1st Match

Becca charged at him again, this time more cautiously. She feinted with a left jab before spinning into a powerful roundhouse kick aimed at his head.

He ducked under it with ease, then surprised her by suddenly stepping into her space rather than away. His palm shot forward, striking her sternum with just enough force to send her sliding back several feet.

"So you can attack," she said, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

She recovered quickly and came at him with a flurry of strikes—punches and kicks flowing together in a rhythm that would have overwhelmed most opponents. Her technique was refined, each movement flowing naturally into the next.

He matched her tempo perfectly, deflecting some blows with his forearms and evading others with subtle shifts of his body. When she overcommitted to a punch, he grabbed her wrist and used her momentum to pull her forward, destabilizing her stance.