Quinlan narrowed his eyes. Fine. He'd stop trying to move the mountain.
He'd become the mountain's storm.
No more hesitation. No more doubt. He would pour his entire being into the battle.
He surged again, this time weaving all three elements into his martial rhythm. Fire for speed and power, water for fluidity and adaptability, earth for balance and rooted strength. Each strike flowed into the next, his feet dancing across the courtyard, his hands blurring with the artistry of a warrior in motion.
It was no longer just technique but the combination of instinct, heart, and spirit.
A sweeping elbow powered by liquid force. A hammering punch grounded in stone. A rising knee that ignited in flame.
He struck with the precision of a master, and yet…
Still… nothing.
That is, until Rongtai moved.
One slow step forward.
Just one.
The moment his heel touched stone…
*BOOM!*
