Celestia smiles sympathetically, as if this is the kind of problem that people have difficulty grasping all the time – indeed, as if she herself has struggled with not seizing toddlers in her enormous metal jaws and shaking them until they stop moving, or with keeping herself from setting trees on fire with her flamethrower breath – and shakes her head. "There are no challengers, Grimlock. The people here won't want to fight you – they'll want to make friends."