The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy

Chapter 0346



Chapter 0346

"Just don't blow my cover," he murmurs, rubbing my back for a moment as the bell sounds again and the fight starts anew.

I watch carefully as Luca and the Atalaxian champion come together again and again, sometimes trading blows, sometimes moving in fast just to dodge away again. Luca, I notice, gets in quite a few combinations that look very impressive and which always make the crowds cheer. But Rafe, still standing close at my side, doesn't cheer along.

I can't help glancing up at him, wondering what he's seeing that others aren't. Because to all means, it looks like Luca is doing much better than our enemy. "Tell me," I urge, somewhere in the third round.

Rafe glances down at me for a second, I think deciding whether or not I actually want to hear it, but when I look up at him with pleading eyes he leans closer to me. Luca's doing great," he says, and I nod, recognizing that. "But, tell me what you're seeing with the Atalaxian."

I turn my eyes back to the ring, studying him. "He's advancing a lot," I say, narrating what I see happening in front of us, and slightly below. The ring - it's really not very far at all - close enough for me to see Luca's muscles shake whenever he delivers one of his shattering blows. "But not...not punching very much?"

"Look harder," Rafe murmurs, instructing me and sounding a lot like dad.

I frown a little, trying to figure it out. And then, as I watch more closely, I realize that the Atalaxian is landing a lot of blows, just not to Luca's face. "He's hitting Luca a lot in the sides," I say quietly, as if it's a secret between us. "Whereas Luca's hitting the Atalaxian a lot in the head."

"Good," Rate murmurs, and Daphne glances up at us, likewise listening and wanting to learn more. "I think that's both of their strategy laid out." "Okay," I huff, rolling my eyes a little, "and in terms I can understand, now?"

Rafe smirks a little. "Luca's strategy is to beat the shit out of him, to hurt him as much as he can as early as he can, to get as many points from the judges as possible." "Sensible," Daphne murmurs, her eyebrows going up.

"Indeed," Rafe says, glancing down at her, pleased, before he continues. "But the Atalaxian - he's playing the long game here. See how he's making Luca dance, always pressing him?"

I watch carefully, and see that Luca is indeed moving his feet probably twice as much as the Atalaxian, always dodging backwards, always getting out of the way as the Atalaxian moves steadily forward.

"What's that mean?" I whisper.

"It means that he's wearing Luca down," Rafe says, his voice a little grave. "And see all those body blows?" Rafe raises his chin now to where the Atalaxian hits Luca again and again in the sides and the ribs.

"Yes?" Daphne says, her voice distracted as she keeps her eyes trained on Luca.

"Those are agonizing," Rafe says, probably from experience. "Especially that often, again and again? They're exhausting, and they make you want more than anything - to drop your hands and block the blows."

"Which leaves your head open..." I murmur, my eyes going wide as I put it all together.

"For the knock-out blow," Rafe finishes, nodding, worry all over his expression.

"Shit," Daphne says as she figures it out alongside me.

"He's wearing Luca down," I whisper, suddenly horribly anxious again. "So that he can finally make that big swing that will take Luca out. What's Luca's recourse here?" "To not get tired," Rafe says, his voice a little sarcastic, because that's basically impossible. "Or to go on major offensives, which he's trying to do - to get this asshole against the ropes and just wail on him. But the Atalaxian - he's not weak enough for that yet."

"Shit," I sigh, folding my arms over each other. "So now it's just a waiting game? To see who runs out of steam first?"

"Yup," Rafe says.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

"Tequila?" Jesse offers, holding out another shot to me. I sigh, but feeling the anxiety raising in my best at this new perspective on the fight - I accept it from his hand. The shots go around again, and we all drink, and train our anxious eyes back on the fight.


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