Disclaimer: Don't own, probably don't want to; Norihiro is doing a fine enough job as it is.
Placement: Any time before Volume 8
Girl Talk: Strength Alone
Undine's distain began when Galatea stooped to give a girl in rags a handful of beras. "What are you doing? We're on a hunt for a Voracious Eater, not to look for poster children for 'Houses for the Homeless!'"
Galatea rose and turned to face the muscular warrior. "You fail to grasp the details of the situation, self-proclaimed 'Strongest of all warriors.'"
Undine glared at the longhaired woman. "Oh yeah? Enlighten me."
"In order for the Organization and the Warriors known as Claymores to exist, we need to act courteous and generous to humans, not just stop short of killing them. Also, a little doling out of money can do wonders in our search."
"Feh! We don't need humans. We don't need to gain trust. Strength is enough to take down any Yoma!"
The nods of assent from a couple of the other Claymores in the hunter group were mitigated by the murmurs of worry from the citizens in the surrounding village. Galatea's eyes flickered to them, strategizing.
This needs to end now.
Without replying directly, Galatea made her way to a table in an open area and sat down. She gestured to Undine to do the same. "How about we have a wager, then," she proposed, "We arm wrestle. Should I lose, you may take my rank as third highest warrior. Should I win, you stop this mutinous talk." She propped her elbow up, hand ready.
Undine looked down at her commander's gangly arm. In terms of base strength, she was stronger than Galatea. And she couldn't think of any way that she could lose.
"You're on!" she crowed, propping up her elbow to trap Galatea's hand in a steel grip. Amazingly, Galatea still had that assured smile on her face. Bitch doesn't know what's coming to her, Undine decided.
"Call the start, number eleven," Galatea offered.
Undine matched the smile with a smirk. "Fine. On your mark…"
The corner of Galatea's eyes crinkled.
"Get set…"
Undine's muscles bulged.
"Go!"
And Galatea let go.
Undine's arm slammed backward of its own accord, breaking through the table and sending the muscled warrior to the ground. Galatea rose, triumphant.
After gasping out in surprise Undine accused, "You cheated!"
Galatea straightened out her tunic. "I never said that I had to win by brute strength alone. I won by my own strengths – infiltrating the cracks in your yoma energy and turning your own strength against you."
Galatea's smile turned mocking as she stared down at the lower-ranked warrior. "And believe me, the cracks are many – your arrogance, your wishes…" her eyes tightened… "and your fears.
"If you think strength is enough to take down any yoma, then think on this; I can only exert a mere fraction of what Awakened beings can do to you. Your strength will be turned against you; you will kill your own friends, and then you'll kill yourself. It's not only strength, but tactics and psychology that lead to victory."
Galatea turned around, cloak swishing harshly. "Think on that and train harder later. For now, clean yourself up and pay for the table."
She walked away, leaving Undine to pick up the pieces.
Author's note: A fictional confrontation between two Claymores of opposing values – also an explanation of why Undine can force off yoma manipulation with strength alone. It turned out a little less inspired than I hoped; I'll have to come back later and revise.