Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 969: But Marisa grabbed Ethan's arm and pulled him toward Baylor. She recognized that, coward or not, Baylor's instincts were right. If they lingered, Maia might be forced to defend them, slowing her down at the worst possible moment. Across the ring, Tyrant's expression grew dark with concentration. With every miss, frustration mounted as he struck nothing but empty space. At first, he'd assumed Maia simply relied on quick feet and athleticism to avoid his attacks. A few exchanges later, experience told him something deeper was at play. This wasn't just about speed.

Maia wielded absolute command over the tempo, dictating every beat of their contest. From the crowd, a spectator leapt to his feet and shouted, "What is happening right now? Look at how perfectly she dodges!" Others joined in, voices rising with excitement. "Does she know exactly where Tyrant's swinging? Is Maia reading his mind or something? At this rate, Tyrant's going to tire out and lose in front of everyone!" Lively chatter rippled through the audience, every corner filled with startled excitement.

For a moment, the host could only stare, words catching in his throat as disbelief took over. "Can someone really reach such a height? In all my years here - no, in all my days breathing - I've never come across a fight scene so extraordinary." Up in the highest seats, Raegan watched, tension pulling her brows tight. Her gloved fingers traced the rim of her mask, and her gaze sharpened with true seriousness. It wasn't the first time she had underestimated Maia, but each time, Maia had proved her wrong. This time was no exception.

Lɑτєѕτ cнαρτєrs n glovєl.o At first, Raegan had chalked up Maia's win against Viper to dumb luck or some secret training. The idea that Maia might actually be a true master never occurred to her until now. Yet, there was something unsettling - no records hinted at Maia's experience. Training histories were blank. Nothing in the archives pointed to a decorated fighting past. Nevertheless, the way Maia moved, the uncanny awareness, and a perfect sense of rhythm outstripped even Tyrant, the so-called king of the arena. It was staggering to witness.

Everything about Maia's form looked unfamiliar - nothing matched the martial arts Raegan had studied. Instead, Maia wove together elements from different disciplines, building a fighting style that was sharp, agile, and unapologetically effective. "Who could have possibly been Maia's teacher?" Raegan whispered this under her breath, and the shadow of The Mask's leader drifted through her mind. That individual was the only one in her memory whose fighting style blended all sorts of martial disciplines. Was it possible that Maia had picked up those moves from him?

A sharp worry stabbed at Raegan. Her thoughts spiraled, for she had no proof, but jealousy and resentment swirled in her eyes whenever she looked at Maia. Tyrant came to a sudden halt right then. No sign of exhaustion marked his face, and his breathing remained steady. He slowly drew back his fist, a strange spark flickering in his gaze. "Well, this is entertaining!" he exclaimed, his laughter rumbling across the room. "You've got some real talent. It's rare to come across someone like you these days." . . .