Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

{Melisa}

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, Melisa and Armia sat side by side, with some books open in front of them. The soft glow of the spirit crystal lamps nearby cast a warm light over their faces.

It was odd. Melisa felt so small around Armia when they first met.

Well, she still did, in a literal sense. But, now, it wasn't a bad thing. Now, as they studied together, Melisa felt a sense of comfort in her presence.

Without really thinking about it, Melisa shifted closer to Armia, their shoulders brushing.

If Armia noticed, she didn't say anything, her focus remaining on the intricate diagrams of spellsigns before her.@@novelbin@@

"I wonder," Armia mused, tapping a clawed finger against the page, "maybe I have to add a few lines to the spell here..."

Melisa leaned in, studying the spellsign with a critical eye. Armia was right. There was definitely room for improvement, but Melisa didn't want to do all the work for her. She knew Armia wouldn't appreciate it if Melisa just gave her the answer.

A thought occurred to her. A question that had been nagging at the back of her mind for some time.

"Hey, Armia," she said, her voice casual. "I was wondering... have you trained at all with weapons?"

Armia blinked, looking up from the book with a startled expression.

"Weapons? No, I haven't. Why do you ask?"

Melisa shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

"I was just curious. So, you're serious about not using weapons at all during the tournament?"

Armia nodded, her expression resolute.

"I am. I want to prove that I can be a true lady, and a true mage. And that means relying on my magic, not brute force."

Melisa frowned.

"But Armia, don't you think you're putting yourself at a disadvantage? I mean, you're a darian. Your strength and resilience are your biggest assets."

Armia's face hardened, a flicker of anger in her eyes.

"And what would you have me do, Melisa? Abandon my principles? Resort to the very thing I'm trying to rise above?" She raised her voice.

[Whoa.]

Melisa held up her hands in a placating gesture.

"That's not what I'm saying at all. I just think... using weapons and your natural strength wouldn't make you any less of a lady. If anything, it would make you an incredibly strong one."

Armia paused.

She looked away, though Melisa could tell the girl was considering her words.

There was a vulnerability in her eyes. Melisa wasn't too sure how to help with that.

But, slowly, Melisa reached out, placing a hand on Armia's arm. She could feel the warmth of Armia's scales... And, well, the firmness of her biceps.

[Wow.]

"I'm just saying," Melisa made her voice softer. "If all else fails, there's no shame in relying on what you already have."

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air between them thick.

Then, slowly, Armia nodded.

"Perhaps you're right," she said softly. "But, I want to try this. At the very least, I want to try being as human as I can be."

---

{Isabella}

The night was dark and cold and awful as Isabella made her way home, her steps heavy with frustration and disappointment.

It had been a particularly long day at the academy, another day of fruitless experiments and missed opportunities.

But worst of all, she had barely seen Melisa! How could she cope!?

As she approached her house, Isabella could see the warm glow of the living room windows. Her mother was home, no doubt waiting up for her as she always did.

Isabella pushed open the door, the familiar scent of home washing over her. And there was Kimiko, lounging on the couch in her usual provocative manner, her silky robe barely concealing her luscious curves.

"Oof!"

Without a word, Isabella draped herself across her mother's lap, burying her face in the soft warmth of Kimiko's breasts. Kimiko laughed. Isabella inhaled deeply, the scent of her perfume filling her nostrils.

Kimiko's hand came to rest on Isabella's head, her fingers gently stroking through her daughter's hair.

"What's wrong, my little vixen?" she purred, her voice, usually so seductive, now tinged with motherly concern. "You seem troubled."

Isabella whimpered, nuzzling deeper into her mother's bosom.

"It's just... everything," she mumbled, her voice muffled. "My experiments are going nowhere. I feel like I'm not making any progress. And Melisa... I barely saw her today!"

Kimiko hummed thoughtfully, her hand sliding down Isabella's back and up again.

"My darling, you are brilliant. I have no doubt that you will figure out your experiments in time. Matters of the arcane often require patience and persistence. Even for our kind."

Isabella sighed, lifting her head to meet her mother's gaze.

"But what if I don't?" she asked. "What if I'm just not good enough?"

Kimiko's eyes softened, a gentle smile curving her lips.

"Let me tell you a story, Isabella. When I was younger, a lot younger than you are now, I thought I had my whole life planned out. I was going to go to a certain village, settle down with your Aunt Margaret, and live happily ever after. We'd made a promise, even," Kimiko noted with giggles, "talking about how we'd get married and have a bunch of our own half-nim, half-kitsune kids."

Isabella blinked.

"You and Aunt Margaret? But what happened?"

Kimiko chuckled.

