Nia moved first, launching forward with a burst of speed that cracked the stone beneath her feet. Her fist aimed straight for Justin's jaw.
The crowd gasped at the raw power behind her strike, she had already forced other fighters to yield under that same blow.
But Justin didn't move. His hand came up lazily, and he caught her fist in his palm like it was nothing. Her momentum shuddered to a stop, and for a moment, she looked startled.
Then his other hand flicked out, driving a palm into her shoulder so hard it echoed like a cannon.
Her body snapped sideways, boots skidding across the stone as she crashed to the ground.
She rolled up fast, breathing hard but eyes locked on him. The shock had worn off already. She was still in this, she told herself, still strong enough to stand and fight.
She moved again, this time weaving to the side and sending a hook at his ribs. Her movements were fluid, precise, the product of hundreds of hours of training. Her footwork was perfect.
