Sparring Ring Or Infirmary Novels & Stories

I just entered the ring, removed my jacket, and stood opposite her. Her eyes snapped to mine. Neither of us spoke. I raised my hands. "Go." She lunged at me with no warning. The sparring wasn’t practice. It was punishment. It was the conversation we hadn’t had. Every block and strike came with weight behind it, a kind of fury I hadn’t seen from her since the facility. We circled each other on instinct, ducking, twisting, countering. I landed a hit to her side. She answered with a blow to my ribs that knocked the wind out of me.

"Forty minutes late." "I overslept. I'm sorry—" "I don't care. Get on the mat." "What?" "Gym duty means sparring. You're my partner for the morning. Get on the mat!" I walked over. There were no other students, it was just me, Jax, and Dante watching. This was going to suck. "Rules are simple," Jax said. "Pin your opponent or make them tap out with no serious injuries. Everything else is fair game." "I've never done this before—"

Ivan stands away from the circle, occasionally pacing once his worry and nervousness gets the better of him. Kain stands calmly in his white crisp shirt, waiting for me to finish my stretches. It’s been more than a few weeks since I had engaged in real brawling action, so my joints are a bit rusted and my closing wound is another story. Can I really do this? “You ready?” Kain asks. Of course I can’t. “Yeah.” I respond. I walk into the sparring circle now, taking a stance while Kain remains standing casually, one hand folded behind him while his whole body is open for an attack — which is most likely a big trap.

The machines and gear were modern, but the space looks old. Into the real heart of the facility—the weapons racks. Knives, swords, crossbows, and even firearms lined the shelves, each piece polished and ready for use. The weapons weren’t just for show; they were meant to be used for shady businesses. In the middle of the room stood a sparring ring. Tales can feel that in order to leave the ring, you have sparred until you couldn’t, and you have to do it over and over again until you had nothing left to give. Only then were you allowed to leave the ring.

I didn’t reply, and he didn’t wait for one. The sparring grounds were behind the estate, past a trail of gravel and arching vines. It was surprisingly simple. A ring-shaped clearing sat in the middle of the field framed by wooden fencing. Racks of gears and dummies were off on one side and the floor was made of smooth wooden tiles and felt warm beneath my boots. It was a war playground and I didn’t belong there. Varic was barefoot in the centre of the ring when I arrived and by the goddess, I froze. He was shirtless.

Thorne asked, narrowing his eyes at the exhausted, bruised prince. "I am going to prepare our counter-offensive," Tristan said. He looked at Saoirse. "I have an appointment in the sparring ring." **The High Keep – The Obsidian Atrium** The sparring ring was a sunken circular pit in the center of the High Keep’s atrium, originally used by the Imperial elite for ceremonial dueling. The floor was padded with dense, kinetic-absorbing synthetic sand. Tristan stood shirtless in the center of the ring. He wore only loose tactical trousers and hand wraps. His torso was a map of dark purple bruises from the Enforcer’s boots and the river impact.

Even with the air-con on in here, it’s warm. I tuck my phone and key inside one of the boots, and stride onto the mat. Pearson has also removed his trousers, shoes, and socks. Like me, he’s in shorts, a T-shirt, and bare feet. We step into the central sparring ring and begin to circle each other. I launch into an attack first, a fast combination. He blocks, then sweeps for my legs. I leap over his kick and, while still in the air, use the momentum to punch toward the right side of his ribs.

More like, he expressed annoyance and frustration towards me. Why? What did I do wrong? Ah! I forgot that I left him no choice but to hang out with Wunzena alone. He should be thanking me instead of glaring at me. He must have had a good time with his mate. "This is physical sparring; weapons, powers, and transformations are not permitted. The winner is the one who knocks their opponent to the ground first." Rowan instructed. "Get in your desired position." He then extended his right arm in between us and looked at us first before he signaled the start of our "friendly" spar.

She could see the intent in his eyes even before he kissed her. -=- *Sparring is a form of training common to many combat sports (e.g. karate(Kumite), aikido(randori), and taekwondo(kyorugi) to name a few) without landing heavy blows. The words inside the () are the different names given by the sport.

‘Are you familiar with the outdoor sparring ring on the west side of the territory? ‘There’s multiple outdoor sparring rings. Three on the west side. Can you be a bit more specific?’ I take a moment trying to remember the layout of the land as a lot has happened today and this concussion is not playing nice with me. ‘It’s between a small playground and the river.’ ‘Where everyone was brawling over a female in heat?’ ‘Yes.’ I’ve started into some deep breathing exercises in an effort to deal with the growing pain. ‘Yes, I’m familiar with the location. Is that where you’re at?’