They didn’t ask about my Technique I got with my Fighter Path and they didn’t act weird when I didn’t say anything about it, they certainly didn’t know what Krav Maga was though. If they had known, they would’ve understand why I got the Technique [Martial Art: Krav Maga: Anything Goes]. You see, Krav Maga is the amalgamation of several martial arts with the idea that offense is the best defense. Traditionally, martial arts focused more on defense, had a lot of rules about what is considered “legal” and “illegal” to use when fighting. Krav Maga was the epitome of fighting dirty, using any advantage you got to win. Nut punches? Make him cry. Break bones? Bite his ears? Make Mike Tyson proud. Victory was a victory. It was a big reason why suburban moms flocked to this martial art, since a guy who was 50 pounds heavier than you and a foot taller than you was hard to karate chop your way through. But a ball busting kick? A follow up kick to the jaw? Can’t declare victory fast enough.

Why this was all important? Well in their infinite wisdom they decide to have me train with some pompous prick of a guy, with some rank twenty or so trainer. They both have their own ideas of what is and isn’t lady-like, and they both have their own ideas of how someone should fight. The first time I tried doing a kick to the inside of the knee of this smug little shit? Somehow the trainer used a Technique that made both of us freeze in place, separate, and then then unfreeze. He spent a solid five minutes going on a tirade and explaining what strikes I can’t do. No nut shots, no joint strikes, no intentional bone breaking, no curb stomping, all the fun stuff.

This was where I decided to try out my Technique. [Krav Maga: Anything Goes] and it was almost like an invisible circle spread out from me, and as it passed through my opponent and the trainer, it’s almost like something was rewired in their brains, as they had a monetary blank face. They shook it off like nothing happened, so I didn’t betray what I did either. When the guy launches some stupid Technique, what almost sounded like lightning punch, I barely even recognized a punch was coming my way before I had the air knocked out of lungs. Speed must not have been all that the Technique was good for, as I swear I felt a tingle in my stomach, and it took a second for me to recover. The guy stood over me, grinning like the smug guy he was, leaving himself wide open. Deciding it was enough, I launch a side kick at him, aimed towards the inside of his knee. Since he was expecting it to either hit his legs, and presumably not do much, or be stopped by whatever illegal move blocking system, he let the attack land squarely on his knee, he nearly collapsed under that one stroke, but caught himself at the last second. What he didn’t catch though? My follow up Ball Blaster 3000, a one way ticket for his balls up his throat. This sent him onto his knees, hunched over still, grasping at his family jewels as if I didn’t downgrade his diamond from twenty four karats to twelve karats. Thinking this wasn’t enough humiliation, I get a reverse grip on his head while he’s too busy to fight back, then a do a little leap forward with a spin in mid-air, smashing his head down onto the floor like I was some high profile wrestler.

The guy after getting choke slammed? Out cold. It was such an instant takedown they had a healer come in and take care of him. Following that embarrassing defeat the trainer grilled me on what I did, asking how I was able to circumvent his Technique. I spent the next half hour of my life detailing the broad history of Krav Maga, the ideology behind it, and eventually my one and only Technique. “Sir, Krav Maga has none of those restrictions. The martial art style was created from a bunch of other ones when they realized you couldn’t wait for some guy dressed as a civilian to walk into a crowd and go shooting everyone in sight. It was meant for when the only way to defend was to attack. When your enemy did not fight with morals, Krav Maga was made. When war forced you to throw away your ethics, Krav Maga was born from the ashes of those war crimes” I finally ended up saying to my trainer. Lastly I mentioned how I got past his Technique with mine, explaining how it set up some sort of zone, and that within it, all regulations regarding fighting were those of Krav Maga, which basically means no rules. I had guessed his Technique probably worked in the reverse of mine, where it used some sort of pre-established rule set and allowed for rapid responses to actions that broke those rules within a certain area.this confession seemed to both anger him and surprise him at the same time. The realization that a fundamental Technique, and function of competitive duels, could be broken, angered him at the futility of his abilities. At the same time, the fact there was such a Technique that could be be so strong at such low ranks impresses him. It wasn’t until he realized that it wasn’t that the Technique allowed me to attack illegal spots with impunity, but that it simply redefined the commonly accepted rules of the fight, meaning I could be hit by the same attacks as well, mellowed out both emotions.

“Despite the obvious weaknesses in your Technique, I must prohibit you from fighting others for now, as they would not have the knowledge, nor attitude capable of fighting in such a way to provide an actual sparring session for you” he says, before clarifying that it goes both ways. He explains that he could find people who would gladly rejoice at the freedom to fight cruelly, especially towards a girl who would be much lower ranked than they would be, but that it would be tough to quickly fight someone who could fight honorably enough under a sparring session with little restrictions. I show surprise, as the idea of some level of care for my being, combined with the thought that he was actually seeking a sparring partner for me that would actually be of help to me unsettled me. Spotting my reaction, he says “why do you seem surprised a trainer would actually seek the correct partner for you? You thought that because I had you train that stupid boy I did not care for you? Sure, I saw a girl who did not fit in with the fighting world. Sure, that seem like a bad image in your eyes. You forget that there famous women who are fighters, who are soldiers, who bash brains open and eat the insides. But that is not what you look like. You look like a girl who lived a life of luxury who resorted to violence as a way to show they are tough, and whom thought she could get a cheap shot off against a tormentor”. He finishes by saying that some of what he said was incorrect, his point still stands that before I can truly consider myself a fighter, I must hone my body, must learn to actually fight before going back to relying on cheap shots.

After the end of everything, still somewhat dismayed at the discrimination, but realizing he was right, I did not have the look of an actual fighter, that everything about me screamed entitled, and that ultimately I need to widen my fighting abilities beyond nut shots and broken limbs. Decision made, I ask the trainer if it would be possible to split all my near future training into two sections. I tell him that the first section would be dedicated solo training against a dummy for Krav Maga moves, while my second section of training would be guided training for learning the move sets of other martial arts. I explain that while I believe my martial art will help me the most in the long term, I should still know what other martial arts I will face, as well as the fact that knowing how to use them will make me rely less on cheaper tactics. He tells me that is a mature way to take this, but also suggests plenty of strength except exercises, since I will need to build my body up to both take blows, and dish out blows.nodding my head at the amendment time my training.

I spend the rest of the day split largely between weight training, a general exercise regimen, and bashing my body against a wooden dummy. You may wonder why I didn’t also do the guided training in other martial art forms, which is simply that he needed to observe my own martial art form to determine what other forms would compliment my own, so as to expand my own range of strikes, and also what forms would help to reinforce my own style. When my own body was too battered by kicking, punching, gouging, or otherwise attempting to break the dummy apart, I would be tasked to either go running or lift weights. When I recovered enough to either run again, or hit the dummy some more, I would cycle through to the next thing. Like this, hours passed by in an oblivion of pain and physical exertion.

The end of the day arrived, and I basically collapsed into a big ice bath that was made to get my body some means to reduce the impact of the brutal destruction I gave to all of my major muscles. I had managed to get a servant to deliver some hand food to eat while I was in the bath, as I would’ve been too exhausted to get out and make it back to my room otherwise. After barely pulling myself out of the ice bath, one of the servants proceeding to help me warm up a bit before giving me a general body massage to work out some of the tension in my body. After I was declared capable of getting back to my room, I did just that, slightly limping back to my room, still sore all over. With some struggling, I got out of my clothes and into some night clothes that were brought over, I go straight to bed.

[Path of the Fighter rank 2]

[Path of the Fighter rank 3]

[Technique: Phantom Strike obtained]