fans. The other pairs stopped moving, turning their attention to the
center square. Leo swallowed hard, his throat dry, as he stepped
onto the center mat. He bowed to Marcus, his hands shaking
slightly as he brought them up to a defensive guard.
"Light contact, right?" Leo asked, his voice betraying his
anxiety.
"We go until someone learns a lesson," Marcus sneered, not
bothering to return the bow.
The bell rang. Marcus didn't waste a second. He closed the
distance immediately, throwing a blistering fast jab that snapped
Leo's head back. It wasn't a light spar; it was a hard, concussive
strike. Leo stumbled backward, his eyes watering, trying to regain
his footing.
Before Leo could recover, Marcus unleashed a barrage. A heavy
right cross to the ribs, followed by a sweeping low kick that took
Leo's legs out from under him. Leo crashed onto the tatami, gasping
for air as the wind was knocked out of him.
"Get up!" Marcus yelled, standing over the boy. "In a real fight,
they don't wait for you to catch your breath. Get up!"
Leo scrambled to his feet, holding his side, tears of pain and
humiliation stinging his eyes. He threw a desperate, looping punch.
Marcus easily slipped it, grabbed Leo's collar, and executed a brutal
hip toss. The impact echoed through the silent room. As Leo lay on
the mat, clearly injured and unable to defend himself, Marcus drew
his fist back, aiming a mock, but threatening, punch at the boy's
face.
"You're a disgrace to the belt," Marcus spat.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the heavy silence. It wasn't a
shout, but it carried a strange resonance that reached every corner
of the room.
"That's enough."
Marcus froze, his fist suspended in the air. He slowly turned his
head toward the source of the voice. Every eye in the dojo followed
his gaze to the wooden bench by the wall.
Elias was standing. He hadn't moved aggressively; he simply
stood there, his hands resting easily at his sides. The gentle, weary
look was gone, replaced by a profound, immovable stillness.
"Who the hell are you?" Marcus demanded, standing up
straight and puffing his chest. "This is a closed session. Observers
stay quiet."
Elias calmly walked onto the edge of the mat, stopping just
short of the sparring area. He slipped off his shoes, leaving them
neatly aligned, and stepped onto the tatami. "The boy is beaten,"
Elias said evenly, his voice devoid of anger but carrying an
undeniable authority. "You've made your point. There's no honor in
striking someone who can no longer stand."