Anger was a tool; a resource to be used when the situation called for it. When experiencing it yourself, a small boost in tenacity and strength can be expected at the cost of control. When experiencing it from the enemy, you can abuse their lack of control to easily predict their movements. Normally, I would be on the latter side of this equation; abusing anything and everything in my power to tilt the situation to my favor, and hopefully tilting the enemy along the way. It was one of the most tested and viable strats in the world of any competitive event, and when fighting against a superior foe, would help you in avoiding the most debilitating blows while chipping away at your opponent. Which is exactly what I was about to do now. Fortunately, my opponent was fairly easy to rile up. His hang-ups about justice and honor were laughably easy to exploit. Just one comment on his

Training and being taught to the best of her sister's abilities, Olivia considered herself the one capable of being on par with her beloved Sister. When it came to self-control, it would take an event so traumatic and upsetting for the younger of the siblings to even begin to lose her mind to her turbulent emotions. And in the event that she had to let loose, she still had enough of a sense to at least follow a basic enough attack pattern that would use her emotion-fuelled state to its fullest. Seeing as she was fighting someone that had clearly bested her sister's speed and strength, she'd have to either get creative to exploit openings that normally wouldn't be called as such, or she'd have to be faster in an order of magnitude greater than her sister's already amazing speed to get in before he could shape the earth to her will. With her smaller size, she was naturally faster than her older sister, at l

Opening the flap separating the inside of my tent from the outside world, I steeled myself for what was possibly the most stressful thing that I'll have to do in this world yet. I could stomach fighting, years of studying under my Mom desensitizing me from the fear of pain and getting hit. I could stomach leading, having been forced to do so for years even before I wound up in this world. Hell, and I can't believe I'm saying this, I could even stomach getting raped, so long as it was a fellow woman that did the deed. And god did that last sentence sound awful, even to myself. No... What I couldn't stomach was knowing that people's lives were on the line if I ever fucked up in trying to treat them. So as I walked outside of the comforts of my personal tent, I already knew that I was fucked before I even began. "It hurts..." <