Ares' style was more solid than Apollo's. He tended to withstand hits and deliver heavy blows back, less about fancy footwork and more about pushing forward relentlessly. That wasn't to say he was slow, because he absolutely wasn't, but he wasn't as flashy.
The roar of the crowd was making his blood run faster, heat flushing through him, adrenaline keeping him on his toes. Apollo was slippery, as expected. Ares made a feint, throwing one way and then slipping through a jarring punch to Apollo's side as his guard lifted. And then back out of the way, to circle and assess, and back in again, spitting blood as a hit caught his jaw and made him bite his tongue.
"This all you got, pussy?" he cajoled, flexing his fingers.