The way of the fist

"And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen! The moment we've all been waiting for—the grand Spring Tournament is about to begin!"

"Ice creams, Donuts! Everything to spectate the fighters!"

The Colosseum buzzed with energy, its towering stone walls barely containing the excitement of the spectators flooding in. From seasoned warriors to curious travelers, everyone had gathered to witness the legendary fighters clash for glory.

The sun cast its golden rays over the arena, illuminating the pristine sand at its center. In mere moments, it would be the stage of legendary battles that would go down in history. Among the crowd, whispers spread about the competitors, each name carrying a certain reputation.

Although, one came out far more often than the others.

"I'm betting twenty gold on that Tiger Girl."

"Fifty on her!"

The spectators rushed to form some clandestine bets, most of them put on the famous knight of the Monster Lord, the Tiger Girl of the Lightning Strike dojo: Torae Sayaka.

Amidst the growing roar of the audience, the announcer's voice boomed again. "Prepare yourselves for an unforgettable spectacle! Who will rise to claim the title of champion this year? Stay tuned and find out!"

Backstage, the different participants were beginning to prepare. Some of them sharpened their swords, others practiced their moves in air fights, while others simply leisurely waited for the tournament to start.

Meanwhile, outside the Colosseum, a flurry of feathers marked the arrival of a harpy girl named Kyuba. Flapping her wings frantically, she darted through the air with a worried expression. "Oh no, oh no! I'm so late!" she muttered to herself, her heart pounding as the towering arena came into view.

As she landed breathlessly near the entrance, a voice interrupted her panicked thoughts. "Finally, I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

Kyuba froze, her feathers bristling as she turned toward the source of the voice. A figure stepped out of the shadows, their face obscured. "W-Wait, you're—!" Kyuba stammered, taking a step back.

"I'm taking your place, bye…♪" 

With a swift punch to the thorax, the Harpy Girl went down.

Alma Elma smirked, brushing off her knuckles. "Don't worry, I'll make sure your absence doesn't go unnoticed...♪" With that, she stepped over Kyuba's unconscious form and strode confidently into the arena.

At the registration desk, an old man with graying hair and tired eyes glanced up from his clipboard. His gaze landed on her, and his expression shifted to mild surprise. "What's your name?"

Alma Elma leaned casually on the counter, her wings twitching playfully. She tilted her head and flashed him a wink. "Kyuba."

The man frowned slightly, glancing down at his list. "Right… You're on here." He didn't bother to hide his suspicion but seemed too weary to press further. "You can head backstage. We'll call your name when it's your turn."

"Thanks, mister," Alma Elma said with a grin, brushing past him without waiting for a response. She strolled into the waiting area, her presence already drawing attention.

Backstage, the fighters continued their preparations, but Alma Elma stood out. She carried herself with confidence as if she owned the place before stumbling upon her sworn enemy.

"So, you did come," the Tiger Girl welcomed her with a flash of her razor-sharp teeth. "And there I would think you would chicken out."

"Right…" Alma Elma met her gaze with the same intensity. "As if I would pass a chance on dancing with you again…♪"

The two women stood face to face, Alma Elma looking up, and Torae looking down with her arms crossed. The space around them quickly became empty, as the fighters made sure to keep a safe distance between them and the Tiger.

"Well, let's hope we fight each other in the finals," Torae smirked. "But don't expect me to hold back this time."

"I would be disappointed if you did…♪"

With that, both women turned away, heading to their respective corners to await their turn. The air in the room felt charged, the tension spreading among the fighters. Whispers broke out as everyone speculated about the inevitable clash between the two.

"Kyuba, you're entering the arena," a staff member called out ot her in the room. 

She approached him and walked up to him. "Who am I fighting?"

"You'll find out when you step into the arena," the staff member replied, gesturing for her to follow. "Now, please, come with me."

With a knowing smile, Alma Elma trailed after him, her steps unhurried. As she walked, she could hear the growing roar of the crowd. The tournament had officially begun, and with every step closer to the arena, she could feel change with excitement. 

Stepping out into the sunlight, she took a moment to let the cheers and jeers wash over her. The Colosseum was packed, the energy of the spectators mixing with the wind. Her bare toes and her feet only covered by her purple thigh-high socks touched the warm sand of the arena floor as she scanned her surroundings.

