Max's First Fight

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Hello all,

I am sorry for the delay. I went back to first chapters and edited them to improve the reading experience. Nothing critical changed, so do not worry. One chapter today and two tomorrow to catch up with release schedule. Expect more chapters from now on.

Best,

Tripple1ZRO

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"Next up are Noah and Max." Said Instructor Bruins. He still looked as cold and stoic as ever. None of the previous fights have seemed to impress or worry him. It looked like the well-being of his students was the last thing on his mind. It looked like any one of them could die and he would not even blink. Well, the school's medical facilities were fantastic, as they housed healers, humans who were proficient in healing magic and could heal speed up the recovery time.

Hearing his name being called up, Max rose from the stands and looked at Andrew, whom he was expecting to say something encouraging. But the kid's head was only filled with improvement and competition, as he focused his anticipation powered gaze on the field, looking forward to capturing the entire fight, attempting to learn some of Max's weaknesses this way.

As Max made his way to the stage, he felt a sudden push on his left shoulder. Stopping and taking a look on what happened, he saw a boy rushing past him and hopping onto the stage.

"What are you doing? Can't you calm down? Why the rush?" Shouted Max with a sound that could only be heard by his opponent, worrying that his complains would be heard by Instructor. Knowing Instructor Brunt's personality, if he heard his complaint, he would beat the crap out of him and call him a not so manly word, saying that all he could do was complain instead of fighting.

Looking at the kid who bumped into him, Max recognized the boy as Noah Joon, the second son of the esteemed Baron Joon. Baron Joon was a strong knight who made a name for himself on the battlefield. An honorable man who dedicated his entire life to fighting on battlefields for the kingdom. For his outstanding service and dedication, he received an inheritable nobility title of a Baron, meaning that one of his descendants will inherit his position and become a Baron.

Noah was a stark contrast to his father's hard-won dignity, radiating a youthful arrogance that seemed to bubble from within. His eyes flickered with an almost predatory gleam, revealing his impatience to enter the fight. Tall for his age, Noah was lean yet muscular, testament to the training he'd undergone in preparation for challenging his older brother for the title inheritance. His dark hair was cut short, and his face was hardened by the countless hours spent in the practice yards, reflecting a discipline well beyond his years.

Stepping onto the stage, Max couldn't help but feel a tremor of unease, a sensation swiftly quelled by his determination. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, ready to face his opponent. His heart pounded against his rib cage like a drum echoing a battle cry. He knew he was the underdog in this fight, but he wouldn't go down without giving his all.

"Sorry Max for bumping into you earlier, I was just too excited to fight you. You have been the best in this class until now, but this ends now. The day I was born I was given a sword to grow up with. The second I learned how to walk; I was told to start running. I have been training and excelling in combat for years. I might not be the best in stamina due to my talent, but trust me, you would be better off conceding this fight. Instructor's fury might be scary, but my fists have no eyes" Noah went on a complete spree of a monologue as he expressed his thoughts.

Hearing the long speech, Max did not know how to respond. His mouth even started twitching, as he had never met anyone in this life who could be this shameless and confident. "If only I took some karate classes back then. Alas, the only thing I cared was pool."

"If you are ready, let's not waste any more time." Saying the words, Max gave a nod to Instructor Brunt.

"Begin!"

Noah wasted no time by walking step by step towards Max. His steps were slow, yet confident, clearly meant to intimidate the opponent and show his confidence.

As the two came closer to each other, punches and dabs started flying, mostly coming towards Max. The strikes were swift and aggressive. Noah's blows were precise and calculated, reflecting the thorough martial training he'd received. Max parried his attacks as best as he could, his body reacting more from instinct than any formal training.

Despite his valiant efforts, Max's lack of experience was glaringly apparent. His movements were hesitant, often leaving him a step too late in defending against Noah's relentless onslaught. He had no knowledge of the intricate techniques Noah skillfully employed, nor the footwork that allowed the latter to glide around the stage like a dancer in the throes of a furious performance.

Max fought back as fiercely as he could, his strikes fueled by raw determination rather than any practiced skill. However, his lack of proper training left him unable to effectively counter Noah's well-executed maneuvers. It was a fight between raw potential and polished technique, and the latter was winning.

As the fight wore on, Max's defensive stance wavered, his footwork stumbled, and his attacks grew increasingly desperate. Eventually, Noah landed a decisive blow, sending Max sprawling onto the ground. The fight was over.

"At this rate, my body will give away. I cannot keep being on the receiving end. My punches are quite powerful, so I only need to land one perfectly to probably knock him out. But this seems impossible. His evasion movements and defenses are great, each time I attempt to land hit, he defends, sees an opening, and strikes me there.

What if I sacrifice? I can leave opening on purpose to lure him in, and when he goes for it, I go in for a big punch. This is not very good, but at least I can see an opportunity to win with this strategy." Contemplated Max, while putting in the distance between them to catch a breath.

Seeing that his opponent was struggling and looking to put the distance in between, Noah instantly knew that the fight was coming to an end. Not surprising because of the number of attacks he had done during the fight.

Rushing toward Max for the few final moments, Noah said: "I am surprised that you are still standing. You are a true man. But I have to end this fight, so forgive me."

At this moment, readying up for the few final exchanges, Max held up his left hand, using it to cover the right side of his body, ribs in particular, while keeping his right hand high, showing his determination to continue despite the painful "injury" he received on the ribs.

Seeing this, Noah's eyes glinted with the anticipation of victory. The faintest hint of a smirk graced his lips as he lunged toward the apparent opening. He aimed a powerful punch towards Max's ribs, certain that this would be the final, decisive blow.

But Max had planned for this. The moment Noah moved in, he used his left hand to redirect Noah's attack, sacrificing a glancing blow to his arm. Simultaneously, he powered his right fist forward, aiming directly for Noah's exposed side. This was his gambit - his opportunity to land a solid blow.

Max's fist connected. Despite Noah's superior training, he hadn't anticipated this desperate strategy. A gasp escaped his lips as he staggered back, momentarily thrown off balance. But much to Max's disappointment, Noah quickly regained his footing. He hadn't hit hard enough or accurately enough to change the tide of the battle.

Noah straightened, eyeing Max with newfound respect. But in the end, Max's lack of training had caught up with him. His body, pushed to its limit, refused to cooperate any longer. As he attempted another punch, his legs wobbled, and he crashed onto the ground, the energy drained from his body.

"Winner - Noah," Instructor Brunt announced in his usual gruff voice. The crowd erupted in cheers for Noah, but many were looking at Max with respect. He had lost the fight, yes, but he had not backed down. He had faced a formidable opponent and fought till his last breath.

Max, panting heavily on the ground, managed a weak smile. He had done his best and had no regrets. "Next time, Noah... next time, the result will be different," he muttered to himself.