Blake watched with a bemused expression as Ash stormed into the room, her fiery energy completely disrupting the heavy atmosphere. Her loud proclamation reverberated through the space, shattering any lingering tension.
"Krist, I have a deal for you!" she yelled, her fists clenched at her sides.
Before Krist could respond, Ash marched up to him and grabbed his arm. "You're going to spar with me. If I win, you delete those photos. No arguments!"
Krist stumbled to his feet, resisting her pull. "Wait a second! I didn't even agree to this!"
"You don't get a choice," Ash retorted, practically dragging him toward the door.
Blake leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it."
"Blake!" Krist protested, shooting his uncle a pleading look.
But Blake simply waved him off. "Think of it as part of your training. Ash isn't going to let this go, and honestly, I'm curious to see how badly she beats you."
Krist groaned as Ash hauled him out of the room.
The sparring ring was a sleek, modern setup located in a hidden wing of the estate. The walls were reinforced with a shimmering, translucent material that Krist guessed was some advanced technology—or maybe magic, given Blake's earlier revelations. The floor was padded but firm, the kind of surface that promised a fight would hurt but not maim.
Ash released Krist in the center of the ring and immediately began stretching. "Alright, here's the deal," she said, rolling her shoulders. "We fight until one of us taps out or can't continue. No weapons, just hand-to-hand combat."
Krist hesitated, his mind still swirling with everything Blake had told him. "Ash, can we not do this right now? I'm kind of processing the fact that I might be some magical anomaly that almost got my parents killed."
Ash stopped mid-stretch, narrowing her eyes at him. "Oh, boo-hoo. Welcome to the club. You're not the only one dealing with stuff, Krist."
He stared at her, taken aback.
"You think you're the only one who's had to grow up fast? The only one with people coming after you? Get over yourself," she snapped. "Now, fight me."
Krist felt a spark of irritation flare in his chest. "Fine," he said, shrugging off his jacket. "But don't cry when I win."
Ash snorted. "Oh, please. The day you beat me is the day pigs fly."
The fight started quickly.
Ash moved first, darting toward Krist with a speed that caught him off guard. Her fist shot out, aimed at his ribs, but he managed to sidestep just in time.
"You're slow," she taunted, circling him like a predator.
"And you're cocky," Krist shot back, pivoting to keep her in his sights.
Ash grinned. "Cocky because I'm good."
She lunged again, this time feinting left before sweeping Krist's legs out from under him. He hit the mat hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him.
"One point for me," Ash said, standing over him.
Krist gritted his teeth, scrambling to his feet. "You're fast, I'll give you that. But let's see how you handle this."
He surged forward, faking a right hook before twisting and aiming a kick at her side. To his surprise, it connected, sending her stumbling back a few steps.
Ash's eyes lit up, a mix of excitement and challenge. "Not bad," she admitted. "But you're still going down." she say and aim a right hook at krist gut
Krist caught her wrist mid-motion, flipping her over his shoulder with ease. She hit the ground with a soft thud, but rolled back into a crouch almost immediately, her breath steady, unshaken.
"That was close," she said, pushing off the ground and circling him again.
The fight intensified.
Krist found himself on the defensive more often than not, dodging Ash's rapid strikes and trying to anticipate her moves. She was relentless, her punches and kicks coming at him from every angle. But as the fight wore on, he started to notice patterns in her attacks—small tells in her body language that hinted at what she'd do next.
When she aimed a high kick at his head, he ducked and swept her other leg out from under her. She hit the mat with a loud thud, and this time, it was his turn to smirk.
"One point for me," he said.
Ash didn't stay down for long. She was back on her feet in seconds, her expression fierce. "Lucky shot," she muttered.
Blake and a small group of house staff had gathered outside the sparring ring, watching the match with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
"I give him ten more minutes," one of the maids whispered.
Blake chuckled. "You're being generous. Five, tops."
Back in the ring, Krist and Ash were both breathing heavily, sweat dripping down their faces. Krist could feel his muscles burning, but he refused to back down.
"You're better than I thought," Ash admitted, circling him again.
"Thanks," Krist said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm still not deleting those photos."
Her eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that."
She rushed him again, but this time, Krist was ready. He sidestepped her attack and managed to grab her arm, twisting it behind her back.
"Tap out," he said, his voice strained but triumphant.
Ash growled, trying to wriggle free. But after a few seconds, she sighed and tapped the mat with her free hand.
Krist released her, collapsing onto the mat beside her. "I won," he said, grinning despite the pain in his ribs.
Ash groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Fine. Keep your stupid photos."
Blake's laughter echoed from the sidelines. "Well, that was unexpected. Maybe the kid's not completely hopeless after all."
Krist looked over at his uncle, his grin fading. "Don't think this means I've forgotten our conversation, Blake. I'm still going to figure this out—whether you help me or not."
Blake's smirk softened, his gaze thoughtful. "We'll see, kid. We'll see."