Garrick, a broad-shouldered Layer 2 brute growled and charged first, leading with a heavy punch. Sol didn't dodge dramatically. He simply shifted half a step, caught the wrist mid-swing, and used the man's own momentum to spin him like a child's toy.
Garrick flew ten feet and crashed into two of his comrades who were already rushing in. The three of them tumbled in a heap of limbs and curses.
"First lesson," Sol said calmly, loud enough for the entire yard to hear. "Don't mock what you can't protect. Especially not my woman…or those under her protection."
Zeyra's breath caught as she watched. Her heart hammered wildly, but it wasn't fear. It was awe. Sol moved like liquid shadow among stone, effortless and terrifyingly precise. Every time a fist or kick came close, he flowed around it or absorbed it without flinching. She felt her cheeks heat again, but this time from a fierce, glowing pride.
Beside her, Zeyra's reaction was far more visceral.
