Saewoo then hopped off the arena, allowing the contestants to come up.
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Maars wrote:As soon as Maarschalk was given the signal by the referee that the fight had started, he had begun to move towards his opponent. Her creamy pasty white ass nearly acted as a mirror, reflecting the sun into every direction. The robe of Maarschalk parted whilst he ran, arriving at an arm’s length away from his opponent who seemed to lock gazes. His teal blue gaze spoke of anger and fury; whereas her pupils spoke of tranquility. The great Maarschalk is relentless. No hesitation was to be found within his actions. It took but a whimsical moment to confront his opponent with great justice. His right shoulder was in front of his body as he moved. He brought his right hand closer to his left arm, slightly arching it; this was accomplished prior to arriving at a distance close enough to strike her.
The way he dealt his version of justice was by using his right arm like a whip. His arm found its speed immediately; his whip-like arm targeted her throat. Crushing her windpipe would most likely stop the battle. His right arm exhibited agility and flexibility that only few humans ever would achieve. Had she not moved in time, his hand could with great ease stop her ability to breathe for the remainder of the short fight. Maarschalks left arm was prepared to swat away any incoming fist or leg. His hand covered the front area of his torso. Maarschalk had no intentions exchanging blows, this was going to be a one-way-street where he dominates with overwhelming brute force. Maarschalk brought a wave of pure unadulterated violence. Given the opportunity, Maarschalk would retaliate appropriately at any given signs of offense. Of course, he certainly had the defensive force in mind as well. He wouldn’t allow his arm to overextend and cause it to end up in a vulnerable position. On the only exception being that he would allow it if it meant that he was to knock her out without receiving damage that would impact the match. His left arm was prepared for any kind of counter attack; in many ways. Should his foe use her arms to guard the location that Maarschalk was trying to hit, his left arm would move in and attempt to counter her guard – by either taking advantage of the fact that she’d have to expose parts of her body to Maarschalk. Maybe this was the day he could grab a titty and get away with it. Letting her go away certainly wasn't something Maarschalk would allow. They had been close to the edge of the fighting grounds. Moving left or right would mean that Maarschalk could easily strike her by readjusting where his arm is aimed at. Going back wasn't an option either; because of the short distance between him, her, and the edge of the plateau. It would most likely leave Maarschalk in range to hit her unless she decided to walk off of the plateau and hold onto the edge with her fingers.
Streaks of amber shortly after dripped onto the ground.
Had the hit landed, and knocked Arisa out, Maarschalk would move backwards, and then trash talk his opponent, because he basically beat her with a dab.
Arisa wrote:There she stood in her stance starring at him. The referee was yet to do the call to signal that the match has started. Her brown eyes looked at him as she saw his bathrobe, dark hair and his rather mysterious solid eyes. ''Name's Arisa...'' she would whisper softly as she tried to hold her confidence. She had to have some at least even if this dude was freaking seven feet tall and one inch - taller than her by a lot. He looked built, but before she could really look at this guy the referee would back away after signalling. Softly she'd breathe as he would come for her after the fact he took off his robe. Her innocence was gladly pure, therefore she would ignore what most females wouldn't as he went for her.
He would begin in a south paw stance. He would whip his right arm down towards her throat. This long arm strike would give her the opportunity to duck with her arms arching over her face and hand over her head. Her elbows would be over her chest and her hands would deflect the blows. She would dash quickly towards the inside of him starring at his defensive left hand all-the-while she was rushing inward, but her arms were still defensive as she closed the distance between her and his torso. If he were not to react within the time at all she would go for a cheap shot under the chin. However he were to react at all, her hands were remain a defensive posture over her head, ready to act and deflect any attack that he would throw at her.
Arisa wrote:This long arm strike would give her the opportunity to duck with her arms arching over her face and hand over her head. Her elbows would be over her chest and her hands would deflect the blows. She would dash quickly towards the inside of him starring at his defensive left hand all-the-while she was rushing inward, but her arms were still defensive as she closed the distance between her and his torso.
Maars wrote:Maarschalks whip-like arm had missed, perhaps he didn't arch his arm enough for it to connect. This wasn't important anymore though, his arm was over her entire body. Her back exposed to whatever momentum he could gain. Which is why he formed his whip-like arm into a fist now, with the flat side of his fist targeting her exposed back. His fist struck with great fury. Whilst this was happening, at the moment that his foe ducked; his left-arm reacted. Since it already was a lowered arm, Maarschalk moved it with great speed. Perhaps it wasn't fair -- but it was his justice. His left fist had been formed into an uppercut; targeting her soft stomach. More accurately, the area under her kidney.
Having your kidney punched with absurd strength is one of the most painful things a human can experience. Maarschalks kidney-punch came a fracture of a second before his right arm had connected with her back. Which likely resulted in more momentum gained from both sides. The devastation that his right arm brought was enough to rattle every bone in her body, whilst the power that his left arm managed to gather would force every organ in her body to react and possibly shut down her thinking from all the pain. Maarschalk didn't wait for the referee to call the battle. Instead he queued up a next strike, moving his whip-like arm back whilst also moving the rest of his body forwards, attempting to push the female who had been trying to snuggle onto him to the ground. Only to discover that the match had to be called; as Maarschalk had won.
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