Ochieng barely had time to register the Grandmaster's movement before a fist struck his ribs.
Crack!
Pain exploded in his side as he was hurled backward, smashing through an old wooden beam.
He gasped, trying to get air into his lungs.
The Grandmaster stood still, watching.
His golden eyes glowed in the dim torchlight.
"Pathetic," he murmured.
Ochieng wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and pushed himself up.
"I'm just getting started."
The Grandmaster vanished.
Then—
A kick slammed into Ochieng's spine.
He barely twisted in time to absorb some of the force, but his body still skidded across the dusty floor.
A cold voice echoed through the dojo.
"You seek the Underworld Trials, yet you fight like a common street brawler?"
Ochieng gritted his teeth.
This wasn't just a fight.
It was a test.
If he couldn't handle the Grandmaster, he had no right to enter the Trials.
So he adapted.
He closed his eyes.
Listened.
Felt the shift in air pressure.
Then he moved.
The next strike came, but Ochieng dodged it by a hair's breadth, twisting to deliver a counterpunch.
Bang!
His fist connected—
But it was like punching steel.
The Grandmaster didn't even flinch.
Instead, he grabbed Ochieng's arm, twisted it, and flung him across the room.
Boom!
Ochieng hit the ground hard.
His bones screamed.
But he didn't stay down.
He couldn't.
This was more than just survival.
It was his destiny.
---
Breaking the Limits
Hours passed.
Or maybe it was days.
Ochieng lost track of time.
His body was covered in bruises, his muscles screaming for mercy.
Yet he refused to stop.
And the Grandmaster saw it.
A flicker of approval in his cold gaze.
Then—
He stopped attacking.
Ochieng swayed on his feet, gasping.
The Grandmaster studied him, then nodded.
"You are worthy," he said finally.
Ochieng blinked.
"Then you'll train me?"
The old man smirked.
"No. I'll break you. And if you survive... you'll become something more."
Ochieng grinned.
"Do your worst."
And so, the real training began.
---