Damon squared up against Ivan once more, the words from Whittier still ringing in his head.
This ti, Damon knew he had to be smarter, use his reach, keep Ivan at a distance.
Bouncing lightly on his toes, Damon felt the familiar tension in his legs, but now he was more focused. He wasn't just throwing low kicks, he had a plan.
Ivan stood opposite him, his eyes sharp, his stance lower than before, ready to pounce.
The Russian was no slouch. Damon knew that. He could already see the adjustnts Ivan had made from Whittier's advice.
As soon as Whittier gave the nod, the sparring resud.
Damon circled to the left, throwing a quick feint with his jab, testing Ivan's reaction.
This ti, he stayed further back, just out of range of Ivan's counters. He wanted to keep Ivan guessing, keep him on his toes.
Ivan shifted his weight, trying to close the distance.
Damon snapped out a jab, then imdiately threw a low kick to Ivan's leg.
The shin cracked against Ivan's calf with a solid thud, but this ti, Damon didn't stand still.
He pivoted away, resetting, creating distance once more.
"That's it," Whittier muttered under his breath, observing Damon's improved movent.
Damon threw another jab, followed by a quick one-two combo.
Ivan raised his guard, deflecting the punches, but Damon wasn't done. He launched a teep kick, driving Ivan back, forcing him to reset.
Damon grinned slightly; he could feel the rhythm coming together.
Ivan wasn't passive, though. As soon as Damon created distance, the Russian stepped in with a sharp overhand right, trying to catch Damon off guard.
But Damon had learned from the last round. He leaned back, narrowly avoiding the punch, then fired a swift front kick to Ivan's midsection.
Ivan grunted, stepping back as the kick connected.
Damon stayed on the outside, circling, keeping his jab snapping out, peppering Ivan's guard.
But he wasn't just looking to outbox Ivan, he wanted to mix it up, surprise him.
He watched Ivan closely, seeing how the Russian moved, how he responded.
Ivan, on the other hand, tried to find his own rhythm.
He faked a clinch attempt, but instead of charging in like before, he threw a quick body shot, followed by a looping hook.
The body shot was stopped by Damon, but the hook got through and hit him in the jaw.
Damon's head snapped to the side, he quickly straightened up and shook it off.
"Good shot," Damon muttered, acknowledging the hit.
Ivan grinned, knowing he had landed sothing solid. But Damon wasn't backing down. He was waiting for the right mont.
As the sparring continued, Damon threw a few more kicks, mixing them in with his punches.
But now, sothing was brewing in his mind. He had been working on a specific move, sothing he hadn't quite mastered yet.
But now, he was feeling confident.
He decided to go for it.
Damon feinted another jab, then leaned forward slightly, as if he was preparing for a low kick.
Ivan braced, lowering his guard to prepare for the impact.
But Damon's foot swung upward in an arc, going high instead of low.
It was the question mark kick.
The kick ca out of nowhere, and Ivan didn't see it until it was too late.
Damon's foot snapped up and over Ivan's guard, catching him on the side of the head.
Ivan stumbled back, clearly caught off guard by the unorthodox strike.
Whittier, standing on the sidelines, couldn't help but smile at the execution.
The kick had been smooth, and even though it wasn't perfect, it was close.
Damon was pushing himself, trying to expand his arsenal.
Ivan shook his head, clearing the cobwebs from the unexpected kick. But he wasn't out of it yet.
He reset, his eyes narrowing as he realized Damon was starting to mix things up.
The two circled again, this ti with both fighters more cautious.
Damon grinned, seeing that his kick had landed clean.
He could feel the montum shifting in his favor, but he knew Ivan wouldn't go down easy. The Russian was tough, and he had a good chin.
Ivan, determined not to let Damon control the pace, lunged forward, looking to clinch. But this ti, Damon wasn't having it.
He sidestepped, throwing a quick uppercut as Ivan missed the grab.
The punch grazed Ivan's chin, and Damon followed up with another low kick, chopping at Ivan's legs again.
This ti, Damon stayed light on his feet, bouncing in and out, using his reach to keep Ivan at bay.
He knew Ivan's strength was in closing the distance, so he made it difficult, forcing Ivan to work harder for every step forward.
"Better. That's what I want to see," Whittier called out, clearly impressed with Damon's adjustnts.
Ivan, sensing the shift, switched tactics. He faked another clinch attempt but threw a spinning backfist instead.
Damon barely ducked in ti, the fist whizzing past his head.
Damon retaliated with a body kick, the smack of his shin echoing through the gym as it landed cleanly on Ivan's ribs.
The sparring continued for another minute, with both fighters trading blows, each testing the other.
Damon was beginning to use his reach more effectively, keeping Ivan on the outside.
And while Ivan managed to get a few good shots in, Damon was in control.
Finally, Whittier clapped his hands again, signaling the end of the round.
Both Damon and Ivan stepped back, breathing heavily, but satisfied with the work they had put in.
"Good work, boys," Whittier said, nodding at both of them. "Damon, that question mark kick was slick. Keep working on that, and it'll be a weapon for you. Ivan, good adjustnts on the entries, but you've got to be quicker on the counters. Don't let him get comfortable."
Damon and Ivan nodded, both appreciating the feedback.
They bumped gloves, acknowledging each other's efforts.
It had been a good sparring session, and both knew they were sharpening themselves for the battles ahead.
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