Mara entered the field at eight.
The three hundred Orcs retreated to the perimeter without anyone saying a word.
Mara stopped in the center.
"Drak. Brek. Keth."
---
Drak went first.
He threw his right fist with all his mass behind it.
Mara twisted her torso, let the fist graze her shoulder, used Drak's momentum to carry him forward. Knee to the side when Drak was half-fallen.
Drak hit the ground.
He got up. He tried the left.
Mara blocked it with her forearm, twisted Drak's arm, elbow to his back.
Drak hit the ground again.
A combination on the third attempt — two punches in a row.
Mara took the first, grabbed hold in the moment of impact, pulled. Palm to the chest.
Drak two meters back.
He nodded. He exited.
---
Brek didn't attack first.
He waited. He read.
Mara waited too.
Thirty seconds without movement. The field silent.
Mara launched the start of an attack — not the full attack, just the start.
Brek responded.
Mara used that response.
