The way of the fist

"Damn sand… Get everywhere…" Alma Elma muttered, shaking her boot with irritation as a small avalanche of grit spilled onto the ground. Her fingers brushed at the stubborn grains clinging to her skin, though it felt like a losing battle.

After being so thoroughly humiliated by her opponent, she lay there on the sand for a few minutes before flying back to the oasis, where she could reflect on what happened.

She was just too slow, and too weak. No amount of technique could have beaten that monster. And in the two years she had been traveling the world, her body hadn't been strengthened much. 

She was hitting better, not harder. She moved more precisely, not faster. She also lacked magic training, something she kind of dismissed during her years growing up. 

"Stop running from who you are…" the words of her opponent resurfaced in her mind. It was true that beast-type monsters like her were weak to pleasure, and perhaps using some of the techniques her mother taught her might have turned the fight around. 

But that was out of the question. It didn't matter if some people called her stubborn, she wanted to defeat that Tiger Girl with her fists. 

"For now, I should just go home and rest…" Alma Elma thought out loud. She checked her outfit, only to see that her gloves were in tatters and her corset was also ripped in some areas. She needed a new one.

With that decided, she spread her wings wide and made her way toward Succubus Village. As always, the village was calm, a sleepy little place nestled in the woods. Compared to the bustling streets of Grand Noah or the lively markets of Sabasa, it felt almost stifling. But tonight, Alma Elma didn't mind. She landed lightly on the cobblestone path leading to her home, the soft glow of lanterns guiding her way.

"Boring little village," she murmured with a small smile. "But at least it's quiet."

Tomorrow she'd decide what came next. Tonight she'd rest, focus, and finally, she would start thinking about what it would take to close the gap between her and that Tiger Girl. While humming a song, she pushed the knob and entered the house. 

Her mother, Elira, was sitting at the table, a bundle of yarn in her lap and knitting needles clicking softly in her hands.

Elira glanced up, her soft red eyes immediately catching the state of her daughter's clothes. Her brow furrowed. "Rough day, I see."

Alma Elma laughed lightly, brushing off the comment. "You could say that~."

Elira set her knitting down and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. "If you stopped having fights, you wouldn't have to change clothes so often."

"Well, don't get your hopes up," Alma Elma replied with a teasing grin. "I'm entering the Grand Noah tournament next."

Elira nodded knowingly, her gaze steady. "So you won't stop your ways, huh?"

"Sorry Mom ~" Alma Elma chuckled before heading downstairs.

Elira watched her go, shaking her head with a resigned sigh. "That girl…" she muttered to herself, picking up her knitting again. Despite her words, a faint smile lingered on her lips. Alma Elma's unrelenting spirit reminded her so much of herself in her younger years.

Not long after, Alma Elma returned, climbing back up the stairs in a fresh set of clothes. The snug black corset and new gloves highlighted her readiness for action, her wings twitching with energy. She plopped into the chair directly across from her mother, resting her chin on her arm and giving Elira a mischievous smile.

"Comfortable?" Elira asked dryly, not looking up from her knitting.

"Very," Alma Elma replied, her grin widening. She watched her mother's hands move with practiced precision, the soft clicking of the needles filling the silence.

After a moment, Alma Elma spoke again, her tone quieter. "You know, you could come to watch the tournament if you want. It might be fun."

Elira glanced up, her red eyes meeting Alma Elma's. "We both know I hate to see you fight like that."

Alma Elma smirked and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms. "I know. Although… I lost today."

Elira's hands paused mid-stitch, her surprise evident. She set the needles down gently, studying her daughter's face. "You lost?"

Every time she came back home, it was to announce a victory, not a defeat. In hindsight, it was quite obvious as defeat in this world meant most of the time death. While she had grown accustomed to seeing her go and come back from time to time, the gnawing feeling that she might not show up again was still there.

"Yeah," Alma Elma admitted, her tone unusually subdued. "Got knocked around pretty good. I'm lucky it didn't end worse."

"You're not hurt, are you?" 

"Just my pride," Alma Elma said with a shrug, though her smirk lacked its usual spark.

Elira exhaled slowly, her gaze softening. "You're lucky, then." She picked up her knitting again, but her hands moved slower now. "I still wonder why you show mercy to those you defeat yourself, knowing it might not be the case on their end."

