Ryu's Great Swordstaffs spun like a whirlwind. His every step seemed to cripple another barbarian, his movements smooth and cadence unhurried.
Esme followed to his back like a shadow, cleaving the minds of their enemies with a practiced ease.
Ryu could feel his blood surging throughout his body. Emotions that wanted to bask in the feeling of the blood pooling at his feet clashed against his cold personality. They pulls and tugged, trying to prove which was the true Ryu.
One part of Ryu's mind became a minefield of barbaric thoughts. Images of ripping flesh apart with his bare hands, bedding countless women, and standing atop a mountain of corpses flashed by one after another.
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