Beside him, Somto's eyes glinted, arms crossed calmly. But his fingers tapped an irregular rhythm against his bicep.
This fight was turning into something else.
—
Twenty five minutes in.
Nnenna hadn't landed a single hit.
But Nicholas?
He was beginning to slow down.
A fraction. But noticeable.
His punches weren't as tight. His breathing? Louder. Harsher.
He threw another spinning kick
Nnenna ducked under it, barely.
But this time, when she came back up, her eyes were steady.
Focused. Calculating.
She had noticed it.
His fatal flaw.
Nicholas was powerful, yes.
But he relied on brute strength too much. There was no conservation. No control.
And for the last twenty five minutes, Nnenna had done one thing...
Let him wear himself out.
But it came at a price.
Her sleeve was soaked in blood from a torn forearm.
Her ribs throbbed. One ankle was starting to swell. Her uniform clung to her with sweat, her breath came hard and fast, and yet...
She smiled.
