Her form wasn't perfect, but she was fast.
Arthur dodged effortlessly, catching her wrist mid swing and flipping her over his shoulder.
Crash.
She hit the ground hard.
Carl and Somto tensed in their seats.
Arthur waited.
She groaned, pushing herself back up. Her lip trembled, but she didn't quit.
Strike. Block. Spin. Kick.
Arthur met her every move like a stone wall. His footwork was minimal. Controlled. Mastered.
Her breathing grew shallow, each limb aching more with every failed attempt.
Then came the fifth fall.
This time she didn't get up immediately.
Carl shot up from his seat. "Arthur, that's enough!"
Arthur didn't look at him. "Sit down."
"She's in pain! You're being too hard on her—!"
"She's not done," Arthur said, eyes still locked on Nnenna. "And if you interfere, she'll never reach what's ahead of her."
Somto stood, fists clenched. "She's not a machine—!"
