The fourth student lunged.
Iva dropped to her knees—a move that drew gasps from the crowd, thinking she had given up. But she hadn't. She used the momentum of her fall to roll beneath the student's strike, came up behind her, and locked an arm around her throat.
Not hard enough to choke. Hard enough to hold.
The student struggled. Thrashed. Tried to throw her off.
Iva held on.
And held on.
And held on.
Until the student's hand slapped the mat three times in surrender.
Iva released her and fell back onto the mat, her chest heaving, her whole body shaking. She couldn't stand. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe.
But she was still conscious. Still fighting. Still alive.
The training hall was silent.
Then Marik's voice cut through the quiet.
"That's enough."
Iva closed her eyes, r