Alma Elma leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she considered her mother's words. "Guess it's just who I am. Besides, if they come back and beat me fair and square, it'll mean I've got something new to learn."

Elira raised an eyebrow, her needles clicking softly again. That's being too soft, Alma Elma," she said with a sigh. She paused her knitting and set the needles down, locking eyes with her daughter. "See, a hero arrived in this village recently. He said he'd been defeated by a succubus with purple hair and figured you'd be here."

Alma Elma's smirk disappeared, her posture straightening as her wings twitched involuntarily. "A hero?"

Elira nodded, her expression serious. "He tried to find out about us, asking all sorts of questions. Fortunately, the villagers drove him out before he learned anything useful. But it was close, Alma Elma—too close."

Alma Elma's gaze darkened, her fingers tapping the armrest of her chair. "I didn't think he'd have the guts to come this far. Most of them don't."

"Well, this one did," Elira said firmly. "And it's because you let him live."

Alma Elma's gaze dropped. She knew her mother was wrong, but that didn't mean she was entirely wrong either. In a sense, some of these heroes defied her of their own will, knowing the risks. 

"You lost because you lack the strength to kill," Elira said coldly, her eyes never leaving her daughter's face. 

Alma Elma chuckled dryly, looking up to meet her mother's unwavering gaze. "As if you knew how it went."

Elira's expression remained stern. "I killed a lot of heroes, Alma. Hesitation is defeat."

"That's—" Alma Elma's breath caught in her throat. Those were the same words written in her book. She knew well how being merciful towards others was foolish as a wandering warrior like herself. Still, she couldn't bring herself to kill anyone who she challenged.

"Most of them, I challenged them myself," Alma Elma explained. "Wouldn't it be a bit awful to kill them afterward?"

"Then don't kill those you challenge yourself," Elira sighed. "At least if you don't think they are a threat to monsters. But those who challenge you willingly, do not hesitate. This is what it means to be the queen of succubi."

Alma Elma chuckled at her mother's last words. "I am not a queen though…"

Elira didn't smile. Her tone was as resolute as ever. "You may not wear a crown, but that doesn't change the blood in your veins."

Alma Elma frowned, her eyes widening progressively before freezing. "What are you…"

"I am the current queen, yes," Elira bitterly sighed. "I tried to raise you into a proper successor, but every time you defied me."

The words hit Alma Elma harder than she expected, her heart pounding in her chest as her mother's admission sank in. Her wings twitched uncomfortably, and she stood up, stepping back from the table as if trying to distance herself from what she said.

"You're kidding, right?" Alma Elma's voice shook. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because being a queen is…" Elira's eyes turned into a pained expression. "It's not easy. Especially now…"

"What? What's going on?"

Elira looked down at her hands, the knitting needles still clutched in her fingers, though her attention seemed miles away. "The queen of succubi is a forbidden fruit, Alma," she smiled. "She is supposed to be unattainable, mysterious, a perfect seductress both in the arts of manipulation and sexcraft."

But now, she loved a man. While Alma Elma was away, her days became far more empty, and with it, the need to fill them with something. So, she decided to travel from time to time, while her daughter was away, until she found a certain man living near Yamatai.

However, as queen…

"I cannot love him," she said with a stern tone. "Do you understand now? This is what you need to be."

In truth, she was doubting herself those same words. But the teachings of Minagi were absolute, and if she wanted to love him, she needed to pass the title on to someone else or become human herself.

"You're joking," Alma Elma rolled her eyes in frustration. "You're telling me you love a man now? All of my life you told me they were just as good as food."

"That's… not true."

"And now you're giving me this hypocritical speech about how you hate your role as a queen? Why not just throw those stupid teachings away and live with the man you love?"

"It's not that simple, Alma Elma," Elira said, her voice strained. "I cannot simply abandon everything I've known. There are consequences."

"I don't understand," she murmured. "You raised me to follow these rules, these traditions. And now you want me to take your place, to take the title you're so desperately trying to throw away? What if I don't want it?"

 "I know you don't want it, sweetie…" Elira retreated under her daughter's piercing eyes. "But if you cannot accept it... then I must let go of my love, or... I must let go of everything else."

"This is absurd. I still don't get why being a queen stops you from loving him."

