Lucen staggered back again. Didn't fall.
"Balance," Varik said, flat. "You plant too wide when you're nervous."
"I'm always nervous when someone's trying to hit me."
Varik circled. "Then you should be a balance expert by now."
Lucen clenched his jaw.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he pivoted off his back foot and fired another jab, fast this time.
Varik leaned just enough to miss it, then tapped him on the forehead.
Tap.
Like a middle school bully reminding him who ran the lunch line.
Lucen didn't move.
Just blinked.
Then muttered, "Okay. That one's personal."
He came in hard.
Right cross. Left follow.
Varik blocked both with the edge of his forearm, nudged Lucen sideways with a shoulder check, and stepped in.
Lucen tried to pivot.
Varik caught the elbow and hip-checked him into the mat again.
Thud.
Lucen rolled over with a grunt.
"I am," he muttered, "going to throw you through a wall one day."
