"Then what are you asking for?"
"Three controlled rounds."
Marcus grinned.
"This is ridiculous."
Elena ignored him.
"I want to know exactly what my daughter experienced."
Lily stood up.
"Mom."
Elena looked at her.
"You don't have to do this."
"I know."
"Then don't."
Elena's expression softened.
"I'm not doing this because I'm angry."
She looked at the three fighters.
"I'm doing it because somebody forgot what the word control means."
Master Blackwood studied her carefully.
There was something in her voice that made him uncomfortable.
Not anger.
Not pride.
Experience.
He couldn't explain it.
But he had spent too many years around fighters to ignore instincts.
"Technical sparring," he finally said.
Marcus looked disappointed.
"Fine."
"Three rounds," Blackwood continued. "Two minutes each. No strikes. No dangerous submissions. No slamming. If I say stop, everybody stops."
Elena nodded.
"And one more rule."
Everyone looked at him.
"No laughing."
The room became silent.
Marcus looked irritated.
Elena removed her sweatshirt.
Underneath was a plain black training shirt.
She walked barefoot onto the mat.
Adrian smiled.
"You're really doing this."
Elena tightened her ponytail.
"Apparently."
Marcus stepped forward.
"I'll go first."
Elena nodded.
He raised his hands.
She did the same.
The room waited.
The bell rang.
Marcus moved immediately.
Fast.
Very fast.
He shot forward, reaching for Elena's hips.
But Elena wasn't there.
She had already moved.
Marcus stumbled past her.
The room went quiet.
He turned.
Elena was standing behind him.
She had not attacked.
She had simply moved.
Marcus charged again.
This time Elena stepped sideways, caught his wrist, redirected his momentum, and allowed him to pass.
No throw.
No strike.
Nothing dramatic.
But Marcus ended up kneeling on the mat.
The laughter disappeared.
He stood.
His face had changed.
He attacked again.
And again.
Each time, Elena moved just enough.
She never fought his strength.
She made his strength useless.
With thirty seconds left, Marcus stopped.
He was breathing heavily.
Elena wasn't.
Master Blackwood stared at her.
"Where did you train?"
Elena looked at him.
"A long time ago."
Marcus frowned.
"Where?"
Elena smiled faintly.
"That isn't important."
The bell rang.
Round one ended.
Cole stepped forward.
"My turn."
Marcus looked at him.
"Don't underestimate her."
Cole's expression hardened.
"I won't."
Elena watched him approach.
He was different from Marcus.
He wasn't fast.
He was powerful.
His entire strategy was built around pressure.
He intended to overwhelm her.
The bell rang.
Cole grabbed her arm.
Elena allowed him to.
Then she turned her body.
Cole's balance disappeared.
He recovered quickly and attacked again.
This time he managed to secure a grip around her waist.
The students leaned forward.
Cole squeezed.
Elena exhaled.
Then she whispered:
"You're holding too tightly."
Cole looked confused.
Elena shifted her hips.
His grip loosened.
A second later, he was on the mat.
The room erupted in shocked voices.
Cole sat up.
Elena offered him her hand.
He stared at it.
Then took it.