Bloodstock Island

Chapter 12

Tension increase as Max could sense his sweat building up. The way the other guy looked at him says a lot. A dreary sensation crept into him. With how the new kid said those words, it made him feel so little and stupid.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grumbles, brows furrowing when he noticed how the guy’s grimace widened.

Spartacus rested his chin on one hand, taking a deep sigh, contemplating, choosing what to say. It took him a good while before saying.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

His voice now became more subtle, caring, even. Though his grin remains, the expression he had brought a different vibe. It was as if he was trying to understand what was going on in there.

“I wouldn’t be asking.”

He says.

Another chuckle escapes the guy, slapping his knee in amusement. It made every muscle in him tense, almost losing breath from the laughing uncontrollably.

Max remained silent, feeling awkward from the sudden banter. He didn’t know how to react to it, considering it was the first time someone laughed at their situation.

A few minutes past, before the lad finally stops. But still continued to wheeze from holding it in.

“Wait, before that. I need to make sure you’re the real deal.”

He says after a good wiping of tears and clearing his throat.

Again, Max got stunned. Lips purse, he tried thinking about what he meant. The confusion sank in on him, not grasping what their conversation was about.

“I don’t understand?”

He scratched his head, trying to figure it out. What exactly was it was that he needed to prove.

“I want to make sure of something.”

Spartacus heaves a sigh, smile turning serious. His gaze now had this shadow while he contemplated. Both hands were on his chin, eyes narrowed at him.

“Okay, and how are we going to do that?”

Max lifts a brow.

Though he couldn’t discern the whole meaning behind the man’s words. His unconscious mind was urging him to go along with it.

Once he said that, Spartacus glances at a rack on his side, bobbing his head to make him look. On the wall, a set of gloves and safety gears hanged.

When their gaze met, both of them had this wide grin.

Now this was a thing he can agree on and understand. Though still boggled by the idea, if his strength and skill are all that needs to be gauge, then he had no problem with it.

Upon seeing how his eyes lit up. The fellow’s expression became more clear, happy, and enthusiastic.

“A little spar ought to do it. But this time, no holding back until one of us is on the floor.”

Spartacus stood up, muscles bulging from his shirt from starting his stretches. Each motion he’d do emphasized the cuts and size of his frame.

Max began doing the same, not falling behind in terms of his form. His adrenaline was pumping again, but this time, it made him feel good, knowing he can go all out.

“So first one to fall loses? You’re on!”

He states.

They had no qualms with the equipment, hurrying to put it on. Fist nicely tucked, face helmet secured, and with their shirts off. They head straight for the makeshift ring there.

It was a great thing coach Vavenski kept the place tidy, preserving the old fighting area.

“A take down is all we need to decide the winner.”

Spartacus lifts a finger, clarifying the times and requirements they needed in order to achieve victory.

“No problems with that.”

He states.

A good simple rule, just the way he likes it. Both of them exchanged smirks, cracking their fingers underneath their gloves, tightening each other’s knuckles for the fight.

Their blood surged, rushing through their veins, heart racing in anticipation.

When they were both done with their stretching, they move for the opposite sides, giving each other a suitable distance.

“We start when this towel hits the floor.”

The guy lifts the cloth around his neck, swirling the material over him in preparation.

Max bobs his head in agreement, taking a pose as he readies himself for their bout.

The moment the rag flew into the air, their senses goes into overdrive. Time became slow, with their attention on the signal and the opponent in front.

When the thing landed on the floor, both youngsters dash forward. Arms upfront in defense, the other behind, pulled back in preparation.

Once more, they throw their fist at each other in a manner befitting of warriors. The sounds of flesh hitting one another resounded throughout the small space.

Both youth wince, grinned, and groan from each strike, yet the sensation of being high in adrenaline numbed the pain.

This continued for a good few minutes, none of them backing down. They had this intense exhilaration from receiving the weight of their blows, along with giving their maximum strikes. The rush of the fight became serious when they got familiarized with each other’s moves.

Mind and body being tested, they increase their focus on how to win. With Max opting for a grab when a chance presented itself.

But Spartacus was at the ready, having prepared a countermeasure for his hold. As he had baited him into doing the move, he takes a strike on the side of his opponent’s chest, smirking when he felt hard muscle on his knuckles.

Max’s sacrifice did not go in vain, having readied himself for it. He lets out a grin before grabbing the guy.

He caught the fellow by surprise, enduring the punch to the gut. He’d prepared for it and had trained for such a blow that it seemed like nothing to him.

With one swift move, he gets a tight hold of him, not wasting the opportunity. With a twist of his hand, a turn, and a kick to the feet, he throws him down before putting him into a lock.

Silence took over them the minute the other falls, fist touching the tip of the guy’s nose, stopping midway to show his dominance.

They stayed in place for a few moments, letting the rush calm, waiting for their bodies to cool down. Their breathing was heavy, they’d smell each others musk, their fallen sweat mixing in on the floor.

As they both remained steady for a few seconds, it was then that Spartacus taps his shoulder in surrender, having confirmed what he needed. With a smirk and a chuckle, the guy finally relaxes which prompted Max to let go.

“Good enough for you?”

He sneers at his opponent, offering a hand to help him stand up.

“You passed.”

The fellow shrug it off, pushing him aside in a playful nudge, making both of them laugh.

“I kicked your ass, man!”

Max does his victory pose and re-enacts the throw he did a moment ago. Along with a few more kicks and punches, showing off how he got him to fall for the trick.

“I was being gentle with you.”

Spartacus’s grin grew wider, watching how he made those odd motions.

Again, they were back to the friendly and light conversation they had a while ago. And with that, they both head down in arms, finally at ease with each other.