‘inhuman.’ Maybe this is a good thing. Since she had to walk her foxy path of vengeance alone, it might not be such a bad idea to take all she could from here before she left. On top of all the knowledge she gathered, she always emphasized superiority over authority.

If she were to use a so-called ‘authority’ attitude with a mid-level holy power accumulation technique and stubbornly challenge her enemies as she did in the past, it would all be for naught. Clare decided that keeping the secret of the ancient holy texts that emphasized superiority and taking a new path would be necessary. She had to get stronger than anyone else.

… Strong enough to decide another’s fate. Like the fate of those who caused her death.