Royal Road
Chapter 331 It's Time
Standing in the middle of the octagon, Deuce Baffer looked around the room. His presence was as strong as ever as he raised the mic to his lips, despite the fan less room
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," he began, his booming voice cutting through the air. "THIS IS THE MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!"
Every eye in the arena was locked on him, and even the cameras seemed to zoom in, amplifying the moment.
"SANCTIONED BY THE UNITED FIGHTERS ASSOCIATION UNDER THE NEVADA ATHLETIC COMMISSION, THIS BOUT IS SCHEDULED FOR THREE ROUNDS IN THE MIDDLEWEIGHT DIVISION! YOUR JUDGES CAGESIDE ARE MARCUS HENDERSON, DANIELLE BROOKS, AND RAFAEL SILVA. AND WHEN THE ACTION BEGINS, YOUR REFEREE IN CHARGE, HANK BINN!"
Deuce paused for a moment, his dramatic flair drawing out the tension. "AND NOWWWW…"
His voice dropped slightly before building back up. "FOR THOSE IN ATTENDANCE AND THE MILLIONS WATCHING AROUND THE WORLD…"
He stepped forward, his voice a crescendo. "IIIIIIIIIITTTTTSSSSS TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMEEEEEEEEEE!"
The walls shook with the thunderous declaration as Deuce held the moment in the palm of his hand.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
"THE MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING…THREE ROUNDS IN THE UFA MIDDLEWEIGHT DIVISION!"
Turning to the blue corner, Deuce began his first introduction.
"INTRODUCING FIRST, FIGHTING OUT OF THE BLUE CORNER! This man is a mixed martial artist holding a professional record of 8 WINS, NO LOSSES. Standing 6 feet 2 inches tall, weighing in at 185 POUNDS. FIGHTING OUT OF LIMERICK, IRELAND … THE UNDEFEATED… DAAAMONNNNNN CROOOOOOOOOSSSSS!"
Damon raised his fists as the small but loyal cheers came from his corner and team. His face remained calm, focused, as his mind locked onto the task ahead.
Then, Deuce pivoted dramatically to the red corner, the dominant side of the octagon. Enjoy new tales from empire
"AND NOWWWWW… INTRODUCING HIS OPPONENT, FIGHTING OUT OF THE RED CORNER! This man is a wrestler holding a professional record of 24 WINS, 8 LOSSES. Standing 6 feet 1 inch tall, weighing in officially at 185 POUNDS. FIGHTING OUT OF OSLO, NORWAY … JAAAAKE 'THE JOKER' ARMANNSSSSSOOONNN!"
The room erupted with applause from those backing Jake, as his stoic expression broke into a faint smirk. Jake's corner stood tall, their belief in their fighter unshakable.
His experience, his reputation, and his grappling pedigree were all etched in the minds of everyone watching.
Deuce stepped back, raising his arm.
The commentators wasted no time diving into the narrative of the fight as the fighters prepared in their respective corners.
"This is such a fascinating matchup," Rick began, leaning forward in his chair. "Damon Cross stepping in on just three weeks' notice, and against someone like Jake Armansson, no less. This is a huge risk for the young undefeated fighter."
Michael nodded, adding his perspective. "Absolutely, Rick. But with big risks come big rewards. If Damon manages to pull this off, his stock is going to skyrocket."
Rick chimed back in. "Let's not forget, though, the short notice affects both fighters. Damon had to prepare for an elite grappler like Jake in just a few weeks, but Jake's in a tough spot, too. He was originally training for a completely different opponent. That's a whole new set of challenges."
Michael nodded. "Exactly. Jake was preparing for someone else entirely, someone with a different style, tendencies, and skillset. Now, at the last minute, he's facing an undefeated striker who also showed he can handle himself on the ground in his last fight. That kind of adjustment is no joke."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "Do you think Jake's experience gives him the edge in handling that adjustment?"
Michael paused thoughtfully. "It might, but experience doesn't negate the unpredictability of a new opponent, especially one as dynamic as Damon Cross. Damon's young, he's hungry, and he's willing to take risks. That makes him dangerous."
Rick leaned back, setting the stage. "This fight is a gamble for both men. For Jake, it's about maintaining his spot in the rankings. For Damon, it's about proving he belongs at the top. One thing's for sure, this main event has everyone talking."
The camera cut back to the fighters.
The referee, Hank Binn, stepped into the center of the octagon, motioning for Damon Cross and Jake Armansson to join him.
The two fighters walked forward, Deuce Baffer leaned in slightly, holding the mic close to the referee.
"Alright, gentlemen, this is the main event of the evening," Hank began, his tone firm yet calm. "You both know the rules. Protect yourselves at all times. Follow my instructions at all times. If I say stop, you stop. Touch gloves if you want to now, and let's keep this clean."
Damon extended his gloves forward, his expression calm but focused.
Jake then touched gloves with him briefly, his eyes locked on Damon's.
"Let's do this," Hank added before motioning for the fight to begin.
The referee, Hank Binn, looked at Damon first. "Ready?" he asked.
Damon bounced lightly on his toes, his arms loose and his breathing steady.
He gave Hank a casual thumbs-up, his face calm and confident. At 6'2" maybe even 6'3", probably 6'2½", either way, he had a slight height advantage over Jake, though it wasn't much.
Jake Armansson stood across the octagon, nodding in response to the referee's question.
His stance was firm, hands raised high, and his body language exuded focus.
His demeanor was intense but not over-the-top.
There was no trash talk, no unnecessary theatrics, just the quiet resolve of a seasoned professional who had been here before.
Jake's head bobbed slightly as he shifted in place, loosening his shoulders.
His gaze locked onto Damon, studying his every movement like a predator sizing up its prey.
He rolled his neck briefly, then planted his feet, signaling that he was ready.
"Ready," Jake said, his voice calm but firm, with the same composed energy that fit a very skilled wrestler that was ready for a an unerving fight.
Hank glanced between the two fighters one last time, ensuring they were both prepared. "Fight!" he shouted, stepping back to let the action begin.