Opposite her, the gates creaked open, and her first opponent strode into view. A towering Minotaur Girl, her muscles rippling and her horns pointing straight to the sky, stomped into the arena with a massive battle axe.

"Huh, miss Kyuba…" the staff member standing beside Alma Elma cast her a concerned glance. "You don't have any weapon?"

Alma Elma's smile turned serious as she eyed her opponent. "No need," she replied coolly. Then, with a playful tilt of her head and a wink, she added, "Don't worry, I won't lose."

The staff member hesitated, scratching the back of his head as a faint blush crept up his cheeks. "Well… if you say so. Good luck!"

He quickly stepped away, leaving Alma Elma alone to face her opponent. The Minotaur Girl raised her axe, slamming it into the ground with a thunderous crack that echoed through the arena. The crowd roared in response, their excitement palpable.

Alma Elma's wings fluttered slightly as she rolled her shoulders, and cracked her fingers. "Let's hope I don't make this too quick," she murmured, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Being seen by such a crowd makes me excited…♪"

Across the arena, the Minotaur Girl snorted, steam puffing from her nostrils as she adjusted her grip on the colossal axe, her muscles tensing like coiled springs.

"BEGIN!" The announcer's voice thundered across the Colosseum, accompanied by the sharp snap of his flag descending to mark the start of the fight.

The Minotaur Girl roared, raising her massive axe high above her head and charging forward with all the power of a raging bull. The ground trembled with each step as she closed the distance.

Alma Elma inhaled deeply, her ruby eyes locked on her opponent. The roar of the crowd faded into the background as time seemed to slow. The Minotaur's every move was telegraphed, her muscles rippling as she prepared to bring the axe down in a devastating strike.

And then, in a blur, it was over. 

Alma Elma moved like a wisp of wind, her body vanishing from her spot only to reappear inches from the Minotaur. With a fluid motion, her elbow struck squarely into the Minotaur Girl's chest, the impact thunderous as it forced all the air from her lungs.

The Minotaur's eyes widened in shock as her grip on the axe faltered. She staggered backward, her massive frame trembling before she fell to her knees, clutching her thorax as she gasped for breath.

Alma Elma didn't hesitate. In one seamless motion, she pivoted on her foot, her body spinning with elegant grace. Her foot struck the Minotaur's jaw with a sharp crack, sending the beast reeling back. The force of the blow left the Minotaur completely dazed, her once whole body crumpling to the sand.

The audience gasped, stunned by the swiftness and precision of the fight.

Alma Elma stood over her fallen opponent, her chest rising and falling with the thrill of the moment. She flashed a smile at the roaring crowd, her wings fluttering in the wind as she gave a playful bow. 

The Minotaur girl remained on the ground, her body still, her head spinning from the knockout blow. The announcer's voice rang out, barely audible over the raucous cheers of the spectators.

"KO! Kyuba wins!"

Alma Elma's grin widened as she stood tall, basking in the thunderous applause. Without so much as a glance back at her fallen opponent, she blew multiple kisses at the crowd. Her tail lazily fluttered as she strutted back toward the backstage. 

The cheers and shouts of admiration followed her as she made her way off the arena floor, leaving the Minotaur Girl defeated in mere seconds. She could feel the rush of excitement, her heart still pounding in her chest, as the adrenaline of the fight coursed through her veins.

Backstage, the other fighters watched her walk past, some in awe, others in clear disbelief at how quickly she had ended the match. Alma Elma barely spared them a glance, already focused on the next round, her mind humming with the thrill of victory.

"Now that was fun," she muttered to herself with a satisfied smirk.

The other fights of the qualifiers went as quickly as the first. The staggering speed and precision of Kyuba's attacks were unmatched, leaving her opponents no time to react. The crowd cheered wildly after each win, their excitement growing with every knockout.

Soon enough, she became the unexpected underdog of the tournament, with bets placed on her. 

Backstage, the atmosphere had shifted. Fighters whispered among themselves, exchanging looks of disbelief and apprehension. Word had quickly spread that Kyuba was not to be underestimated, and anyone who thought they could take her down was in for a rude awakening.

A succubus, fighting one on one with her bare fists against the strongest monsters? It was unbelievable.

