"Hah, and you say you were born to fight! To me you seem more like a child, abusing those weaker than you and cowering before your elders!" Isei practically barked as he wagged his finger at Jasper and circled around the gem to examine her handiwork. Excessive force, unnecessarily smashing the creatures into a paste when a lone blow would've sufficed, anger and frustration that had no place in the exercise of the arts. Those were the things he saw. He shook his head, obviously thinking little of the show of power. "And if an enemy with that power appears before you? Do you cry and call for your superiors?".

Seeing Jasper brutalizing their compatriots, many of the koopa and goomba decided to give her a wide berth. Of course this'd mostly just lead them towards Vader, Ken and the rest, so perhaps a retreat would be in their best interest. Still, some more dedicated or foolhardy than the rest continued to approach the martial master and the yellow alien. As they closed in, Isei took a deep breath, seemingly in dissapointment at Jasper. "Do you accept death? Or do you crush them with your fist!" he snapped, and as he exhaled he turned and took a step forward, stamping his foot hard and thrusting his right hand towards the incoming flying foes.

This quick and simple motion, nothing but a stepping punch truth be told, created a double detonation as Isei's foot carved a crater on the town's tiled streets and his clenched fist burst through the air with a booming sound as though a massive whip had just been cracked. The Paratroopas that had tried to sneak up on Isei were blasted back by the strike, smashed straight into a wall, but the deadly hand neither made contact nor extinguished their lives. Several paces ahead the anthropomorphic turtles, dazed and confused, emerged from their shells and took a moment to reconsider their life choices.

"You limit your strength and let it waste away, happy to use what you have without challenging yourself", Isei stated bluntly as he turned back to face the gem, raising his still clenched fist to eye level. The old man's hand was calloused into a rock-like claw, knuckles somehow still prominent despite the abnormally bulging, coarse backhand. It was a fist trained through countless hours, a weapon honed from a lifetime of work. "How can you call yourself a warrior if you don't seek to become the strongest?".

[@BringBack1996]