The training ground is quiet, the air heavy with the hum of the day’s efforts. My eyes are fixed on her as she faces me, breath slightly uneven but determined. She’s been pushing herself for the last hour, but I know she’s capable of more. I’ve seen what she’s capable of, and I won’t let her settle for less than that.

“Focus,” I say, my voice steady but firm. “You’re not using your full potential.”

She looks at me, a challenge in her eyes, but I can see the frustration there too. It’s not easy for her to keep up, not with how intense I’m pushing, but that’s why I’m doing this. She’s stronger than she realizes.

I don’t give her time to hesitate. “Again. Faster. You’re holding back.”

With each move, I push her harder. Every time she falters, I push her further, never easing up. There’s no room for comfort here. Not while she’s capable of more.

“Good,” I murmur, watching her recover and push herself even more. It’s a soft praise, not something I give lightly, but I mean it. She’s stronger than she believes. “You’re getting there. Now again. Full force.”

I keep my distance, my eyes never leaving her form. I can see when she’s about to break, but I don’t stop. The training is brutal, but I know she needs this. She needs to see that she can handle the pressure, that she can go beyond what she thought possible.

Finally, when I see her nearing her limit, I step in, the faintest hint of approval in my voice. “You’re almost there. Don’t stop now.”

Her determination is enough. I know it is. And when she finally stops, breathless but proud, I can’t help but give her a small nod of approval. “That’s the level you need to be at. Keep that in mind.”