The role of Impero was not one Shiho relished, and in fact she hated it more often than anything. Others acted, she followed. It was not her place to lead, and placed at the head of what some, Ishin included - and herself by following, considered a dying clan had caused her more trouble than it was worth. She couldn't fathom why anyone would willingly seek it.
Shrugging, she nodded affirmatively and let out a sigh, almost smiling herself.
"Shikata ga nai."
A throwing knife was visible in her right hand, one that wasn't there before. The other was balled into a fist. Assuming a stance, her grip tightened around the blade stretched in front of her.
But she did not open engagement with martial maneuver; instead, she began with a multi-faceted energy assault. In an instant, the mountain's rocky innards boiled beneath the surface and erupted in a pillar of lava, unleashing Hell itself directly at Twenty-Three's back. Simultaneously, the Impero's lively emerald eyes shone, for a fraction of a second before discharging an equally intense thermal outpour where her eyes gazed: unexcitedly into Ivana's own, aiming to boil vitreous humor and blind her in an acute paroxysm of pain.
Her body remained unmoved.
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