CHAPTER 6: MASTERY

OVER MIGHT

rustrated beyond belief by

repeatedly hitting nothing but empty air,

and hearing the mocking, highly arrogant laughter

of his peers suddenly morph into bewildered,

uncomfortable murmurs, Kael completely and

utterly lost his temper. His face flushed a dark,

furious purple. He entirely abandoned all previous

instructions regarding light contact and completely

forgot that he was fighting a nine-year-old child.

With a loud, guttural roar of pure frustration,

Kael stepped heavily forward, recklessly loading

his entire, considerable body weight into a massive,

sweeping clothesline strike. It was a vicious, highly

unrefined attack meant to crush whatever it

connected with, fueled entirely by a bruised ego

and a desperate need to reassert his shattered

dominance.

It was in this precise, violent moment that Isla

finally chose to act. She did not attempt to block

the strike; attempting to halt that much raw mass

with her delicate frame would have instantly

shattered her small bones. Instead, she stepped

smoothly and aggressively forward, slipping

perfectly completely under his wildly swinging

arm.

Her small, incredibly strong hands shot out

like lightning. Her left hand gripped the thick

fabric of his gi tightly at the elbow, while her right

hand seized his lapel. With a breathtakingly sharp,

powerful pivot of her hips, she dropped her center

of gravity almost completely to the floor, instantly

transforming her small, sturdy frame into a perfect,

immovable fulcrum.

Kael's immense, reckless momentum was

instantly and completely hijacked. Unable to stop

his own forward charge, he was launched violently

upward and over her small shoulder in a perfect,

terrifying parabolic arc. The massive teenager flew

helplessly through the air, entirely stripped of all

control.

He slammed into the dense tatami mat with a

bone-rattling, thunderous crash that physically

shook the walls of the expansive dojo and rattled

the golden trophies on their high shelves. Before

the stunned boy could even attempt to gasp for the

air that had been violently forced from his lungs,

Isla was already kneeling gracefully beside him.

With terrifying, clinical precision, she drove

her small knee heavily into his shoulder,

completely pinning his massive arm at a highly

agonizing angle. Simultaneously, her tiny,

calloused fingers pressed lightly but incredibly

firmly against a major arterial pressure point on