Alma Elma, for her part, remained unfazed by the growing tension around her. She had faced tougher opponents before, and this tournament felt like nothing more than a warm-up. Her only focus was on the quarter-finals. 

She heard the announcement for the next round, but she didn't rush. She carefully prepared herself, tightening her gloves and clothes to their maximum before stepping out into the arena once more. 

"Let's see who's the next one," she murmured to herself as she clashed her knuckles together. 

"First fight of the quarter-finals," the announcer raised his voice to be heard above the cheers. "The promising underdog of this tournament, the deadly beauty who fights with her fists, Kyuuubaaaa!"

The crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and applause.. Alma Elma stepped into the arena with grace as she surveyed the sea of faces.

"KYUBAAA" A familiar voice erupted, making her turn her head.

Alma Elma's smile widened as she spotted Sally in the crowd, the familiar face of her friend providing a reassuring sense of support. "Sally!" she called out, her voice carrying through the arena, though it was barely audible over the roar of the crowd. She blew a playful kiss toward her, knowing her friend would appreciate the gesture.

Sally, sitting at the bottom of the bleachers, waved her arms enthusiastically, cheering even louder. "Kick some ass, Kyuba!"

Alma Elma gave a small nod in acknowledgment, feeling a surge of excitement ripple through her. With Sally cheering her on, she felt more determined than ever to prove that she could take on anything, even the strongest of opponents.

The announcer's voice broke through her thoughts. "And now, her opponent! A seasoned warrior, captain of the guard of Grand Noah, the one and only Dullahan of glory and honorary knight of the Monster Lord—"

"Does it ever end…?" Alma Elma raised an eyebrow as the announcer's voice seemed to stretch on indefinitely, introducing her opponent with an impressive string of titles. She gave a small, playful roll of her eyes, leaning slightly on one leg as she waited for the grand reveal.

"—Lancelot!" The tension thickened as a towering, armored figure emerged from the gates on the opposite side of the arena. Clad in shining plate armor that caught the sunlight, a massive sword strapped to her back, the figure was an imposing sight. A knight, no doubt, and by the looks of it, one who had seen countless battles.

"Impressive," Alma Elma muttered under her breath, her wings fluttering lightly behind her. She stretched her arms, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Lancelot's helmeted face was a mask of calm determination as she stepped into the arena, her gaze locking onto Alma Elma with unwavering intensity. "So you are Kyuba, good job arriving here."

"My, thank you…♪" 

"This will be my last tournament, as I will soon retire. Please, let's have a good match," the dullahan bowed slightly in respect.

"You retire, huh? How fitting," Alma Elma mused aloud, her voice playful but edged with respect. "I'll make sure you'll remember this match then."

The towering figure of Lancelot unstrapped her sword, the steel of the massive blade catching the light as she swung it into position with effortless strength.

"My sword won't fall easily," Lancelot said, her voice strong and steady through the helmet.

"Let's see if you can catch me with such a big blade."

The crowd held its breath, the tension palpable, as the two fighters faced off—one an imposing knight, the other a deadly beauty who had stunned every opponent thus far. 

"Ready… FIGHT!" The announcer raised his flag to mark the beginning of the battle.

The moment the signal was given, Alma Elma's wings flared, and with a burst of speed, she darted forward. Lancelot's eyes narrowed, her massive sword coming down in a sweeping arc aimed directly at the agile succubus.

Alma Elma effortlessly sidestepped the strike and followed with a spin-kick aimed for the dullahan's head.

Lancelot ducked slightly, narrowingly avoiding the kick before bashing the succubus with her shoulder. Alma Elma blocked the strike with her forearm but the momentum made her slide against the sand. 

With the strength of her toes, she gripped the ground and stopped the sliding. Lancelot's grip tightened on her sword and she swung low, aiming to cut Alma Elma's only leg touching the ground.

Alma Elma's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as Lancelot's sword came slashing low, aiming to take her leg. In a fluid motion, Alma Elma lifted her leg, narrowly avoiding the blade's deadly arc. With a powerful flap of her wings, she soared above the dullahan, her body twisting mid-air as she prepared to strike.

As she descended, her foot shot forward, aimed squarely at the back of Lancelot's head. However, to Alma Elma's surprise, the dullahan's head spun 180 degrees, her eyes locking onto the incoming kick. With remarkable speed, Lancelot raised her sword to block the strike, the clash of steel ringing through the arena.

