Chapitre 37: 1st Year Practical Sparring Part 2

Jame eagerly shook George's hand. "Yes!" he said, his enthusiasm clear.

George sighed in relief, probably happier about the arrangement than Jame was. However, as their hands clasped, George noticed Jame's grip was surprisingly strong—almost twice as strong as his own. 'Maybe this is still a bad idea...' George thought.

Around them, students were quickly pairing up, entering their sparring circles and pushing each other out in rapid eliminations. As students fell, one by one, they could do nothing but wait for the next round to find new opponents.

"YOU!" Akshar bellowed, pointing directly at Peyton.

Peyton rolled his eyes. "Next round... Can't you see I've already got someone lined up beside me?" he replied, gesturing to the student standing next to him.

Frustrated, Akshar gritted his teeth, turning to the unlucky student who was left standing alone without a sparring partner. "YOU!" he growled.

The kid glanced around, desperately searching for another opponent, but it was too late. Everyone else had been eliminated. "Crap!" he cursed under his breath as he stepped into the circle with Akshar.

Akshar followed, extending his arms. The moment the spar began, Akshar closed the gap with frightening speed and brute force, shoving the poor kid out of the circle effortlessly.

The student hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. From his perspective, Akshar was a monster—a barbarian with strength that defied reason. Any attempt at using martial arts techniques had been pointless against such overwhelming power.

Akshar left the circle with a self-satisfied smirk, while Peyton and his new opponent entered the ring.

This sparring match was different from the previous one. Both Peyton and the other student got into a proper stance, their hands open instead of curled into fists. Knowing that punches and kicks were illegal in this kind of sparring, they adapted their technique accordingly.

The two locked hands, pushing against each other. The strain on the other student's face was immediately apparent as he tried to hold his ground against Peyton's strength. His muscles trembled, and his breathing became labored as if he were trying to push against an immovable object.

Meanwhile, Peyton remained calm, his face barely showing any effort. After 32 seconds, he casually pushed his opponent out of the circle. It wasn't as flashy as Akshar's one-second win, but it was still impressive, given the skill of his opponent.

Watching this, George felt a twinge of fear. He gulped, his hand reflexively covering his neck. There was no official "worst student" in Class C, but if anyone were a contender for the title, it was Jame. And losing to him would be a disaster—especially for someone like George, who many had speculated might belong in Class A. Being defeated by the class nerd, known only for his notebook of rumors, would ruin whatever reputation George had.

'Relax... you've been working for this,' George told himself, trying to calm his nerves.

Jame raised his hands, mimicking the stance Peyton and his opponent had used. George, however, didn't adopt any stance. Instead, he began bouncing lightly on his feet, slowly circling around Jame, who, in turn, kept his eyes fixed on George but started to feel a bit dizzy from all the turning.

Peyton, observing the scene, raised an eyebrow in confusion. 'Why isn't he just eliminating him already?' he thought.

Suddenly, George lunged at Jame, his body low to the ground, aiming for his legs. He managed to grab hold of one of Jame's legs, but Jame instinctively tensed his muscles, resisting George's attempt to bend them.

'Wait, why does his grip feel so weak?' Jame wondered for a moment. But just as the thought crossed his mind, George lifted him off the ground and slammed him onto the floor, releasing his hold and stepping back.

Jame scrambled to his feet, ready to continue, but the instructor stepped in. "Why are you still standing here? You've been eliminated," he said matter-of-factly.

Jame glanced down at the floor, realizing he was outside the circle. He sighed. 'So... I'm out already.'

In just 45 seconds, George had secured a single-leg takedown, sending Jame flying out of the circle. It should have been an impressive move, but to the rest of the class, it barely registered. They had expected something more—perhaps a swift victory like Akshar's or Peyton's domination. Instead, George's win over the relatively unknown Jame felt average at best.

'Damn it...' George clenched his fists, frustrated by the class's lackluster reaction. 'Making these guys happy is harder than I expected.'

"Alright! Time for the second round!" the instructor's voice cut through the crowd, drawing everyone's attention once more.

The weaker students quickly sought out opponents of similar strength, hoping to avoid sparring against the stronger students in the class.

Jame wasted no time picking his next opponent, choosing among the remaining weaker students—those still far stronger than the average person, but at least they wouldn't slam him around like George had. 'So much for losing without pain...' he thought, rubbing his back.

George avoided making eye contact with Peyton, whose prowess in the ring was undeniable. After witnessing how Peyton had humiliated Akshar, George knew he wasn't ready to take that risk.

"Would you like to spar with me?" The student who had sparred against Peyton approached George, his voice low and steady.

Without hesitation, George nodded. "Sure."

If he were being honest with himself, George would have preferred a weaker opponent—someone he knew he could easily defeat. But accepting the challenge was a necessary step in maintaining his place in the class. He couldn't afford to lose face now.