She did not give him time to prepare.

The moment Makun settled into a stance, Dani moved.

She was fast, faster than what Zorak and Jorg had been.

Makun was surprised, a first-grade Adept moving that fast.

One moment she was three feet away, the next her fist was driving toward his chest. He barely managed to twist, the blow grazing his ribs instead of hitting dead centre.

It still hurt like hell.

He stumbled back, raising his guard, but she was already pressing forward. A kick swept toward his legs, he jumped, and her elbow caught him in the shoulder on the way down.

He hit the ground rolling, came up on one knee, and had to immediately dive sideways as her heel cracked the floor where his head had been.

She’s not using Ashe, he realised, this was pure physical ability.

A first-grade Adept warrior operating at a capacity no peak human athlete could, testing an Apprentice who had barely been introduced to mysticism.

It was not a fair match.

But when had anything in his life been fair?

He scrambled to his feet, circling, trying to create distance. Dani followed, unhurried, her movements economical and precise. She was not trying to end him quickly, he realised. She was studying him, cataloguing his reactions, his instincts, his weaknesses.

She threw a jab. He blocked.

She followed with a cross. He ducked.

She swept his legs and he hit the ground again, the impact driving the air from his lungs.

“Get up,” she said.

He got up.

She hit him again.

He got up.

She hit him again.

From the sidelines, Ray called out, “One minute forty. Looking rough, rookie.”

Sarah’s voice followed, tighter. “Dani, that’s enough. He’s—”

“He’s still standing.”

Makun wiped blood from his lip. His ribs ached, his shoulder throbbed, and his legs felt like they were made of lead. But he was still standing.

It was not that he could not react, he could, but for that he needed Ashe, if he entered the state he had been in against Zack York or Mark Kane, he would have reacted on instinct.

But he decided against that.

He still had not assimilated the memories from the deep, that was a task to scratch off his list.

Yes, he had some knowledge when it came to martial arts, however compared to Danielle who had practised longer than he had, and who seemed to have high aptitude, he could not hold a candle.

He could barely stand. However each exchange opened up a new world to him, every time she moved, every hit she landed, he learned something new.

That was what he was after.

Dani circled him, her dark eyes assessing. “You’re slow,” she said. “Your stance is sloppy. Your technique is self-taught at best.”

She paused.

“But you don’t stay down.”

Makun spat blood onto the dark floor. “I’ve had practice.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Interest? Respect? He could not tell.

She came at him again.

This time, something shifted.

He could tell what her move was from a glance. All the damage he took earlier paid off, some of the memories, the warrior memories from the deep, the ones he had not fully assimilated, suddenly clicked into place.

He did not block her punch.

Instead, he redirected it.

His hand moved on instinct, catching her wrist, using her momentum to pull her off balance. For one impossible moment, Dani stumbled.

He threw an elbow toward her face.

She caught it an inch from her nose.

They stood frozen, his elbow in her grip, her eyes locked on his.

Then she nodded.

A curt nod.

“There it is,” she said quietly.

She released him and stepped back.

“Two minutes fifteen!” Ray shouted. “I win!”

“You bet thirty that he’d surprise her,” Sarah said, already walking toward Makun with glowing hands. “Not that he’d last two minutes fifteen.”

“Same thing.”

“It’s not the same thing, Ray.”

Makun barely heard them. He was still staring at Dani, trying to understand what had just happened.

That feeling, it was not something he had planned. It had just happened. He could suddenly see through her attacks and knew not to block, not to dodge, but redirect.

Do I tap into that mode when berserk? He wondered.

Dani met his gaze evenly.

“You’re slow,” she repeated. “Your stance is sloppy. Your instincts are raw.”

She turned and began walking toward the exit.

“But you don’t stay down. And you’ve got something in you, something that doesn’t follow rules.”

She paused at the edge of the arena, looking back over her shoulder.

“Welcome to Team Seven.”

Then she was gone.

…

Sarah reached him first, her hands already glowing with soft blue light.

“Hold still,” she said, pressing her palms to his ribs. “You’ve got two cracked ribs, a bruised shoulder, and a split lip. Nothing I can’t fix, but you need to stop moving.”

Nothing new under the sun. Makun winced as warmth spread through his torso. “Does she do this to everyone?”

“Everyone new.” Sarah’s voice was gentle, soothing. “She beat Ray unconscious on his first day, even though he is not a warrior. We had people run away from Team Seven because of that.”

“Hey, I was drunk,” Ray protested, walking over. “Doesn’t count.”

“You’re always drunk.”

“Exactly, baseline.”

Makun looked between them, a strange feeling settling in his chest. It took him a moment to identify it.

Belonging.

He did not belong here, he barely knew these people. But there was something in the way Sarah fussed over his injuries, the way Ray made crude jokes to fill the silence, the way Dani had nodded when he surprised her.

Something that felt like the beginning of a team.

They were not as cold-hearted as they seemed to be in the beginning, maybe they would not make things too difficult for him.

They are not so bad after all.

Ray stopped in front of him, arms crossed, head tilted.

“So,” he said. “The spirits were right. You’re gonna be a lot of trouble.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Ray grinned, showing teeth. “Nah, I like work. Trouble brings work, it keeps things interesting.”

He clapped Makun on the shoulder, right on the bruise, and Makun hissed in pain.

“Welcome to the team, rookie.”

Sarah swatted Ray’s arm. “I just healed that!”

“Builds character.”

“That’s not how healing works, Ray.”

Makun watched them bicker, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the ache in his body.

Team Seven.

Interesting people, He nodded

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep