Shouting.
But Seren blocks it out, homing in on her opponent.
The woman grits her teeth and changes tactics, hooking a leg behind Seren’s calf, trying to sweep her.
Seren feels it coming.
Instead of stiffening, she drops.
One knee hits the ground. One shredded palm slaps the dirt.
Three points of contact.
Stable.
The woman over-commits.
And that’s when Seren moves.
She twists at the waist, shoulder driving in—not to strike, but to unbalance. She uses the woman’s momentum instead of fighting it, shoving at the hip while pulling at the shoulder.
The woman’s footing falters.
Just for a heartbeat.
Seren doesn’t take the opening cleanly. She takes it however she can—twisting, shoving, forcing the moment before it slips away. Seren lunges for the woman, sloppy, scrappy, uncontrolled. She shoves, catching the woman in the shoulder.
But it’s enough.
The woman goes down hard, back hitting the earth with a grunt of surprise.
The circle erupts.
Seren steps back instantly, hands open, breath steady. Heart hammering—but controlled.
She’s still standing. But barely. Her breath stutters, her legs tremble, like the ground could take her at any second if she lets it.
Silence crashes down.
General Ashborne’s gaze locks onto her.
Long. Assessing.
Then…
A single nod.
Approval.
Not because it was flawless, but because she didn’t collapse when it mattered.When she wanted to.
Seren’s chest tightens—not with pride, but with something steadier. Heavier. Real. Like validation.Like proof she’s never met her potential.
The woman on the ground lets out a breathless laugh and takes Seren’s offered hand, allowing herself to be hauled upright.
“Good fight,” she says, genuine.
Seren nods back. “You too.”