"Because this is what it means to be a succubus!" Elira stood up, anger rising in her voice. "This is what Minagi taught us, and if I stray from that path then… then…" she lowered her voice just as quickly, her thoughts mixing in a mess.

"Then I shall crush these traditions with my fist," Alma Elma growled, her anger flaring as well. 

Elira looked up sharply, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and something that almost resembled hope. "You don't understand—"

"No, you don't understand!" Alma Elma interrupted, her wings flaring behind her. "We're succubi, aren't we? Isn't the whole point that we're supposed to be free? To live how we want, to take what we want? Yet here you are, bound by rules made by someone else. Someone long gone. Well, I refuse to be shackled by the past, and so should you."

Elira opened her mouth to argue but stopped, the words dying on her lips. Alma Elma was too stubborn to understand how dangerous that kind of thinking could go. A queen who did as she wished wasn't respected, and succubi who didn't respect a queen were as fickle as the wind.

Elira's hands tightened into fists. The fragile balance that held their kind together could crumble in an instant if Alma Elma's wayward thinking spread unchecked. A world where succubi weren't reigned by a queen wasn't a world of freedom—it was chaos. And chaos didn't just threaten the queen; it threatened the survival of their entire race.

"You're naive," Elira finally said, her voice calm.

"Do you think freedom comes without cost? That you can just do whatever you want and everyone will follow? That's not how our kind works, Alma Elma. Without a queen, succubi would tear each other apart.

"I don't care," Alma Elma shot back with a glare. "If the only thing holding us is some teachings from a thousand years ago, then perhaps we evolved backward."

With that, she climbed down the stairs, not sparing a single to her mother before going to sleep. 

Elira didn't follow. She stood rooted in place, her fists trembling at her sides as frustration, worry, and a flicker of guilt coursed through her. Alma Elma's words stung, not because they were wrong, but because there was a part of Elira that feared they might be right.

But that didn't make them any less dangerous.

Still, she would make her choice. It won't be before long until she decides to pass on the title.

As the first rays of the sun shined on the village, Alma Elma left in a hurry. After the disaster that was their conversation last night, she didn't want to have to talk again. The crisp morning air greeted her as she spread her wings and launched into the sky, the wind catching her with ease. Flying always helped her clear her mind, and right now, she needed it more than ever. 

She didn't want to be a queen, but a part of her hated how her mother acted. For all her frustration, Alma Elma couldn't shake the thought: If she hates it so much, why does she cling to it?

If those traditions were making her so miserable, then perhaps she could bring those expectations down. 

But first, she needed to defeat that Tiger Girl. She needed to be faster, and stronger, to train her body to be in tip-top shape for the tournament. First, she headed towards Grand Noah. The city was as bustling as ever, with various monsters living in coexistence with humans, a rare sight.

Alma Elma made her way toward the grand coliseum, a colossal structure at the western edge of the city. Many people and monsters were gathered here, taking a stroll, while admiring some of the future contestants who were preparing outside. 

Once inside the coliseum, Alma Elma approached a registration counter where an old man sat, his hunched figure bent over a sheet of parchment, scribbling names with meticulous precision.

"Hello…♪" Alma Elma greeted in a sing-song voice, her signature smile lighting up her face. But before the old man could acknowledge her, a blur of feathers shoved her to the side.

"Out of my way!" barked a violent Harpy Girl. "Hey, old man! I'm signing up. Name's Kyuba!"

The old man looked up with a tired smile. "You're in luck, miss. This was the last slot for the upcoming tournament." the old man scribbled the name on the sheet of paper. "Kyuba is now officially registered for next month's competition."

Alma Elma's cheerful demeanor faltered for a split second, replaced by a flash of irritation. "Last slot?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief.

Kyuba turned to her with a cocky grin, her sharp talons clicking against the floor as she fluffed her feathers in mock superiority. "Better luck next time, sweetheart," she sneered. "This tournament's for real competitors."

Alma Elma's smile returned, though now it was razor-sharp. "Didn't know chicken could fight…" she said as she licked her lips.

Kyuba froze mid-strut, a visible shiver running down her spine. Her feathery demeanor cracked as her face twisted into a mixture of fear and indignation. Without another word, the harpy spun on her talons and scurried off, wings clumsily flapping in agitation. It was almost pitiful—almost.

