I Took A Succubus's First Time-Chapter 284: Like it was nothing

Momoko scoffed, the sound sharp and laced with disdain.

Though the entire exchange thus far had been mildly amusing, even entertaining enough to keep her from losing interest, she still couldn’t help but find the proposal laughable.

A fleeting consideration flickered in her mind, but it vanished just as quickly.

She was far too powerful—too far above—to require something like his strength.

"Why would you ever think your power as the Child of Anti-Prophecy could offer me anything I don’t already have?" she said, her tone biting with arrogance. "Hah... there’s really not much there, is there?"

Even after Kouhei had clearly laid out his offer, his terms, and his reasoning, it did nothing to move her. Her expression remained unimpressed, her demeanor entirely unmoved. She looked at him now not with interest—but with subtle amusement, as though she were sizing up a toy rather than a threat.

Yet something lingered behind that cold gaze.

Momoko had taken note of one crucial detail—Misuzu’s eyes. The way she looked at Kouhei. There was affection in that gaze. No—something deeper. Something fierce and emotional.

And with that realization, a deliciously twisted thought crept into her mind.

What if she could make this man—this man her sister clearly cared for—submit?

The image planted itself, vivid and wicked.

Kouhei kneeling, broken under her will. Misuzu watching, helpless, her expression twisted in pain. Desperate. Defeated.

The very thought made Momoko’s heart flutter with sadistic glee.

She wanted it.

She wanted to see Misuzu squirm, wanted to drag that emotion from her eyes and reduce it to hopelessness. She’d revel in it.

Because Momoko had never liked her sister.

Not even once.

But she loved watching her struggle.

It had been such a shame when their parents cast Misuzu aside—banished her from the household. Once Misuzu was gone, everything around Momoko had dulled. Life had lost its color. No one cried, no one fought back. It was boring.

And now, here was her chance to feel that pleasure again.

To torment her sister in the most brutal way possible.

It was what she craved.

What she had always craved.

"However," Momoko said finally, her lips curling upward into a devilish smirk, "I’m not particularly fond of your proposal about handing over your power. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t need it. I already have power. Plenty of it."

Her voice was like velvet over thorns, gliding smoothly but hiding a sting.

"But..." she continued, her gaze darkening with intent, "having you isn’t the worst idea. The only issue is that I dislike the idea of you being someone else’s faction property. That bothers me. So—"

She let her voice trail off, eyes locking directly with Kouhei’s.

"—I’d like to offer a suggestion of my own," she said, her smile sharpening. "I’ll agree to your deal... if you can defeat one of the Yuki Clan’s greatest warriors in single combat."

There was something dark in her gaze now, something wild and calculating. Her words were deliberate. Slow.

"If you win against him," she said, her tone growing grand, "then I—no, the entire Yuki Clan—will officially lend its strength to your cause. We’ll fight beside you in your war against Souichiro."

She let the silence settle for a beat, before twisting the knife.

"But if you lose... then you’ll become ours. You’ll align yourself with the Yuki Clan—permanently. You won’t go back to Yuuna. You won’t be given another chance. And I won’t offer you, or your little faction, a single drop of help."

Her words landed like thunder.

Of course, there had to be a catch. No one—especially not Momoko—would put something as massive as the full military weight of the Yuki Clan on the line without asking for something just as costly.

If Kouhei lost this fight... he wouldn’t just be defeated.

He’d be claimed.

And not even Yuuna would be able to change that.

Still—without accepting, there would be no alliance.

No cooperation.

He had no real choice.

"I’ll accept, then," Kouhei said, his voice unwavering.

"K-Kouhei-kun..." Misuzu’s voice cracked, her eyes widening with raw fear.

She was terrified he might get himself killed again.

Kouhei glanced at her, then reached out and took her hand—his fingers warm against her trembling ones. He smiled gently, reassuringly.

"You don’t have to worry, Misuzu-san," he said. "I’ve got this."

There was something in his voice—so calm, so confident—it made her heart tighten. It felt real. Like he wasn’t bluffing. Like he meant every word.

That he wouldn’t disappear on them again.

That he would come back safe.

"Fufufu...~ I adore the little romantic moment," Momoko chuckled, a smugness dripping from every syllable. "Now that you’ve accepted... shall we head to the dueling grounds?"

With that, the three of them made their way toward the battlefield.

***

It was a massive circular platform, elevated and stark against the backdrop of falling snow. The blizzard had grown heavier—the flakes thick and fast, swirling like a curtain around the arena.

Only four people stood on the platform now.

At least on its surface.

All around them, encircling the snowy ring like an audience of ghosts, stood members of the Yuki Clan. They had gathered in numbers, forming a wall of onlookers eager to witness what was about to unfold.

Momoko took center stage, arms lifted in a grand, sweeping motion, her voice echoing with theatrical flair.

"Standing before us is the man who dares challenge our beloved champion," she declared. "This warrior has brought me countless victories—so many that I’ve lost count. And now, with just one more win, he will earn the right to marry me."

