MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat-Chapter 441 The Weight of Nations

When both fighters stood in the octagon, the energy in the arena reached a fever pitch.

The crowd roared as the commentators set the stage for the upcoming flyweight bout.

"Ireland and Spain clashing here at flyweight," one commentator began. "Ireland's got their hopes pinned on Demaien Ncguygan, but Spain's Darrez brings experience and composure into this matchup."

"Absolutely," the other added. "Both nations are making waves in the MMA scene, but this fight could set the tone for the tournament. There's no room for error here."

In the center of the octagon, Deuce Baffer stepped forward, his presence commanding the attention of the entire arena. Discover exclusive tales on novelbuddy

The legendary announcer raised his microphone, his voice booming across the venue.

"LLLLAAAAADDDDDDIIIIIIESSSSS AND GENTLEEEEEMENNNNNNN!" Deuce's voice resonated with unmatched enthusiasm. "IIIIITTTTT'S TIIIIIMMMMMEEEEE! FOR THE FLYWEIGHT BOUT IN THE WORLD MMA TOURNAMENT!"

The crowd erupted, the arena vibrating with the energy of thousands of passionate fans.

Irish and Spanish flags waved furiously, their supporters chanting in unison, creating a thunderous backdrop to the moment.

"In the red corner!" Deuce began, turning to Demaien. "Fighting out of Dublin, Ireland! With a professional record of 11 wins, 2 losses, standing 5 feet 5 inches tall, weighing in at 125 pounds… DEMAAAAIEN NCGUUUUYGAN!"

The Irish fans erupted in cheers, their voices echoing across the arena.

Demaien lifted his gloved fist slightly, his expression a mixture of focus and determination.

Deuce Baffer turned toward the blue corner, his voice rising with electrifying energy as he prepared to introduce the opponent.

"And in the blue corner!" he roared, his tone unwavering. "Fighting out of Valencia, Spain! With a professional record of 17 wins, 5 losses, standing 5 feet 6 inches tall, weighing in at 125 pounds… BARIIIIIN DARRRRREEZZZZ!"

The Spanish fans exploded into chants, their cheers rivaling the Irish crowd.

Barin raised his hand confidently, his face calm and focused as he soaked in the atmosphere.

He had the poise of a seasoned fighter, unshaken by the intensity of the moment.

The crowd's energy surged as the two fighters prepared to face off, their nations behind them.

The commentators didn't hold back, analyzing the stark experience difference between the two fighters.

"Barin Darrez, with 17 wins and a career spanning nearly a decade, has fought some of the toughest opponents in his weight class," one commentator stated. "Meanwhile, Demaien Ncguygan, though promising, is still relatively green. If he approaches this fight like he did in his last bout, with those gaps in his striking and defense, it could be a short night."

The other commentator nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Barin is known for his precision and patience. Demaien can't afford to leave openings or make reckless moves. The experience gap is real, and Demaien's going to have to dig deep if he wants to pull this off."

The referee stepped into the center of the octagon, motioning for both fighters to approach.

Barin and Demaien walked forward, their eyes locked in an intense stare-down as the noise of the crowd grew deafening.

"Alright, gentlemen," the referee began, his tone firm and commanding. "We've been over the rules in the back. Protect yourselves at all times. Follow my instructions at all times. Keep it clean, and let's have a good fight. Touch gloves if you want."

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Barin extended his gloves confidently, his face calm and unreadable. Demaien hesitated for a second before touching gloves, his expression determined but tense.

With that, the referee signaled them back to their corners, the crowd roaring in anticipation as the tension reached its peak. The first round was about to begin.

The fighters returned to their corners, the energy in the arena electric as the referee raised his hand, preparing to start the fight.

The crowd's chants echoed, a mix of Irish pride and Spanish determination filling the space.

The referee looked at both fighters, ensuring they were ready. "Fighter, are you ready? Fighter, are you ready?" With a quick nod from both, he stepped back. "Let's fight!"

The bell rang, and the first round began.

Barin Darrez came out composed, his movements fluid and calculated.

He circled the octagon, gauging Demaien's range and pace.

Demaien, on the other hand, started aggressively, throwing a quick jab followed by a low kick to establish his presence.

The Irish crowd erupted at the early display of offense, but Barin didn't flinch.

"Demaien starting with some early aggression," one commentator observed. "He's looking to dictate the pace, but Barin is staying calm, as expected."

Barin countered with a precise overhand right that narrowly missed, showing just how dangerous he could be with his timing.

Demaien continued to press forward, feinting a takedown to keep Barin guessing, but Barin maintained his poise, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

Two minutes in, Barin began to take control of the octagon, landing sharp leg kicks that disrupted Demaien's rhythm.

Demaien attempted a double-leg takedown, driving forward with everything he had, but Barin sprawled expertly, his experience on full display.

"Beautiful takedown defense by Barin Darrez," the commentator noted. "This is where the experience gap really starts to show."

With Demaien on his knees, Barin quickly transitioned, landing a knee to the body before disengaging and resetting in the center of the octagon.

Demaien stood back up, his breathing heavier now, but his resolve still intact.

He attempted to close the distance, throwing a flurry of punches, but Barin's head movement and footwork made him a hard target to hit.

As the first round neared its end, Barin began to ramp up the pressure.

A stiff jab snapped Demaien's head back, followed by a spinning back kick to the body that sent the Irish fighter stumbling into the cage.

The Spanish crowd roared as Barin moved in to capitalize, but Demaien managed to circle out and survive until the bell.

The crowd erupted as the round ended, with both fighters returning to their corners.

Demaien's corner immediately went to work, Tommy Hughes shouting instructions while another coach pressed an ice pack to Demaien's ribs.

"He's got to stay composed," one commentator said as the replay showed Barin's spinning kick. "Barin is picking him apart with those counters and body shots. Demaien's heart is undeniable, but he needs to adjust fast if he wants to turn this around."