Nyx's POV
"Moving to combat forms," Mira announced. "Demonstrate the seven basic defensive positions."
This I could do. Muscle memory took over—my body moving through the forms Kael had drilled into me over and over. Each position flowed into the next, smooth and practiced.
"Speed is adequate. Precision needs work, but acceptable for eight days' training." Mira made notes on a tablet she carried. "Now offensive forms. The twelve-strike sequence."
My heart rate picked up. The offensive sequence was newer, harder. I'd only gotten it right consistently yesterday.
I moved through it, trying to remember everything Kael had taught me. Weight transfer. Hip rotation. Follow-through. Don't telegraph the strikes.
I made it to strike nine before my footwork faltered slightly. Caught it, corrected, finished the sequence.
"Footwork inconsistent," Mira said. "But recovering from errors shows awareness. Combat application next."
This was it. The part I'd been dreading.
