Vincent didn't flinch.
His hand gripped Randalp's wrist and flung him overhead. Randalp hit the stone with a thud and rolled to his feet.
No space.
Vincent was there again—right fist to the jaw. Randalp ducked it, punched him twice in the ribs, then stepped back.
Vincent didn't.
Another swing. Another press.
Every blow was forward. Pressure. Timing. No hesitation.
Randalp blocked the next two, then ducked low and went for the gut—landed it.
Vincent stepped through it and punched him in the mouth.
Randalp hit the ground again. Spit and blood. He pulled himself up before the second hit could land.
Vincent didn't chase. He let him rise.
Randalp didn't speak. Neither did Vincent.
Both men shifted again.
Second round coming.
Not a single ability used yet.