Alma Elma grinned, her body still in the air as she quickly adjusted her trajectory. She tucked her legs in and rolled, using the momentum to land gracefully on the sand just behind Lancelot. Without skipping a beat, she darted forward, attempting to land a blow to Lancelot's exposed side.

But Lancelot was quick despite her heavily armored body. The dullahan spun, her sword came crashing down, aiming for the succubus's torso. Alma Elma ducked low, her knees grazing the sand as a strand of hair was cut by the sword. She retaliated with a quick jab to the opponent's midsection, her fist connecting the armor with a sharp thud.

Lancelot grunted but didn't give ground, her sword coming up for another heavy strike, aiming to overwhelm Alma Elma with raw strength.

Using the wind, Alma Elma got out of the way quickly, and the sword came crashing down, splitting the ground beneath.

Alma Elma's feet touched the ground lightly as she darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the shockwave created by the force of Lancelot's strike. She could hear the dullahan's heavy breathing through the helmet, and despite the sheer weight and power behind each swing, Alma Elma was beginning to sense a crack in her opponent's otherwise unyielding defense.

Besides, she had already found the dullahan's weakness. 

Her helmet isn't attached to her body, which means…

A wicked smile spread across Alma Elma's lips as she licked them. With light steps, she strutted around Lancelot, before leaping with a cat-like movement from the side.

"I won't let you!" Lancelot, sensing the shift in her opponent's behavior spun violently and swung her sword horizontally. But Alma Elma was faster. With a quick hop, she twisted in mid-air, rising above Lancelot's head, just out of reach of the sword. Before Lancelot could recover, Alma Elma reached down with a swift hand, grabbing the dullahan's helmet.

The crowd gasped as Alma Elma pulled it free and tucked it between her breasts, effectively blocking the dullahan's sight.

"W-Wait! I can't see!" the body of the dullahan spun aimlessly as she had now blocked all vision from the head. The lack of vision left her vulnerable, her massive sword swinging blindly as she struggled to keep herself balanced.

Alma Elma made sure to lock the head between her breasts before launching herself for her final attack. With a swift motion, Alma Elma launched herself forward, her body propelled by the strength of her wings. She closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, landing a powerful Dragon Knee to Lancelot's side.

The impact was bone-shaking. Alma Elma's knee collided with the dullahan's armored ribs, the force of the blow cracking through the metal with a loud, resounding crunch. The armor groaned in protest as it buckled under the pressure, the protective plates splintering from the sheer force of the attack.

Lancelot's body recoiled from the strike, her grip on her sword faltering for a moment as she gasped for breath. The crack in her armor was a telling sign that the fight was nearing its end. Her legs buckled slightly, and she stumbled forward, dazed and vulnerable.

"Stop breathing like that, it tickles…♪" Alma Elma giggled, teasing as she felt the rush of air from the helmet brushing against her skin.

Alma Elma stood tall on one leg, poised and ready for the final strike. With a resounding crack in the arena, her foot collided with the armor once more, sending it flying against one of the walls of the Colosseum. 

The crowd erupted in cheers. Alma Elma stood in the center of the arena, breathing evenly, her wings fluttering lightly with the satisfaction of another flawless victory. She freed the helmet from her breasts and looked at it with a teasing smile. 

"Looks like it's my win, Lancelot."

However, she was out of commission and she could only hear a slight groan of pain coming out of it. She delicately put it down near her body and blew another kiss at the crowd before exiting the arena.

Now, she could finally head to the semi-finals.

"It's amazing that you made it this far," Sally said with a proud smile, offering a snack to Alma Elma as she settled down backstage.

Alma Elma accepted the snack with a playful grin, glancing over at her friend as she bit into it. "Thanks, Sally. That last fight was a bit harder, but really, it was still pretty easy."

A little reprieve was offered to the contestants as the semi-finals approached. Each remaining challenger had the chance to talk to someone, and of course, Sally decided to stop by. 

"By the way, could you hold on to my cape?" Alma Elma asked as she munched on her bread.

"Your cape? Why?"

"I really like it but I want to be as light as possible for these next fights," she explained. "Especially for that Tiger. I don't want to leave it there, so could you take it?" she handed over the royal blue cape.

Sally laughed lightly but took the cape, draping it over her arm. "Of course, I'll hold onto it."