There was a mix of laughter and murmurs among the crowd, the tension palpable.

"Isn’t it thrilling?" Momoko said, eyes glowing with satisfaction. "Ninety-nine victories. Just one more, and he’ll own me—just as it’s been for centuries within the Yuki Clan. Any challenger who risks their life in this sacred ring, and reaches one hundred wins, shall be granted the hand in marriage of the unmarried head of the Yuki Clan."

She turned in a slow circle, her arms wide, basking in the weight of the moment.

"And now... we’ll witness whether he secures his hundredth victory... or if this is where his streak ends."

The people erupted in cheers, their voices rising in anticipation.

There was no doubt—this was a spectacle they had longed to see.

"And his opponent," Momoko said, gesturing toward Kouhei, "stands here today to earn the Yuki Clan’s allegiance. If he wins—hear me well, every one of you—then the Yuki Clan will commit its resources, weapons, soldiers, and full support to the Yuuna Faction—currently known as the Kouhei Faction—in their war against the Souichiro Faction."

Her voice rang out, clear and final.

The crowd hushed, their eyes locked on the two figures at the center of it all.

Something about what she said... felt wrong.

There was a strange, almost imperceptible tension laced beneath Momoko’s voice.

It lingered in the air, subtle but undeniable. It wasn’t like her to offer something so significant—so costly—with such ease. A full commitment from the entire Yuki Clan? That wasn’t something she handed out lightly.

And yet, no one dared speak.

They remained silent. Completely still.

Because it wasn’t their place to object. Not when the words came from her.

She was the clan’s leader.

And in the Yuki Clan, that meant absolute authority. Even if unease stirred in their hearts, even if their instincts screamed otherwise—they had no choice but to swallow their doubts and comply.

Momoko, basking in the silence, raised her voice.

"No! Let us welcome our champion!" she announced, her tone booming with pride and theatricality.

The one she spoke of—the man already standing tall at the center of the dueling platform—took a single step forward. The sound of his foot crashing into the snowy ground was like a thunderclap.

In that exact moment, the air twisted.

A tremor rumbled through the arena floor, and with a savage grunt, he thrust his hand into the earth.

The result was immediate and terrifying.

A glacier erupted from beneath his feet, exploding upward like a frozen geyser. Ice spiraled and spun mid-air, coalescing and reshaping itself until it formed a massive sword—no, a monstrosity of a weapon. Towering. Jagged. Beautiful in its deadliness.

It glistened in the pale light, radiating sheer magical power.

The man reached out and gripped the glacier blade, hoisting it with an ease that defied its immense weight.

It was absurd. The sword was so enormous, it shouldn’t have been called a sword at all. It was closer to a slab of frozen destruction—one that could level mountains and cleave the heavens if swung.

Compared to it, Kouhei looked minuscule. A fragile twig before an avalanche. A lone figure of flesh and blood standing before a weapon sculpted by elemental fury.

From her vantage point, Momoko watched with cold certainty gleaming in her eyes.

There was no way Kouhei could win.

This was her champion.

Her pride. Her creation.

She had hand-crafted this warrior herself—refined him, molded him, trained him from the ground up for one purpose and one purpose only: to obliterate anyone who dared challenge her.

Especially fools who thought they could marry her.

Countless challengers had tried. Every one of them had fallen. Crushed. Slain without mercy by this brutal enforcer.

But this was no ordinary man.

Her champion was a snow golem—born of her potent ice magic, shaped to mirror a perfect human form. Every inch of him was sculpted for destruction. He had no pulse. No fear. No limit.

He was unbreakable.

And Kouhei?

He was flesh.

He was fallible.

No matter how strong he might be—even if he pulled out every ounce of power within him—Momoko was convinced it would be useless.

Even if Kouhei somehow managed to land a blow—if he managed to chip away at her champion—she could just regenerate it with a flick of her finger.

It wouldn’t matter.

It was already decided.

This duel was never meant to be fair. It was a sentence. A declaration. Kouhei was going to fall—and once he did, he’d belong to her.

Body and soul.

But then...

The fight began.

And it ended almost instantly.

The entire platform fell into a hush.

The moment the signal was given, the air exploded with movement—and Kouhei launched forward.

There was no hesitation.

No wasted motion.

In the same breath the battle had begun, he reached his target—and with a single, clean slash—he struck.

The sound of impact rang out like the shattering of crystal.

The massive glacier blade shattered in an instant, reduced to glimmering fragments that scattered into the wind.

And the golem—Momoko’s indestructible creation—split clean down the middle.

Carved open.

It didn’t even have time to retaliate. Its feet hadn’t moved. Its arms hadn’t swung. It had stood still—silent—and in the very next instant, it was nothing more than falling pieces.

Kouhei stood in the aftermath.

Blade drawn. Motionless.

The entire attack had taken less than a second.

He had cut through it like butter.

Like it was nothing.

A blink—and it was over.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