The sparring ring fell silent as the other squad members gathered around, their curiosity piqued. Renard stepped forward with a calm, almost predatory confidence, his movements fluid and precise. He carried himself like a man who had honed every fiber of his being for battle. It was evident why he was a captain—his stance alone exuded authority and experience.
Asher mirrored him, his posture straight, arms loose but ready. Though his system-enhanced fighting skills made him a martial arts grandmaster in technique, his E-rank body lacked the raw physical power and durability of an A-rank like Renard. This was a battle not just of skill, but of sheer physical superiority.
Renard struck first, his movements a blur. A high kick aimed for Asher's temple forced him to duck, but the follow-up punch landed squarely on his ribs. The impact reverberated through Asher's body, sending him staggering back.
"Fast," Asher muttered under his breath, wiping his mouth. Renard smirked.
