"From now on, you’ll have ti to study and learn about your weapon on your own! If you wield sothing like a sword, it's swordsmanship. For spears, it's spearmanship. Archery is for bows and arrows. For any other unique weapons, our glorious instructors will help you with any unfamiliar questions. They will do their absolute best to acquaint you further."
The Senior Instructor spoke to the little Arrancars in a more lenient tone than usual. He wasn’t acting generously without reason, though.
Clare knew why. He was likely hoping to see how many children would survive in half a year. If the children didn’t learn properly, they’d have a hard ti surviving. Even if they did survive, they'd be half-dead. At least, that’s what she thought his creepy motivation was.
All in all, if Clare’s premonition held true, the Senior Instructor was just maintaining his usual elegant ntality, providing him the opportunity to report more details to his superiors.
The other instructors’ eyes, set on the children, shone with a rather frightening look. The children flinched, knowing hard work was next.
Clare, having collected her handout and gripping her scythe, proceeded out of the platform area to a grassland shaded by a beautiful reddish blossom willow tree.
There, she began looking through the handout. In under an hour, she had morized and understood everything, but she read it one more ti to gain more depth.
Since she morized it in ti, she only looked at the book again as a cover for her skills from the prying eyes of the instructors who watched her.
Speaking of morization, the basics of fighting with a scythe flowed through her mind like tidal waves.
Slashing, stabbing, and unpredictable psychological impacts.
With the basics in her imagination, Clare, smiling faintly, picked up her scythe and started to move. As the warm, harmonious breeze blew, fluttering everything in its path, Clare’s dark red demon-illustrated robes danced in the air.
Her long green hair fluttered as well while her busty nine tails stood on end. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she began to release all the tension pent up in her body as the breeze tickled her skin. At that mont, her entire being was like a precious “Aeon Tree”—a demonic jade tree.
With tension relieved, her feet beca light as she delved into her imagination and let it all go wild. Soon, her body moved.
The air trembled as one of the basics of the scythe unfolded. “The Slashing” involved lifting the black scythe, letting it swerve and cut through the air, tearing with sharp yet gentle movents like a curved blade slicing paper. Her tails tensed and curved at the tips, forming a rhythm with her.
These sharp movents sliced falling scarlet leaves into pieces. Instantly, she began the next basics.
“The Stabbing” required Clare’s grip to tighten and change montum. Wrapping the scythe like a conch shell, she stabbed from the top, blasting it down with ferocity.
A single, insignificant scarlet leaf, lost in the waves of billowing fallen leaves, stood on the blade of her scythe. It wasn’t stabbed or slashed but moved with the scythe.
Just like loneliness beca solitude and singularity beca multitude, Clare perford what she had just morized from the handout. More pink leaves began to gather on the scythe's blade, rolling around the curved tip without being stabbed.
Every step was graceful, and her feet synced with her intent. Every move Clare made was with unwavering confidence and precision as if she had wielded a scythe before. She visualized wielding a sword, filtered out flaws and unnecessary movents, and converted it into a suitable style for the scythe.
It was a splendid act that only soone with overwhelming concentration and imagination could pull off. It was beautiful as she did it.
Like dancing to a coordinated opera performance on a grand stage under the crescent moonlight, her muscles, heartbeat, breathing, and blood flow followed a similar rhythm. It beca more evident as she made unpredictable, unwavering “psychological impacts” on a falling leaf, making forty-five unpredictable impacts that stirred the air, turning the leaves to dust.
These were just the three most basic movents of wielding a scythe. However, it differed from the handout. She combined the sword skills she learned in her previous life—parrying, blocking, twirling, and other fundantals—enough to create an infinite unique series within the “Wind Fiery.” There were “Forty” moves within “Chaotic Windfiery of Hellscythe” in the handout, but creating a unique and infinite version added “Ten” extra moves. Overall, there were “Fifty” moves.
Scythe-manship was regarded as the most complex, yet the most revered and enlightened weapon of choice.
The wind blew, and her fluffy ears and tails tingled as the grass shook where her feet moved. The scythe in Clare’s hands moved with elegance, accuracy, and roaring violence. Performing all of this in a quiet and majestic part of the platform beneath the reddish blossom willow tree, Clare succumbed to inner peace.
At least for a brief mont, before a chill tension tickled her ears. Her tails stiffened to this familiar sensation she had noticed before. She was being monitored, albeit extrely discreetly.
Sighing briefly and letting go of the tension, as if she was used to it, she might as well put on a good show for those owl-like eyes. So, she kept on.
Unbeknownst to her, three sets of eyes were secretly watching her every move, each with a different expression. It was none other than the Senior Instructor, Noir, and lastly, SOATH.
