“Your eyes.”
“Your breathing.”
“Everything speaks before you move.”
Ryan had spent years learning how to attack.
But nobody had taught him how to truly observe.
And that was the difference.
Master Lee watched quietly.
Because he remembered.
Years ago, Daniel had taught him the same lesson.
Daniel wasn't known because he was the strongest fighter.
He was known because he understood fighting.
Ryan became more aggressive.
His pride was hurt.
He wanted to prove himself.
He rushed forward.
And that was his mistake.
Daniel stepped aside.
A simple movement.
A gentle touch.
Ryan lost balance and fell onto the mat.
The dojo went completely silent.
Nobody laughed.
Nobody celebrated.
Everyone was shocked.
Ryan quickly stood up.
Embarrassed.
“That was luck.”
Daniel nodded.
“Maybe.”
The answer surprised him.
Daniel wasn't arguing.
Wasn't showing off.
Wasn't trying to win.
He was teaching.
Ryan attacked again.
This time slower.
More carefully.