"And that is it! An insane victory for Damon Cross!" The excitent of Jas Nix's shout echoed through the arena.
"Jas, I'm still stuck on that escape and reversal," Damien Korvier chid in, shaking his head in disbelief.
"The way he turned that position into a dominant one… that's not just talent. That's preparation, precision, and pure fight IQ. His groundwork is starting to catch up with his striking,and that's a scary thought for anyone in this division."
Nix nodded. "Well, it's not rare to see blood in the octagon, and tonight is no different, as tye dics deal with that cut on Calvin's nose."
In the cage, Damon stood still for a mont. The noise of the crowd made his chest heave.
The adrenaline still coursed through his veins, but the feeling of success was starting to set in.
He bent over, placing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, staring down at the canvas sared with blood, none was his.
He felt a firm pat on his back. Turning, Damon saw Victor, his coach's face beaming with pride.
Without thinking, they quickly embraced for a short ti as a way to show respect and congrats. Hugging Victor tight.
The rest of the group followed, one by one. Ty was first, dapping him up before pulling him into a quick, celebratory hug.
Ash was next, followed by the other coaches, their smiles and words of praise adding to the mont.
Then ca Svetlana.
As she walked through the crowd, she kept her eyes on Damon.
She walked right into his arms and wrapped herself around him without saying a word.
As he hugged her back, Damon let out a deep sigh. The stress in his body finally went away.
He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead and held it there for a mont while the noise in the arena seed to go away.
"You did it," she whispered softly.
Damon nodded but stayed silent, his mind already turning over the fight in his head.
Honestly, in Damon's opinion, this fight wasn't hard.
The stakes were big, sure. Defeating soone as well-known as Calvin Oland always brought fa, and with fa ca opportunities and chances to rise higher.
But in terms of difficulty?
No, it wasn't the toughest challenge he'd faced.
What stood out most to Damon was the move he pulled off on the ground.
That was the ga-changer.
Now, people knew he wasn't just a striker.
He could handle himself on the ground, at least well enough to neutralize and finish soone like Calvin.
It was a double-edged sword, though.
That mont would make waves, and it would also an future opponents wouldn't underestimate him there.
Which was good, not that he cared, he has said he wanted a challenge anyway.
As these thoughts ran through his mind, his team began clearing out of the cage, giving him space.
Damon watched as the referee motioned for both fighters to co forward.
Calvin walked over, his face showing care of losing, there was a bit of disappointnt but it wasn't that much, Damon stood across from him, his expression calm, but his mind focused on the mont at hand.
The referee grabbed both their hands, raising them slightly before looking to the announcer for the final signal.
As Deuce Baffer stepped forward with the microphone in his hand, his words echoed through the arena, making everyone wait in silence.
"Ladies and gentlen," he began, his tone commanding attention. "Referee Herb Walters has called a stop to this contest at 3 minutes and 45 seconds of the second round… declaring the winner by TKO…"
He paused dramatically, turning toward Damon, who stood tall and composed, sweat glistening under the bright lights.
"And still undefeated… DAMON CROSSSSSSS!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, their energy electrifying the arena as the referee raised Damon's hand high.
Damon took a deep breath, glancing at the crowd before nodding in acknowledgnt, his expression calm but resolute.
Damon noticed the announcer emphasizing "undefeated" before his na.
He liked the sound of it. He didn't know how long it would stay attached to him, but for now, it felt good.
With his hands raised and the crowd still cheering, his night in the octagon was officially over.
Damon turned toward Calvin, who was standing nearby, his expression stoic but respectful.
Damon walked over and extended his hand. Calvin looked at it for a mont, then took it.
They exchanged a few words, brief but genuine, before parting ways.
Damon headed back toward his team, who were waiting just outside the cage.
The mont he stepped out, he was t with cheers and pats on the back.
Victor grabbed his shoulder, nodding with pride, while Ty and Ash laughed, hyping him up.
Svetlana was there too, her smile bright as she hugged him tightly.
With the cheers still roaring around the arena, Demien Korvier entered the cage with a microphone in hand, ready to conduct the post-fight interview.
He approached Damon, who was still catching his breath, and began, "A wonderful win for you, Damon Cross! Now 8-0, adding another to your record. You pulled off so incredible things in that match, how, just how did you do that?"
Damon wiped his mouth with his glove before answering. "Thanks. Uh, I don't know. I an, everyone's seen knock people out or put them to sleep back in The Supre Fighter. Since then, I've just been training and improving. MMA's a broad sport, and if you only know one thing, you're a one-trick pony. So, I'm just making sure I'm not one."
Demien nodded, impressed. "Well, last ti you stood in the octagon, you called out the top 10. None of them responded to that call. Do you think after this win they'll consider you? Or maybe the UFA itself will step in?"
Damon turned to the crowd, the energy still electric. "They should respond. I'm not changing the callout. I want that championship, and I know I have to work my way up. They're on the way to it."
Demien smiled, raising his mic to the crowd. "Well, that's your winner tonight, ladies and gentlen, Damon Cross!"
The arena erupted in cheers once more as Damon nodded his thanks, leaving the mic behind to rejoin his team.
With his group surrounding him, they made their way backstage.
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