"Life happened. I ended up in a different village, one I had never even considered before. And there, I met your other mother. It was unexpected, unplanned... but it was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Isabella frowned.

Kimiko rarely talked about Isabella's other mom. And, when she did, it was usually to make some sort of a point.

"What are you saying, Mom?"

"I'm saying that sometimes, life takes us down paths we didn't anticipate. Paths that aren't what we initially wanted. But if we open ourselves to the possibilities, we might find that these unexpected routes lead us to greater happiness and fulfillment than we ever imagined."

Isabella sank, looking away.

[... Should I change my angle, perhaps?]

"Ah, I can see the gears are already turning," Kimiko giggled. "Attagirl. Trust in yourself, my little vixen. Trust in your abilities, and in the twists and turns of fate. Don't fixate on one thing too much. Try different things.

Your talent will take you places, regardless of whether it's the first road you picked out."

Isabella nodded.

[... She's right. How about...]

Isabella's tail swung gently from side to side.

[How about I try something else for a bit?]

---

In the solitude of her room, Isabella went over her notes, her brow furrowed in concentration.

The pages were filled with intricate diagrams and scribbled observations, the fruits of her tireless experimentation. As she flipped through the pages, one particular section caught her eye.

It was a series of notes on the properties of different materials and how they might affect the functionality of runes.

[Hm, I haven't really delved into this aspect much,] Isabella mused, her tail swishing thoughtfully behind her. [Maybe there's something here I've been overlooking.]

Energized by this new avenue of inquiry, Isabella quietly slipped out of her room, taking care not to wake Kimiko.

She padded softly through the house, making her way to the backyard.

The night air was cool and crisp against her skin as she stepped outside. The twin moons hung low in the sky, casting an amethyst glow over the meticulously maintained garden.

Isabella scanned the ground, her keen eyes searching for the materials she needed.

After a moment, she spotted a cluster of rocks near the edge of a fish pond. She scooped up a handful, feeling their rough texture against her palm.

Next, she turned her attention to the trees that lined the property.

With a deft leap (easy for a kitsune), she grabbed a few slender twigs from a low-hanging branch, snapping them off with a satisfying crack.

Armed with her new tools, Isabella settled cross-legged on the soft grass. She held up one of the rocks, examining it closely in the moonlight.

[Let's see...]

With a delicate motion, she extended a single claw and began to etch a spellsign into the surface of the rock.

The symbol glowed faintly as she worked, the magic imbuing itself into the very structure of the stone as she poured her Essence into it.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Isabella turned to the twigs.

She frowned, realizing the challenge of replicating the intricate sign on such a narrow, uneven surface.

Undeterred, she began to painstakingly trace the same spellsign along the length of the twig, rotating it slowly to maintain the integrity of the symbol. But as she neared the end of the sequence, the twig suddenly snapped under her pressure.

"Damn it!" Isabella hissed, tossing the broken twig aside in frustration.

She took a deep breath, calming herself.

[Okay, let's try this again. Gently this time.]

She selected another twig, holding it delicately between her fingers.

With the utmost care and precision, she began the process anew, her claw moving with a feather-light touch.

This time, the spellsign held. The twig seemed to hum with latent energy, the magic permeating its fibrous core.

Excitement building in her chest, Isabella held out the enchanted twig and the rock. The rock was up first, so she put the rock down and began drawing the spellsign with her free hand.

"Ventus, morros, caram!"

A small gust of wind shot out from her palm, which, if there'd been an enemy hear, would have pushed them back.

It was the twig's turn.

She put her Essence into it and began...

"Ventus, mo...?"

She stopped.

The tip of the twig was glowing.

[What the...?]

Isabella stared at it, her eyes wide with wonder.

The soft, ethereal light pulsed gently, as if in rhythm with her own heartbeat. Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire

[What in the world is going on?]

Carefully, Isabella began to move the twig through the air. To her amazement, the Essence trailing from the tip lingered, hanging in the space like the brush strokes of a celestial painter.

[The Essence... It's leaving a trail, like ink on a page.]

An idea struck her then.

[If the Essence can be manipulated like this... then can I...?]

Heart pounding with anticipation, Isabella held the twig up.

She focused, channeling her mana through the wood once more. But this time, instead of using her hand to draw the spellsign, she used the twig itself.

"Ventus, morros, caram!"

The reaction was instantaneous and explosive.

That same wind erupted from the point of contact, the sheer force of the magic shattering the twig in Isabella's hand.

[Ack!] A few splinters embedded themselves in her palm. One almost took out one of her eyes.

Even then, as painful as it was to have to pry those things out of her hands, Isabella couldn't contain her elation.

She started laughing.

[What... What did I just do?]