Alma Elma smirked as she wiped her hands. "Thank you… Now, go back to your place, the semi-finals are going to start soon."

"Want any info on the next person?"

"No need. I'll handle it as usual."

Sally nodded, a grin still on her face as she adjusted the cape. "Got it, I'll be cheering for you from the stands. Go show them what you're made of!"

Alma Elma gave her a confident nod before sending her off. She remained there, mentally preparing herself for the fight she anticipated the most. She stretched for a while before the announcer's voice echoed through the arena, signaling that the semi-finals were about to begin.

She walked towards the entrance with a casual air and gave a wink at the staff member before stepping out to the arena.

The announcer's voice boomed once more. "And now, for the first match of the semi-finals! The undefeated beauty, the deadly fist of Kyuba!"

The crowd erupted into cheers as Alma Elma waved, her confident smirk never leaving her face. She took a moment to soak in the atmosphere, the eyes of the spectators all on her.

The gates on the opposite side creaked open, and Alma Elma braced herself, eager to face the challenge that awaited her. 

"On the opposite side, the only human arriving so far in the tournament, a hero that stopped a war by himself…" The announcer's voice echoed through the arena, adding to the suspense.

"A human?" Alma Elma's eyebrow shot up in surprise. Of all the heroes she had defeated, none could have passed the Minotaur Girl or even the Dullahan Girl, even Mark the strongest she had met was pathetic compared to them.

She smirked. "Well, this will be interesting," she murmured under her breath. Her curiosity piqued, Alma Elma watched as the human figure slowly emerged from the gates on the opposite side.

The figure was a man, but not just any man. His presence was commanding, his movements calculated and precise. He was dressed in lightweight, worn leather armor, and his expression was stoic, as if he had faced countless trials and emerged victorious.

The crowd hushed as the human warrior stepped into the arena, and Alma Elma couldn't help but assess him critically. He didn't seem like much—his build was toned but not overly muscular, his stance more calculated than aggressive.

"And here he is," the announcer continued, "the man who defied the odds and came this—the mute swordsman, Galla!"

Galla? Alma Elma frowned at the name. It was the same as that famous cursed sword technique user who invented the Death Sword Chaos Star she had heard of during her lectures.

There was no way the man was alive, and yet, there was someone right here presenting himself as him.

"Well, aren't you a mystery," her lips curled into a playful smile as she readied herself. It was now her duty to see if the man was truly mute or not. 

Galla said nothing, his silence unbroken. Instead, he drew his sword with a fluid motion, its polished blade gleaming in the sunlight. It was a simple straight sword, with a blade a bit longer than usual but nothing too dangerous for Alma Elma.

She crouched slightly, her stance loose and ready, her eyes locked onto her opponent. If he was truly a master of the cursed sword, she would find out soon enough.

"And… Begin!" the announcer's voice rang out, and the crowd roared as the semi-final clash began.

Alma Elma darted forward, her movements quick and agile, testing Galla's reactions with a feint jab. His response was immediate—his sword moved with such precision that the air itself seemed to hum. She withdrew just in time, the edge of his sword grazing a strand of her hair as she retreated.

"Oh, you're good… This is going to be fun."

Galla didn't respond, his silence as sharp as his movements. His eyes remained locked on her as he slashed continuously without relenting.

Alma Elma decided to up the tempo. With a dexterous sleight of hand, she deflected most of his strikes and began closing the gap between the both of them. Then, as an opening was created, she launched a quick kick aimed at his shoulder.

Galla moved out of the way just in time before aiming for a stab. But she was ready. With impeccable timing, she caught the blade between her knee and elbow, locking it in place. The crowd gasped at the audacious maneuver as Galla struggled to pull his weapon free.

Her grin widened, her tone teasing as she tightened her hold on the blade. "What's the matter? Can't slash away without it…♪?"

Galla's eyes narrowed, his grip on the hilt tightening as he attempted to leverage his strength to free the blade. Seeing the strength he had put behind, she decided to let go, making the swordsman stumble backward from the momentum. Before he was about to fall, she managed to catch him with her tail, the tip of her tail opened, pressing suggestively against his crotch.

"Aghn…!" The unexpected sensation drew a low, involuntary moan from the stoic swordsman, his eyes widening in shock. He quickly brought a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the sound.

