"You need to find your place in the hierarchy of the Martial Union," the Hugging Hegemon calmed down a bit, yet a flame still flickered in her eyes. "To do that, you'll have to fight us, starting from the weakest to the strongest, to determine exactly where you're ranked."
RUMBLE
The air grew prickled.
"And why must I do this?" Matriarch Nephi narrowed her eyes.
A sharp smile appeared on the Hugging Hegemon's face.
"Because you're a Martial Artist, of course."
Her powerful eyes bored into the matriarch's. "What's the matter? Scared? Is the oh-so-mighty leader of the Silas Clan a little wuss who can't fight for herself? Her pride and honor? Or is your prophecy too weak for that?"
Matriarch Nephi's rage flared. "You dare disrespect me?! You dare insult my prophetic power?!"