— — — — —
SOATH had been constantly looking for a chance at revenge on GIL ever since her humiliating defeat.
Having lived in this world of opportunities with two lives, and being betrayed and murdered by her best friend and companion, GIL knew very well what those people looked like. Those with violent tendencies and little thought usually died young.
Those who plot in the dark take their chances cautiously and only act when necessary. SOATH, on the other hand, wasn’t the brightest child at the institute. She didn’t hesitate to fight with other children or start unnecessary argunts.
She rarely lost to the other children. She was quite large compared to others her age and had been trying her hardest to prepare for dealing with GIL. Of course, her talent was always higher than the other little Arrancars. But SOATH couldn’t bring herself to challenge GIL just yet, as that bloody day was still vivid in her mind.
‘How am I ant to fight that monstrosity?’ she thought, unable to co up with any strategy that would allow her to defeat GIL as a recent collective attack by so of the other little Arrancars failed horribly.
Attempting to employ numbers against GIL proved futile. GIL had distinguished herself from the other children when she smashed the group strike they attempted. What worried SOATH even more was seeing GIL wielding the dark scythe in the corner of the platform as she enjoyed the cool mountain breeze.
It had only been two hours since GIL received the handout on Basic Scythe-manship, and there was no way to read all the complicated content in under two hours. Yet, GIL was shattering all sorts of common sense in SOATH’s head. The way she wielded the scythe was skilled.
Far too skilled.
SOATH sighed deeply and gritted her teeth in rage. ‘Fuck this Nin bitch,’ she thought, never forgetting the sha of being thrashed and humiliated by a Half-breed Nin. Her broken arm, neck, bleeding head, and the private pain from peeing too much still ached. Her body shivered with rage as she imagined grasping both GIL’s tails, hair, and horns and ripping them apart. Whenever she rembered that day, she was still in pain, having nightmares and despair for weeks after, even though the “Demonic Healer” claid there was nothing wrong with her body.
She was going to exact her vengeance no matter what. She only had to play it safe and keep her ambition and rage hidden until the ti was right. Soon, like stormy weather passing away, leaving only tranquil seas, SOATH’s calm expression returned as she let out a deep breath. Only idiots would express their rage and pick a fight when they were clearly outmatched. The creepy and frighteningly talented one called GIL was within SOATH’s eyes.
She just needed to pluck it out.
Secretly gritting her teeth so hard that even a demonic beast would have thought twice, for the first ti in its life.
* * *
“I guess the Half-breed GIL has changed.”
i Tai nodded, elegantly sipping her lukewarm tea as she listened to Edgar Le Nigel, the Senior Instructor in Charge of the Yulin Platform, give his report. It was evident that sothing had changed. This half-breed child, previously judged untalented by i Tai, was now showing visible signs of improvent. Surprisingly, this half-breed Nin was displaying talent comparable to a full-breed Arrancar.
“She shouldn’t have too much trouble passing the Valkyrie-Blitz in half a year,” Edgar continued.
i Tai nodded. The Valkyrie-Blitz of Poseidon Trials was the first gate of trials, symbolizing the Institute of Arrancars. This event was so dangerous that almost half of the little Arrancars would die from the starting trial alone, which was incomparable to the past tests they had faced.
Surviving the fearso Valkyrie-Blitz ant being officially recognized as a “First-Chain Arrancar Pawn” within the Demon Clan. An “Arrancar Pawn” was the lowest of ranks within the Demon Clan, followed by “Arrancar Viking,”“Arrancar Knight and General,” and “Grand Rook,” which was ranked just below the “Twelve Arrancar Grandmasters” and the “Demoness” herself. The “Twelve Arrancar Grandmasters” were rarely seen in public and directly served under the Demoness. However, an “Arrancar Pawn” was by no ans an easy rank to achieve.
Fewer than twenty-five thousand of the two hundred and fifty thousand mbers who made up the entire population of the Clan were able to beco recognized as Arrancar. The Institute of Arrancars was special because little Arrancars under the age of twelve to fifteen could beco ranked.
Reaching that level of weapon-manship and battle prowess in Salamander was very difficult. However, what was even more challenging was that the Institute of Arrancars wasn’t running this program just to create an “Arrancar Pawn.” Obtaining that position required the bare minimum of talent.
The Institute of Arrancars aid to produce “Arrancar Vikings.” Only five thousand mbers of the Clan were strong enough to be called “Arrancar Vikings.” This institute was more special than the previous generations.
