L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Freja continues her relentless assault, each punch aimed to target Sylar's vulnerable points with surgical precision. As her fingers dig into his muscles, she channels every ounce of her determination into these blows, fueled by the desire to overcome her opponent's brute strength.

However, her fervor is abruptly interrupted when Sylar suddenly grips her chest, dislodging Freja from his torso. The unexpected contact sends a jolt of surprise through her petite form, causing her to stumble back.

"H-hey!" Freja protests, outrage flashing in her eyes as she clutches her chest, rubbing where Sylar's hands had touched her.

Doesn't he know an idol's breasts is a no-no zone?

“Sorry.” Came Sylar’s sheepish reply. He couldn’t help but apologize in response to Freja’s outraged cry. Truthfully he wasn’t paying too much attention to where exactly her put his hands when he pushed Freja off of him. That said, Sylar wasn’t really THAT sorry about it. Not only did the action give him some breathing room, but her rack felt really nice in his hands. Since hentai was allowed in this match it might not be the last time he copes a feel.

For now though his most pressing concern was Freja advancing towards him, no doubt intending to continue the attack. Sylar was ready for her this time. Once Freja got close he lifted her up over his shoulders and tossed her over the ropes to the outside of the ring.

Freja's indignation momentarily eclipses her exhaustion as Sylar's sheepish apology barely registers amidst her outrage. The casual disregard for personal space, compounded by the suggestive undertones, sends a fresh surge of anger coursing through her veins.

"You..." Freja seethes, narrowing her eyes as she stalks toward Sylar, fists clenched. But before she can unleash another barrage, Sylar seizes the opportunity to snatch Freja up onto his shoulders.

In the blink of an eye, Freja finds herself airborne, Sylar's powerful grip sending her tumbling out of the ring. She lands hard on the cold, unforgiving floor outside the ropes with a thud.

"Aahhhh!!" Freja shrieks, the wind knocked from her lungs as pain blossoms across her body. She lies there stunned, blonde hair splayed out around her as she struggles to catch her breath amidst the agony searing through her muscles.

The referee's count begins, measuring Freja's incapacitation for a ring out...

1... 2...

Sylar heard Freja shriek as she was dumped over the top rope followed by a loud thud caused by her body hitting the floor. The referee began counting to ten but Sylar paid it little heed. He had no intention of winning by count out. So he decided to take the fight to the outside. Sylar took a deep breath before grabbing the top rope, bending his knees, and jumping up to launch himself over the ropes to dive onto his opponent on the outside.

Still reeling from the force of her tumble, Freja barely has time to register the distant sound of the referee's counting before a deafening roar erupts from the audience. Whipping her head around, she gazes in horror as Sylar soars through the air, intent on driving his bulk onto her fragile form.

"No! Ahhhhhh!" Freja's despairing cry tears from her throat as Sylar's massive frame crashes down upon her, squashing her petite body beneath his considerable weight. The impact drives the wind from Freja's lungs once more, leaving her gasping for air as pain shoots through every fiber of her being.

"Mmph... cough... hnnnngggh..." Freja wheezes, her vision fading to a kaleidoscope of agony as she lies trapped beneath Sylar's crushing form.

It was a risk diving onto the floor the way he did. It was a risk whenever he did any kind of aerial maneuver. Was it a necessary risk? Probably not, but it paid off and it looked impressive so Sylar felt it was fine.

Sylar pulled Freja up by the wrist and rolled her back into the ring. He then climbed up on the apron and climbed up to the top rope in the nearest corner. With his back turned to his opponent, he spread his legs and bounced off the top rope. He arched through the air to deliver a split-legged moonsault.

Even as her senses swirl with the throbbing pain of Sylar's crushing impact, Freja struggles weakly, dragging in ragged breaths. His grip on her wrist is unyielding, and with a grunt of effort, Sylar hoists Freja back up to her feet, rolling her body back into the ring.

As Sylar ascends the ropes, Freja watches him warily on the canvas, dreading another aerial assault. But when he turns his back, spreading his legs wide atop the turnbuckle, Freja sees her chance.

Seizing the opportunity, Freja rolled to the side to dodge.

As Sylar flies through the air he spots Freja rolling out of position out of the corner of his eye. His eyes widen in panic but there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s nobody home for the moonsault and Sylar crashes down hard onto the canvas.

“Argh!” Sylar winces in pain and clutches his stomach, the aerial maneuver having backfired on him.

Seizing her momentary reprieve, Freja crawls away from Sylar as he lands awkwardly, groaning in pain. Freja takes advantage of his compromised state, scrambling to her feet and launching a stomp aimed at Sylar's prone form.

"Hahhh... yeah!" Freja exclaims breathlessly, reveling in her newfound momentum as she continues to assail Sylar with a flurry of stomps.

Having crashed and burned after his ill-fated aerial dive, Sylar was now completely vulnerable. A position Freja was all too eager to take advantage of. He only had time to roll onto his back before she started stomping away at him.

“Ugh!” Sylar groaned as the air was forcibly ejected from his lungs by Freja’s stomps. They came down again and again, punishing the already hurting stomach and ribs.