Tre’Yan felt a thrill of elation as the punch had hit. But that brief moment of satisfaction evaporated as soon as it formed. Dyayun was changing stances and firing off a right jab. The punch was a beautiful counter, rocketing forward towards Tre’yan’s face. Shrugging his shoulders and dipping his chin to the right, the jab struck full force against the left cheek bone with incredible force.  

Had Tre’Yan not been dead already, the punch would have killed him. As it were it was a painful blow, causing a flutter in his knees. It was clear that Dyayun had come to fight. But Tre’yan was a deadly fighter in his own right, and through rote he was already reacting with a long practiced combination.

His left hand erupted up in a wicked uppercut to Dyayun’s body, under his extended right arm. The blow was designed to be hidden, sharp and punishing. Coming up under the extended right arm, it would hit Dyayun’s body just below the right rib cage, in the solar plexus as it were. While both men were dead, the punch ratcheting up with the deadly hand speed of Tre’yan would be painful. If this were a normal man, the blow would remove a great deal of the juice from his tank.  Nothing in a fight was a painful as an unexpected punch to the body. 

Once that upper cut made contact the other half of the combo, a straight right hand to the face, would follow in a fraction of a second. Shooting in, along the same lines that Dyayun had thrown his jab, a returning jab followed. The blow aimed for the chin of the once feared champion. Could Dyayun protect himself? Of course but if he made a mistake in his defense Tre’Yan would capitalize on it in a hurry. 

Tre’yan had faster hands and fast hands could make up for heavy hands in a fight. Now the adrenalin was coursing through his veins, the fight was engaged and blows had been exchanged. It would come down to a combination of strategies and counter-punching to win this fight. Something Tre’Yan was amply skilled at.