"Oh, looks like you're not as mute as the rumors claim…♪" Alma Elma's chuckle was darkly amused, her hold on him tightening as her tail playfully teased. Her free hand came up to her lips as if to mockingly shush him. "Careful, Galla. If you keep reacting like that, the crowd might start talking."

Galla's face hardened, a faint flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. With a sharp inhale, he tensed his muscles, his grip on his sword firming as he twisted his body to break free from her tail's grasp. Alma Elma's tail unraveled just enough to give him space, her wings fluttering as she sprang backward with a laugh.

"You're not actually Galla, are you?" she said with a playful tone. "I wonder why you're using his name…"

Galla didn't respond, but his stance shifted slightly, his sword raised in a deliberate and defensive posture. His silence, coupled with the tension radiating from his body, only made Alma Elma's smirk grow wider.

"Oh, keeping secrets, are we? How mysterious," she taunted, folding her arms casually as if she were in complete control. "But you know…I have my ways to make someone talk…♪"

The crowd watched in silence, the earlier attack from Alma Elma throwing them off. 

"And as it happens," she continued, licking her lips suggestively, her gaze never wavering from Galla's, "I could use a little snack before facing that Tiger…"

Galla's face turned red and he recoiled slightly from the implications of what she was proposing.

In a blur, she moved right behind him, making him wonder where she went until his eyes met her gleaming red pupils when he looked up.

"Now… How about we put on a show, fake Galla?" 

What followed next was the famous incident that changed the Colosseum for the next years. No one, even monsters ever dared to inflict such shameful acts upon an opponent, but of course, Alma Elma didn't abide by any rules. 

"Ah… Ah… Please stop…!"

All of the spectator's eyes were riveted on the depravity on display. 

"To embarrass such a strong warrior in front of everyone… You truly are ruthless, Alma…" Sally sighed as she watched her friend making her opponent cry out and moan in front of the crowd. She almost felt pity for the guy.

"Mercy, mercy!" the vanquished champion whimpered, face flushed with shame as Alma pinned him down in a full nelson, her tail glued to his crotch and sucking him in a rhythmic rhythm.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet," Alma purred, her tail tightening its grip on the defeated man's groin as she slowly increased the pace of her movements. 

Some of the crowd started cheering, mainly women and monster girls, who clearly enjoyed the show Alma Elma was putting on. 

"Hora, hora…" she whispered in his ear. "What happened to the proud mute swordsman, hm?" As she spoke, her hands roamed his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, making him squirm under her touch.

The announcer stood there, completely aghast at what he was seeing. After a while, he raised his flag and stammered. "K-Kyuba is the victor!"

With a wet, sucking sound, Kyuba released her grip on the man, now reduced to a quivering, exhausted heap on the sand.

"Thank you for the quick snack…♪" she licked her lips and grinned at him before waving at the cheering crowd.

The man she had just drained collapsed completely, his chest heaving with ragged breath and his face pale. He stared blankly at the sky, barely processing what had just happened. 

Around them, the announcer's voice boomed over the excited crowd, attempting to restore order. "Ladies and gentlemen! What an incredible performance! Kyuba advances to the finals! The final match will begin in twenty minutes… Please clear the stage and… uh… someone clean that spot over there!"

The arena staff hurried onto the stage to assist the fallen fighter, while Alma Elma sauntered off with her signature playful strut, winking at the crowd as she went. As she stepped into the hallway leading to the contestant area, a faint smirk remained on her lips.

"Next is the Tiger, huh?" she mused to herself, stretching her arms lazily. "This is going to be fun…"

"You really have no shame, miss…" the staff member who accompanied her this whole time sighed as he handed over a towel for her to wipe away the sweat.

"Are you jealous?" she smirked at him as she took the towel.

The man's face flushed slightly as he stammered, "N-Not really… My wife would kill me if I even thought about it."

"Smart man," she said, tossing the towel back at him with a wink. "You're a good husband."

The staff member could only sigh again, muttering under his breath as Alma Elma continued down the hall.

The finals were coming up soon, and she needed every bit of rest put at her disposition. Every fight thus far had tested her in different ways, but the final opponent—now that would truly test her skills.

She couldn't afford to lose a second time. This time for sure, with the trophy in hand, her mother would be forced to acknowledge her…