The sun was high, casting a relentless glare over the mountain. Tahir's body ached from the morning's drills, but Palm wasn't done. The master's eyes were unyielding, a storm brewing beneath the calm surface.
"Your kicks have brought you this far," Palm said, stepping into a combat stance. "Now, it's time to learn the true art of punches."
Tahir's muscles protested as he fell into position. Every part of him was fatigued, but he pushed aside the exhaustion. He couldn't afford weakness, not here.
The first lesson began with the jab. Palm's punch was a blur, a quick snap that cut through the silence. Tahir imitated the motion, the impact of his knuckles against the air weak and uncertain. Before he could reset, a sharp tap to his side reminded him of Palm's unforgiving precision.
