Unchi

Unchi hits the ground, again, a cloud of dust rising from the training yard. The novices watching by the frozen lake always whisper that it's over. The older contenders, those with a few worn bandanas to their name, call it a strategy—a feint to draw an opponent into a false sense of victory. They claim Unchi’s dazed expression is an act. But their master, who watches from the steps, knows the truth. Unchi’s power isn't in their fists, but in the rock chakra humming on their back. When their conscious mind is stunned, their primal link to the earth takes over. The ground itself answers the blow. The real fight isn't against the opponent; it's with the stone beneath them, and the stone always wins.