Turning back to the old man, Alma Elma leaned on the counter, making sure to emphasize her bust. "So, no more slots, huh? Are you sure there's no way to squeeze in one more name?"

The old man hesitated, sensing the pressure behind her pleasant tone. "Well… there might be a spot if someone drops out or forfeits. But those are rare, miss."

"I see… Thank you mister…♪" she flashed a grin before stepping outside. Now that she knew when the tournament would be held, there was nothing to worry about. She would just have to take the place of another sorry contestant who happened to come with a severe case of brain damage.

Alma Elma's smile returned, wider than ever as she vanished into the crown. It was time to get ready… Or so she thought. As she approached the bustling center of Grand Noah, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Oh? Isn't that Alma Elma?" called Sally from a small shop window, waving an ice cream cone in hand. "Hey there!"

Alma Elma froze, momentarily caught off guard. "Sally?" she muttered, her voice tinged with surprise. It had been years since she'd seen Sally—right before her mother…

The thought of Trish's death momentarily darkened Alma Elma's expression. Pushing the memory aside, she approached Sally, who was sitting at a cozy little table outside the shop. With a casual flick of her tail, Alma Elma pulled out a chair and sat down, making sure not to crush her tail in the process.

"Damn, your tail has grown big, Alma," Sally said with a laugh, licking her ice cream. "What have you been eating? Also, nice cape you got there."

"Training and a little prize," Alma Elma replied with a smirk. "I use my tail often to grab my opponents. What about you?"

"I finally finished my training at the castle," Sally, said holding out the cone. "Want some ice cream? My treat."

Alma Elma leaned back with a teasing grin. "You're treating me? What's the occasion?"

Sally chuckled, shrugging. "Just figured we could catch up. A lot happened after all…"

Alma Elma took the offered ice cream and paused for a moment, letting the cool sweetness melt on her tongue. "True… Things changed a lot, didn't they?"

"Yup," Sally nodded before flagging down the shop owner. "Excuse me, one chocolate ice cream, please." She handed over a few coins before turning back to Alma Elma. "After my mother died, I spent my days holed up in the Monster Lord's castle. Our lord was kind to me."

Alma Elma raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "Kind, huh? That's not something you hear often about the Monster Lord."

"She was," Sally said with a small smile. "She didn't pity me. Instead, she proposed to train me so that it could change my mind. It wasn't easy but…"

Alma Elma leaned forward slightly, her tone shifting. "By the way…" she began, her eyes darting away as if unsure she wanted to ask. "Were you the one that…"

"Killed the merchant?" Sally sighed. "I did, yes. That bastard was hitting on me and bragging about abusing one of the children in the village."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Sally nodded. "I made sure he didn't enjoy it one bit. Though I guess I should've stayed calm instead…"

They both stayed silent for a few seconds, unsure of what to say before Sally clapped her hands. "But let's not talk about that! Let me show you what I learned back at the castle," with a snap of her fingers, she called for the shop owner. "Hey, owner!"

"Yes?" The man's head peeked out of the doorway, curious.

Sally flashed him a mischievous smile and pointed her finger at him. "Minimum Phantasm!" Her finger glowed brightly before firing a magical ray. In an instant, the man began to shrink before their eyes, his panicked yelps fading as his form miniaturized. Within moments, he was small enough to fit in the palm of Sally's hand.

"Ta~Da!" Sally grinned, holding the tiny shop owner up for Alma Elma to see. "Cool magic, right?"

Alma Elma chuckled, folding her arms. "That's impressive, but... little shop owner looks terrified."

Sally blinked, glancing down at the tiny man in her hand. His miniature face was frozen in horror, tiny squeaks of protest barely audible.

"Oh, right!" Sally laughed awkwardly. "Turn back!" With another flash of magic, the shop owner returned to his normal size, trembling as he staggered back into his shop.

"Sorry about that!" Sally called after him with a sheepish grin. "I'll, uh, leave a good tip!"

Alma Elma shook her head, smirking. "You've definitely picked up some interesting tricks. But maybe next time, try it on someone who's not just doing his job."

Sally chuckled with a sly grin. "Don't worry, I've tried it on some who deserved it."

"Oh?" Alma Elma tilted her head, intrigued.

