Orkler was a whirlwind of fury, his massive form charging at David like a runaway battering ram. His fist, the size of a melon, arced through the air, aimed squarely at David's jaw with bone-shattering intent. David, his cosmic eyes blazing with icy focus, inhaled a sharp breath. He couldn't meet this head-on – Orkler's raw power would turn him into a crumpled ragdoll.
But beneath the swirling vortex of his eyes, a predator's instinct bloomed. Years of honed combat honed his reflexes to a razor's edge. He saw the subtle tremor in Orkler's muscles, the almost imperceptible telegraph of the blow.
David gambled. With a split-second decision, David anticipated Orkler's jab before it could land. With the audacity of a hummingbird facing a bull, he struck with lethal force, driving his fist into Orkler's meaty bicep while simultaneously redirecting the Minotaur's forearm with the back of his other hand.
