The morning of the fighting test dawned cold and crisp, with frost clinging stubbornly to the edges of the training field. Scarlett stood among the other juniors, nerves bubbling just beneath the surface.
She tightened the wraps around her hands, the sting of anticipation and the frosty air biting at her exposed fingers. Alex and Tasha stood on either side of her, each preparing in their own way.
"You’ve got this," Alex said, giving her a firm pat on the back. His confidence seemed unshakable, a stark contrast to Tasha, who looked slightly pale but resolute.
“Let’s hope I don’t embarrass myself out there,” Scarlett said, trying to sound lighthearted, though her stomach churned. She cast a glance toward the bleachers where the seniors had gathered. Her eyes skimmed the crowd until they