"Let's just say a few thugs learned the hard way not to mess with people smaller or weaker than them," Sally said, twirling a strand of hair with mock innocence. "Though, I think they won't be able to put their lessons in practice…" Her grin faded as she turned to Alma Elma with a curious frown. "By the way, what are you doing here in Grand Noah? Still fighting like a brute?"

Alma Elma smirked, crossing her legs. "I entered the tournament that is coming up next month. I've got an opponent to beat there."

"An opponent to beat, huh?" Sally raised an eyebrow. "I can't imagine someone giving you so much trouble. Sounds serious," Sally said, resting her chin in her hand. "So, who is this mystery opponent?"

"A tiger girl," Alma Elma replied simply.

Sally froze, her expression shifting to one of alarm. "Wait…" she said slowly, her face paling. "Is that the Tiger Girl of the Lightning Strike Dojo?"

Alma Elma's smirk faltered slightly. "You know her?"

Sally nodded, her tone filled with concern. "Yeah, I know her. Just give up, Alma. She's not just any fighter—she's one of the best knights of the Monster Lord."

"One of the best, huh? All the more reason for me to fight her," Alma Elma clenched her fist with determination.

Sally leaned forward, shaking her head. "You don't get it. Your body can't keep up with her strength and speed. And on top of that, pleasure attacks aren't that effective against her."

"I won't use pleasure attacks, so don't worry~" Alma Elma replied with a teasing grin.

Sally sighed in defeat, slumping back in her chair. "You're impossible to reason with. Still, you need to get stronger physically if you even want to have a chance. The difference in physical strength is night and day between a Tiger Girl and a succubus like us."

Alma Elma's playful smile turned serious. "I know that. That's why I'm here—to train and push myself to the limit."

Sally studied her friend for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. She knew Alma Elma was stubborn, but she also recognized the determination burning in her. Even if she lost the fight at the Colosseum, Alma Elma would undoubtedly challenge the Tiger Girl again.

"How about you eat more?" Sally suggested. "I hope you have been eating properly."

Alma Elma tilted her head with a sly grin. "I've been playing with some heroes from time to time…"

"Eh?" Sally's face paled with shock. "Heroes? But they're baptized, right?"

"Yeah…" Alma Elma admitted, wrinkling her nose. "They taste very weird."

Sally facepalmed, letting out a groan. "You're not supposed to feed on them! Baptized semen is like… So disgusting!"

Alma Elma nodded. "I agree."

"Then why do you keep doing it?!" Sally snapped, her teeth gritted in frustration as she stood up and bonked Alma Elma on the head.

"Hey!" Alma Elma yelped, rubbing the spot where Sally had struck her.

"Go find some proper guys!" Sally scolded, her hands on her hips. "If you're serious about getting stronger, you need to stop messing around with baptized heroes! They're not good for you!"

Alma Elma pouted, leaning back in her chair with a mock look of hurt. "But it's fun to play with strong humans…"

Sally groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Then challenge some that are unbaptized then. Some of them are strong, you know?"

She rummaged through her affairs before pulling out a small branch of a tree. "There, go to the forest of spirits. Train with the wind there, get a good diet, and I'm sure you'll grow stronger."

Alma Elma tilted her head, eyeing the branch with curiosity. "What's with the twig?"

"Oh, this?" Sally waved it dismissively. "It's just something I had to use during my training. Don't worry about it." She tucked the branch back into her bag before giving Alma Elma another playful bonk on the head.

"Now, listen," Sally continued, leaning closer. "I know you're way weaker than her right now, but I believe you can do it. You're the same girl who kept beating me up when we were kids, after all."

Alma Elma smirked at the memory, rubbing the spot Sally had hit. "I didn't think you remembered that."

"Oh, I remember," Sally said with a knowing grin. "So tap into that wild energy you had back then. Return to your roots, and I'm sure you can match her."

Alma Elma sighed dramatically, though her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Fine… I'll listen to you. But that's only because I like you, Sally…♪"

Sally rolled her eyes, though her smile softened. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't get yourself killed, alright?"

"No promises~," Alma Elma teased as she turned to leave, her tail swishing playfully behind her.

"I'll watch you fight! Don't you dare disappoint me!" Sally shouted at her flying friend who disappeared in the sky. "Don't disappoint me or else… I might become the next queen."