Alexander steadied his breathing, the dull ache in his jaw a reminder of Kosmo's precision. The crowd had faded into the background, their murmurs and cheers blending into a distant hum. It was just him and Kosmo now—a battle of resolve, discipline, and pride.
With a snarl, Alexander surged forward, his white-armored frame a blur of power and intent. His first punch came low, a feint designed to draw Kosmo's guard downward. As expected, Kosmo deflected with a sharp parry, redirecting the blow harmlessly past his hip. Alexander grinned—he had baited the reaction. Pivoting on his rear foot, he brought his elbow around in a tight arc, aiming for Kosmo's temple.
Kosmo reacted instantly. His gauntlets glowed faintly, the shifting hues reflecting his focus. Raising both arms, he caught the elbow between his forearms, absorbing the brunt of the strike with practiced ease. The metallic clang echoed in the chamber as he used the momentum to twist Alexander's arm, forcing the soldier to step back and break the hold.
Alexander was unfazed. "Not bad," he growled, flexing his fingers to shake off the sting. His white armor's gem pulsed in rhythm with his heart, steady and unyielding. He adjusted his stance, tightening his guard. "But you're gonna need more than fancy gloves to keep me down."
Kosmo didn't respond. His calm demeanor was unshaken, his body language a study in efficiency. He shifted his weight subtly, his posture balanced and ready, his sharp eyes tracking Alexander's every move.
The next exchange was a blur of motion. Alexander pressed the attack, launching a series of punches and low kicks aimed at Kosmo's legs, each strike calculated to destabilize and reduce the risk of being caught. A jab to the midsection was parried downward, followed by a knee strike that Kosmo blocked with an x-guard of his forearms. Kosmo retaliated immediately, his gauntlets glowing faintly as he delivered sharp, targeted strikes to Alexander's joints and weak points, aiming to disrupt his balance and movement. Each retaliatory blow was calculated, leveraging the natural weaknesses of Alexander's anatomy. Though Alexander's armor absorbed the impacts like rain on a coat, Kosmo's precision began to force subtle shifts in the soldier's footing. Kosmo moved like water, flowing around Alexander's brute force with calculated grace.
But Alexander wasn't just relying on power. Years of combat training kicked in as he adapted his strategy. Feints turned into traps, his movements tightening as he sought openings in Kosmo's defense. A sharp kick to Kosmo's shin forced him to step back, and Alexander used the opening to close the distance, driving a shoulder into Kosmo's chest.
The impact sent Kosmo skidding back, his boots scraping against the smooth floor. He recovered quickly, his gauntlets flaring a sharp crimson as he shifted his stance. Alexander pressed forward, swinging a wild hook that Kosmo ducked under effortlessly. Before Alexander could reset, Kosmo countered with a precise strike to the inside of Alexander's knee joint, exploiting the natural joint movement and leverage of Alexander's body itself. The strike caused Alexander to stumble slightly but failed to cause significant damage.
Kosmo followed up by driving his knee toward Alexander's torso, aiming for the core to disrupt balance. Alexander grunted, the armor absorbing the impact with ease. Twisting quickly, Alexander threw a retaliatory elbow at Kosmo's head. Kosmo leaned back just in time, the blow grazing the air inches from his face. Using the momentum, Kosmo stepped inside Alexander's reach and locked his arms around the soldier's waist.
Kosmo's gauntlets flared, their energy surging as he pivoted and lifted Alexander off his feet. The crowd gasped as Kosmo executed a flawless throw, slamming Alexander onto the ground with a resounding crash. The impact rattled the chamber, though Alexander's armor absorbed most of the physical force. The psychological impact, however, was evident in his glare.
Alexander's chest heaved as he scrambled to his feet, his expression a mix of irritation and determination. His armor had deflected the worst of the blow, but Kosmo's calculated approach was getting under his skin. "Alright," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Guess you're not just some punk with fancy gloves."
Kosmo's silence was infuriating, a stark contrast to Alexander's fiery demeanor. The gauntlets' glow dimmed slightly as Kosmo settled back into his stance, his eyes never leaving his opponent.
The chamber seemed to hold its breath as Alexander launched himself forward again. This time, his movements were more calculated, his strikes precise and relentless. Kosmo met him head-on, their blows colliding in a symphony of metal and energy. Alexander's punches slammed into Kosmo's gauntlets, each strike sending sparks flying as the energy fields clashed. Kosmo's counters were sharp and efficient, targeting natural weaknesses in Alexander's anatomy, leveraging joints and body mechanics.
The crowd watched in awe as the two combatants danced across the battlefield. Each movement was a testament to their resolve, their determination to prove themselves. Sweat dripped down Alexander's brow as he gritted his teeth, his muscles burning from the relentless exchange. Kosmo, though visibly winded, maintained his composure, his gauntlets' glow steady and unwavering.
Finally, Alexander saw an opening. Feinting a jab, he shifted his weight and drove his knee upward, aiming for Kosmo's stomach. Kosmo moved to block, but the feint worked—Alexander's real strike was a powerful uppercut aimed at Kosmo's jaw.
The blow connected, snapping Kosmo's head back and sending him stumbling. The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps as Alexander followed up with a crushing elbow strike, driving Kosmo to his knees. For the first time, Kosmo's composure faltered, his gauntlets flickering as he struggled to rise.
Alexander stood over him, his chest heaving as he raised his fists. "Stay down," he growled, his voice dripping with triumph. "You've got nothing left."
Kosmo's head lifted slowly, his sharp eyes locking onto Alexander's. Despite the punishment he had taken, there was no fear in his gaze—only resolve. The gauntlets' glow intensified, their shifting hues settling into a brilliant crimson. Kosmo rose to his feet, his movements slow but deliberate, his posture unbroken.
The chamber fell silent as the two men faced each other once more. The tension was palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Kosmo raised his fists, the energy of his gauntlets crackling with renewed intensity. Alexander's grin faltered for a brief moment as he realized the fight was far from over.
"Una salus victis," Kosmo said, his voice steady and unwavering.
With a roar, Alexander charged, his armor's gem blazing with white light. Kosmo met him head-on, their clash sending shockwaves through the chamber as the crowd watched, captivated by the spectacle of strength and resolve.