Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 243: Mixed Martial Arts

When Eleanor entered the Mixed Martial Arts School, she found the same shade of darkness and the same absence of life. But this time, she knew Instructor Arrichion would be waiting in the dark room.

"Instructor, I am here for training," she said aloud, her voice carrying into the silence.

As expected, Arrichion emerged from the shadows. "You are here. Good. Follow me."

He led her into another room, which was a lot larger and bare in the middle. The walls were lined with shelves, each holding rows of neatly ordered weapons. In the centre of that immense space stood Instructor Arrichion, a mountain of a man whose stillness was more intimidating than any combat stance.

Eleanor followed and stood before him in her green robe and uniform. Her heart beat steadily, firmly, with determination. She had trained Martial Arts before... under Oswyn Elizabeth Raynor, the former clan head of the Raynor Clan. But this was different. This was under a conqueror, a true legend of Mixed Martial Arts.

"The foundation you possess is a scaffold," Arrichion’s voice boomed... not with sheer volume, but with a density that seemed to vibrate in her bones. "We will not tear it down. We will use it to build a fortress. Your mind is your greatest asset and your greatest liability. It records everything. But your body must feel it. Your bloodline gives you some advantage in learning, but not much in the reality of life and death. Today, you will learn to make your body remember."

He began to circle her like a predator weighing its prey. "I do not believe in styles. I believe in efficiency. In the singular, perfect motion to end a conflict. Not only a conflict... a true warrior can end a war if they can overwhelm their opponents completely. We will start with the three pillars... Structure, Breaching, and Finishing."

He paused, then commanded, "Structure is the most unbreakable form of a martial artist. All power flows from the ground... it is the root of the fighter. A tree without roots will topple at the slightest breeze. Now, assume your basic horse stance."

Eleanor slid into the stance she had first learned as a child in Teresa’s family dojo, later refined under Oswyn’s guidance. Feet spread wide. Knees pressed outward. Hips lowered into a controlled squat. Back upright, chest proud, spine slightly curved, but balanced.

"Adequate for a rookie. Useless for a master."

In a blur, Arrichion was behind her. His foot tapped the inside of her ankle. "Your root is narrow. A push here," his hand pressed against her shoulder, "and you fall."

She stumbled, catching herself just in time.

her concept of stance. He shoved her, kicked at her feet, yanked

floor! The academy’s nanobots in your body will respond once you command

it... a light stinging in her dominant muscles, spreading across her frame. Her body was shifting, ever so

step. Catch yourself with your structure. Again! Follow me in

Arrichion’s body... the precise tilt of his spine, the subtle shift of weight. But knowing was not the same as being. Her muscles screamed,

bones and muscles. The nanobots were rewriting her... mapping optimal firing patterns of neurons, adjusting tendon tension, refining muscle

not perfect, but it was different. Stronger. Firmer. More rooted

Arrichion shoved her this time, she swayed... but she

grunt that might have been approval was her only reward. "The scaffold holds. Now

Art of the Opening. You cannot break a fortress by pounding

lesson in anatomy and physics. Arrichion drew a practice dummy woven from enchanted straw out of his storage ring. It perfectly

didn’t strike the dummy’s legs. Instead, he tapped the side of its knee with the toe of his foot. There was a sharp crack as

leverage, angle of

He adopted a guarded stance. "Find the flaw. My weight is

lever," Eleanor answered instantly, memory rising

"Then use it."

She attempted the kick.

dummy. They move and retaliate. Calculate motion, probability, battle awareness." He caught her foot and with a gentle twist sent her crashing to the floor. "Knowledge is not

crystal clarity... dozens at once, an overwhelming flood of data. But her body was too slow. By the time she chose one, it was already gone. Arrichion was like an unbreakable wall, casually deflecting

gentle taps to her legs precise and merciless reminders. If he had truly struck, her bones would already

nerves. Her perception sharpened... the world slowing by a fraction. Her body moved before the thought had fully formed. She saw his weight shift, the

blocked it, but his block was no longer casual. He pushed her leg down. "Good. You