‘We need to create a couple of Arrancar Knights. It would be much better if we could create a Grand Rook,’ i Tai thought. However, she realized that expecting to raise an “Arrancar Grand Rook” was unrealistic. She sighed, placing her palm on her forehead, and chuckled lightly. It was quite comical. She herself was barely ranked among the three hundred Arrancar Grand Rooks in the Clan. Even if only one or two were able to reach “Arrancar Knight” levels, it would be regarded as a huge success.
“How’s the preparation going for the Valkyrie-Blitz?” she asked calmly.
She was supposed to ask her assistant this question, but he was away at another Platform to supervise their preparations for the Valkyrie-Blitz and wouldn’t be back for a while. It seed that her assistant had already relayed the preparations of the Valkyrie-Blitz to the Yulin Platform as well.
“According to the Assistant Dean, we sent out so of our own to subdue and train so high-rank demonic beasts in extre and deadly conditions and install them alongside deadly traps within the trial. They will not be low-ranking, pathetic demonic beasts but supre, instinctual ones by the ti the Poseidon trial begins,” Edgar reported firmly.
i Tai nodded pleasantly. She gracefully grasped and sipped her tea.
“I see. Then give those who pass the Poseidon trial the three “Demon Cores of Dead Triton” and unlock the “Demonic Treasure Vault”. After all, those are the prizes the Demoness herself personally authorized,” she added dismissively.
The Senior Instructor, Edgar Le Nigel, shouted with his head down in response to i Tai, the Dean of the Institute of Arrancar’s orders. “Yes, Ma’am!”
“You may leave now.”
The Senior Instructor nodded and walked away.
i Tai sighed, contemplating how difficult her job as the Dean was. She turned her chair to the open-sided window that exhibited the entire lovely panorama of the Institute as the breeze fluttered about.
“What a dreadful job; it’s not at all elegant. Yet, Half-breed Nin—GIL. Can I make you into an Arrancar Knight?” She sighed lightly. “I’ll wait and see.”
Feeling more addicted to her tea, she subconsciously stretched her right hand to pick up her cup and sipped it.
* * *
Half a year had passed within the Institute of Arrancars. During this ti, the young Arrancars had grown accustod to their weapons. They had mastered the fundantals, and the weight of the iron bracers on their arms and legs no longer increased. As a result, they moved much more freely, even with 65kg braces on all four limbs.
In other words, they carried 16.25kg on each limb yet moved as if they weren't wearing the bracers at all. The sa was true for Clare, who had achieved sothing more significant.
‘I have finally perfected the Superiorization of True Deviation technique.’
Previously, she had fused the "Demonic Energy Manifestation Technique" with the "Unification and Amplification of Holy Mana." But only now were the two in sync. Finally, both demonic energy and Holy Mana had beco one.
However, it was still difficult for Clare. Creating her own technique for both Holy Mana and demonic energy was no easy task. Completing a high-level technique was sothing only the greatest legends in Salamander had achieved, like a Demi-god or a Transcendent close to a Saint or…
… a Demonic Saintess.
‘No way,’ Clare shook her head, denying the notion. But her foxy and demonic side sighed, jeering at her denial. Still, this was proof that Clare was making strides toward her revenge.
The most interesting aspect of this technique was a special form of energy Clare could now use. The Shield of Petrification, which she had used to mask her levels and holy power, could now be materialized outside her body alongside her demonic and foxy instincts and senses.
‘Is this the complete version that Wenceslas created?’ Clare was certain this was the developnt Wenceslas sought when she found the half-finished technique in the ruined lab. She had evolved the technique using her unique enlightennt as a half-breed between a demon and a Nine-tailed Fox Nin. She cursed inwardly toward the leading Archbishop. Creating sothing new from experintal notes was a great help from her mother.
‘Mother, thanks for the knowledge!’
As she slamd her palms together in appreciation, she once again felt her mother's warm embrace. Her face filled with happiness, if only for a brief mont. A rueful sensation arose as an odd announcent tickled her ears, and her expression turned indifferent.
The Senior Instructor stood on the grand stage in front of the young Arrancars on the Yulin Platform. Donned in purplish-dark robes with skull embellishnts, he slowly opened his mouth. The air trembled with demonic energy.
“Half of you will die today.”
His eerie statent sent shivers down every child's spine. They wondered what he had planned.
However, the words that ca out of their mouths were quite different from what they felt in their hearts. They had anticipated this day since they began their year at the Institute of Arrancars.
“Huh? For real, I will pass the trial."
"What in the world is going to happen now?"
"Has the day finally arrived?"
"I'm prepared!"
All the confident children murmured to themselves.
Clare’s demonic and foxy side expected this, smiling one-sidedly at their potential deaths. Her side as the Heavenly Saintess finally understood why all demons were such extre masochists, worse than Necromancers, Soulmancers, and Archliches…
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