Beasts Only Follow Their Instincts
There's a famous saying in the Lord of the Warrior community: "Never mess with an enraged Barbarian." If you're a player reading this, you've probably heard it at least once. Today, I'll explain why this proverb even exists.
The Barbarian is a class that's all-in on pure strength—a job that demands truly savage play. What makes it the class of romance? Is it because it's a pure DPS with zero utility skills? That's part of it, sure, but the real reason is its utterly unhinged concept.
Barbarians have a passive skill called Wrath. Like how a Berserker gets faster and hits harder the lower their HP drops, a Barbarian's strength surges with rage, ignoring all status effects. At first glance, it might seem like just another overpowered passive, nothing romantic about it. But here's the kicker: the condition to trigger it isn't easy. Right?
The player controlling the character has to actually get angry for Wrath to activate. It's not a passive you can pop on demand. Unless you're genuinely pissed—boiling mad, smashing your keyboard and breaking windows—it won't trigger. At that point, it's less a passive and more a status ailment. That's the quirky, captivating concept that earns Barbarians their "romantic warrior" title.
Of course, unlike the trash-tier Berserker, a Barbarian can pull their weight without Wrath. So let's all avoid asking one, "When do you go Wrath, bro?" Don't be that guy. One slip-up, and if the Barbarian player snaps, your spine's bending like a bow that day.
People lose their reason when enraged, and without reason, judgment clouds. I've never once thought of the Barbarian's passive Wrath as a buff. As I said, cooking an opponent blinded by rage is easy pickings.
Of course, I get why folks fear a Wrath-buffed Barbarian. They already pack insane attack power, and with rage ignoring all status effects, it's like a tank in full armor barreling through. Every basic attack hits like a skill—brutal.
But whatever. I'm just a fragile Berserker who drops in one hit anyway. Wrath boosts strength, not speed. To a speedy Berserker like me, a raging Barbarian is fish on a cutting board. Sure, losing status debuffs hurts a bit...
But what the hell is this? The enraged Barbarian in front of me isn't losing his mind—he's pressing me with coldly calculated moves. I hold my breath, barely dodging Kang Manbok's strikes.
Yeah, against an enraged Barbarian... no, against Kang Manbok, all I can do is dodge.
Last fight, he wasn't enraged. As he admitted on stream, he got cocky against me—thought it'd be an easy win. But now? He's dead serious. Anyone can see it.
His axe, wreathed in the red aura of Barbarian Wrath, slams down. The ground craters, shards exploding everywhere. That's the problem. His strength is so absurdly amplified that even the debris is deadly. I'm dodging axe swings and shrapnel, mind in overdrive.
Suddenly, "defeat" echoes in my head. I'm losing. I'm dying. Defeat.
And I hate losing. More than death.
I scramble for a breakthrough. No item nukes like last time—items are banned in 100v100 skirmishes for balance. Buffs? All but one already up. Blood Spray or Blood Burst for disruption? Nah, Wrath immunes all status effects. At best, a split-second blind. Waste of mana.
Mental attack? That's it. If memory serves, Kang Manbok's weak to taunts. Remember? A little chat scratch, he rages solo, eats a blind shot, and drops.
Mental game's my win con against him. Big snag, though: Lord of the Warrior hides enemy team chat. My spamming won't reach this rage-blinded brute.
...Not that I have time for chat anyway.
One option left. I hesitate, but his axe storm steels my resolve. Winning trumps personal shame.
I flick on my mic.
"Ah, ah."
"Hello? Can you hear me? Hear—GYAAAH, almost died! Can you hear me or not?!"
"…"
I ignore the chat. It's not important. Maybe the battle heat burned away my shame—I speak fluidly, no stutters.
"Your legs look jacked-up weak, total upper-body chad... UGYAHH!"
"…"
"Balloon muscles, water muscles, steroid junkie, roider!"
"…"
"Dude, your tits look bigger than mine—what cup size?"
"…!"
A gap. Fleeting, but I seize it—thrust my blade into his gut.
No. As I lunge, instinct screams danger. I abort, backpedal.
Insane. He baited it. Not a real opening—feigned fluster.
I keep taunting, but Kang Manbok doesn't bite.
...How much did he grind his teeth for this?
I'm overwhelmingly outmatched. Haven't eaten a solid hit yet, but can't evade forever. His ground slams rack chip damage via shards. Minor for normals, lethal for a Berserker like me.
Drag it out, I lose. Stance crumbling. Berserker's self-debuff Anemia throbs my skull.
No time for next moves. To anyone watching, I'm no predator—prey.
I was the fool. Full-health Kang Manbok. All-in Kang Manbok. Uncocky Kang Manbok. Taunts won't faze a beast craving only victory.
Time to beast out myself.
Such peaceful, pathetic days. I thought I needed griefing for dopamine hits. Wrong, apparently.
Embarrassing, but... I'm stimulated now.
I pop Blood Spray and Blood Burst together. Not for debuffs—for vision block.
In that split-second, I unleash my sealed trump: Berserk Fury.
Berserk Fury effect applied.
All stats massively increased.
You are gradually going insane.
All status effect impacts greatly worsened.
Extreme Anemia
Extreme Dizziness
Adrenaline Overdose
Endorphin Overdose
Extreme Arousal State
Peak Ecstasy
"Huuuuh, haaaah, huu, haa, huu..."
I pant raggedly. Brain-melting pleasure. Dizzy haze. Can't even breathe right.
I'm a beast now. Victory-craving beast. Pleasure-consumed beast.
"Huuuuh... hek, hek, hek..."
Beasts move by instinct. I dodge by instinct. Stab by instinct.
And.
"Huuu... hek, haaaaaahng..."
Vision blurs.
"Hek, hiik, huuk, huuuuuhng..."
I just heave like a beast. For minutes, mic still on, belting metallic gasps that'd embarrass listeners. Body shuddering in bliss.
Then log out.