CHAPTER 774: CHAPTER 774: BREAK THE HOLD

Arman stayed tight on top, his pressure heavy and calculated. He didn’t rush for ground and pound.

He was patient, classic grappler style. He kept Theo flat, controlling the hips, waiting for the moment Theo would make a mistake trying to explode or scramble.

But Theo didn’t panic.

He kept moving, not wild, not frantic. He peeled at Arman’s wrists, built frames, shifted his hips inch by inch.

Every time Arman adjusted his weight, Theo reacted. Small things. Elevating a knee. Sliding an elbow in. Making space.

Damon stood cage-side, nodding. This was what they trained for. He wasn’t looking for a sweep or a reversal. Just space.

Theo tried for a guillotine once, tight, but not deep enough. Arman adjusted, crushed the attempt, and passed into half guard.

But in doing so, he had to lift his weight. He had to give up a bit of control.

And Theo took it.

He bridged hard, caught an underhook, and used the wall.

He didn’t try to roll, he scooted back, shrimped toward the cage, and planted a foot. Arman tried to drag him away, but Theo had the angle now.

He used the wall to climb, elbow by elbow, foot by foot.

Arman followed, glued to him like a shadow. But Theo stayed tight to the cage, hands inside, fighting for wrist control.

He got to one knee.

Arman adjusted again, trying to sink in a hook and take the back. But Theo turned into it, chest to chest. No space for the back take. No leverage.

And then he stood.

The crowd, or what little of it there was, let out a sound. Not a roar, but enough to mark the shift.

Theo pushed Arman off with a shoulder bump, disengaged, and stepped back to center.

He reset.

Chest heaving. Arms low.

But he was up.

Arman stared at him, no emotion on his face, but his breathing was louder now.

He hadn’t done damage on the ground. He had just worked to hold position, and now that effort was gone.

Theo kept his eyes locked, rolled out his shoulders, and raised his guard again.

Damon stayed calm on the outside, but his arms were crossed tighter now. That escape meant more than a few cheers.

It meant Theo had followed the plan, stay patient, make him move, take the opening. He wasn’t winning yet.

But he wasn’t broken.

And now they were standing again. Right where Theo wanted it.

Theo stayed moving as soon as he got to his feet. He knew the moment was short.

Petrov was already resetting, circling, eyes locked on him. There was no time to celebrate the escape.

Theo stepped in with a jab. It landed clean, but he didn’t wait to admire it.

He followed with a low kick, then circled off to the side, staying light on his feet.

Petrov adjusted, keeping calm, but his breathing had changed. He was working now. No longer just dictating the pace.

Damon watched from the corner, his arms crossed, focused. He didn’t yell instructions. He just nodded once as Theo moved.

Theo faked a right hand and fired a sharp body kick instead. Petrov blocked it with his forearm, but it knocked him slightly off balance.

Theo used that to press in, throwing short hooks to the body and head. Nothing clean landed, but it kept Petrov guessing.

Theo had learned, pressure didn’t always need to land. It just had to force reactions.

Petrov clinched, trying to slow the exchange.

He wrapped up Theo’s arms and walked him toward the cage. But Theo had felt this before.

He quickly pummelled an underhook in, turned his hips, and spun out, avoiding the takedown.

He broke free and shoved Petrov backward.

The room was quiet, the few remaining fighters watching from the sidelines.

No crowd. Just the slap of gloves, the sound of breathing, and shoes sliding on the mat.

Petrov threw a looping overhand right. Theo ducked under it and countered with a knee to the body.

Petrov grunted and shot low, going for a desperation takedown. Theo sprawled. His hips dropped, feet dug in, and he stuffed the shot.

He dug his hands under Petrov’s arms and lifted slightly, forcing a scramble.

Petrov rolled to his side, trying to get a grip on Theo’s leg, but Theo turned and slipped free.

They both got up fast, no pause. Sweat was dripping off both men now, their breathing louder.

Theo snapped a quick combo. Jab, jab, low kick. Petrov tried to parry but got hit clean with the second jab. He backed up. For the first time, Theo saw hesitation in his eyes.

Petrov stepped in with a heavy left hook. Theo leaned back, slipped it, then shot in with a hard right hand to the ribs.

The punch landed. Petrov clinched again, but Theo turned him, drove him to the cage, and threw short knees.

Petrov responded with a foot sweep attempt, but Theo stepped over and kept the pressure on.

The horn sounded.

Both fighters stepped back immediately, breathing hard, their arms low, bodies covered in sweat.

Damon gave a single nod. Theo had closed the round strong.

He was still in the fight, and Petrov knew it now.

Theo wiped his face with the back of his glove as he dropped onto the stool.

One of the assistants crouched beside him and started icing his neck while another pressed a towel to his forehead and shoulders.

His chest rose and fell quickly, but his eyes stayed locked on Damon, waiting.

Damon leaned in, calm and clear.

"You’re doing good. You’re making him move. That’s what we wanted."

Theo nodded, breathing through his mouth.

"But don’t get greedy," Damon said. "He’s looking to bait you when you pressure. Stay sharp. Your entries are good, but don’t admire your work. Touch him, make him defend, then reset."

He pointed briefly at Theo’s legs. "Your kicks are working. Use them to slow him down. And when he gets close, don’t wrestle. Frame, break, move."

Theo nodded again, a bit firmer this time. He was still winded, but he was listening.

"Don’t chase the win," Damon added. "Just take what he gives you. Stay clean. Stay sharp. You’re breaking him down, one piece at a time."

The horn gave the ten-second warning.

Theo stood up, rolled his shoulders, and bounced on his toes. The cutman gave him one last wipe and backed off.

Damon tapped his chest once. "Control the pace."

Theo turned, stepped forward, and walked back out as the second round was about to begin.