"Is that truly the best New York City has to offer?" Haruto Yamamoto asked, stepping over Victor Grant's unconscious form. His voice carried across the silent hall like a death knell.
The Japanese disciples who had followed them into the building erupted in cheers. "Yamamoto-san! Yamamoto-san!" Their voices echoed off the walls, each chant driving deeper into the hearts of the defeated Chinese masters.
I pressed myself against the wall, watching the horror unfold before me. As a junior disciple of the Flowing River School, I'd only come to observe the alliance meeting. Now I was witnessing the systematic destruction of everything I'd believed in.
"Father!" Noah Grant crawled toward his fallen parent, his own injuries forgotten. Blood still seeped from the corner of his mouth, but desperation gave him strength.