The Tiger Estate's private training hall was a masterpiece of architecture. It was a wide, open-air pavilion made of ironwood and stone, surrounded by a tranquil koi pond. It was designed to withstand the sparring of grown Tiger warriors.
It was not designed for a six-year-old with a sonic cannon in his throat.
General Rajah stood in the center of the mat, his hands clasped behind his back. He had changed into a simple white training gi.
Arjun stood opposite him, vibrating with energy. He was also wearing a tiny gi, his tail twitching back and forth like a metronome set to fast.
Barnaby stood at the edge of the mat, holding a tray of earplugs.
"The Roar is not about volume," Rajah instructed, his voice cutting through the morning air. "It is about Will. You must project your intention, not just your voice. If you shout with a scattered mind, you break everything. If you shout with a focused mind, you break only what you choose."
