Chapter 3 — Broader Horizons for Seeds

She looked strong—her stance relaxed but grounded.

Almond-toned skin caught the sunlight spilling through the glass above, her dark hair glinting with faint flickers of red as the light hit it. Her eyes—fiery red—watched me with a mix of curiosity and confidence. She carried herself like someone who’d already seen the inside of the ring more times than she could count.

“Lilith Ironwood?” she said, her voice steady but friendly. “Dani told me about you. I’m Rose Bloomfield—but you can call me Rosie.”

She held out her hand.

I reached out and shook it, firm but respectful. “Yeah—that’s me. And you can call me Lily, Rosie.”

A bright voice cut in behind me. “And you can call me Sunny!”

Rosie blinked, a quick grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Lively one, huh?”

“Yup,” Dani said as he stepped forward, arms folded and his tone half proud, half amused. “So, Rosie—what do you think of the new recruits?”

“They look like they got some fight in them,” she said with a smirk.

“Dani said you’re related to the world-famous boxer Cliff Ironwood. Is that true?” Rosie asked, tilting her head with genuine interest.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “Pops—he’s my grandfather. He taught me everything I know about boxing.”

Rosie’s grin widened. “Impressive. Can’t wait to see what you’re made of then, Lily.”

Before I could answer, Sunny jumped in with her usual grin. “Don’t count me out! I’ll show you what I’m made of. I’m the only one in Thornfield who could keep up with Lily.”

Rosie chuckled, crossing her arms. “Then this should be fun. Thornfield girls, huh?”

Sunny smirked. “Yep. Born and raised. What about you?”

“Silverthorne,” Rosie said tapping her chest lightly. “Long way from home, but worth the trip.”

I nodded. “That explains the sharp stance.”

Rosie’s lips curved. “And you two definitely got that Thornfield spirit.”

Dani sighed with a hint of amusement. “And here I was hoping for a calm first day.”

“Now that we’re all here, Rosie—mind leading the way?” Dani said, turning to her.

“Yeah, let’s get going,” Rosie replied, motioning toward the massive glass doors.

We followed her across the plaza, the crowd’s noise dimming with each step closer. As the doors slid open, a rush of cool, filtered fresh air hit us—fresh and faintly scented with steel and flowers.

Inside, the Petal Dome stretched wider than I’d imagined. Glass panels curved overhead like petals in bloom, catching the sunlight and scattering it across polished floors. Screens glowed along the walls, showing highlights of fighters mid-strike, their names flashing in bold colors.

“This…” Sunny breathed, her eyes wide. “This is unreal.”

Rosie smiled over her shoulder. “Welcome to the heart of the League.”

My chest tightened—not from nerves, but from something heavier. This was where fighters made their names… and lost them too.

As we walked through the main hall toward the registration, Dani and Rosie pointed things out as we passed.

“Here’s the training deck,” Dani said, gesturing toward a wide open area walled with glass. “They let us use the equipment between matches.”

Through the window, rows of sleek machines gleamed under bright lights—treadmills, modern weight machines, heavy bags, and even circular track lined with soft green turf. Fighters moved with sharp focus, their breath and rhythm echoing faintly through the space. The air smelled faintly of sweat and polish—iron and effort mixed together.

Further ahead, Rosie gestured toward another set of doors. “These are the practice arenas—where fighters spar before their matches.”

The spaces inside were larger than any boxing ring I’d seen. Fighters moved fast inside them, their styles blending—kicks, throws, and punches flowing together in perfect chaos. Coaches shouted instructions from the sides while others reviewed footage on Petal Tech tablets, their screens flashing with data and impact readouts.

We stopped for a moment, watching two fighters trade blows, their movements sharp and rhythmic.

“From the look of it, there’s people from all over,” Sunny whispered, eyes wide.

She was right. I saw different colors, styles, and crests—each one representing towns and gyms across the country. The League wasn’t just one city. It was the whole world, breathing under one roof.

Watching them train, I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them came from places like mine—small towns, forgotten gyms, fighting for something worth saving. Maybe that’s what the League really was. Not just fame or fortune… but proof that all our small dreams could matter somewhere.

“Look at them go!” Sunny said, eyes sparkling. “I can’t wait to get out there!”

I smiled. That was Sunny—always charging forward, no matter how tall the mountain. Part of me envied that confidence. Another part was grateful for it. I’d need that kind of light where I was heading.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Rosie said, noticing the way I watched the fighters.

“It’s incredible,” I admitted.

“You’ll get used to it. The first day’s always the loudest—it’s all nerves and adrenaline.”

Dani chuckled. “She’s right. But remember—noise fades. What matters is how you fight when it’s just you and the ring.”

There were strong, disciplined fighters here, I could tell at a glance.

Everywhere I looked, fighters filled the space—punching bags until chains rattled, drilling sharp kicks, practicing throws with thundering rolls across the mat.

Some of them stood out instantly.

One girl with dark olive hair was throwing wild hooks at a heavy bag, whole body snapping into each strike like she was riding a storm. Faded thorn-pattern tattoos curled along her arms and collar, catching the light with every swing. She wasn’t just hitting the bag… she was enjoying it, smiling wide between every explosive punch.

Another fighter had just finished her round. She stood tall and square, a clean linework tattoo wrapping around her arm, the ink bold against her tan skin. Her stance square and textbook sharp, her jabs crisp enough that Pops would’ve nodded in approval.

And then—

Sharp red eyes, cold and unreadable.

They lasted only a second before she turned back to her training… but it felt like she’d already judged me.

Everyone moved with purpose. Strength. Discipline. This wasn’t a gym. It was a storm of talent.

And I was one of the small sparks in it.

I turned to Rosie.

“What rank are you, Rosie?”

She smirked a little, tucking strands of dark-red hair behind her ear.

“Oh, I am Seed High rank.”

“You’re about halfway there, Rosie,” I said.

Rosie gave a small smirk, brushing it off but not really hiding the pride.

“Yeah, she’s making her way up there,” Dani added. “And you two need to catch up—so let’s get going.”

“Don’t worry, we will,” Sunny shot back confidently.

Rosie stepped ahead of us, glancing over her shoulder with that fiery grin.

“Yeah? I’ll make sure you both make it, Ironwood, Meadows—try to keep up.”

Her confidence burned brighter than the lights above us.

For a moment, I wondered what it would take to reach where she was.

What would it take to surpass her?

The deeper we walked, the louder the Dome became—grunts, strikes, shouts, and countdowns echoing through the air like a living heartbeat. Every step pulled us in deeper into the center of something loud, raw, and alive.

We eventually reached a wide desk with glowing screens and a line of rookies stretching out behind it. A man with headset and worn-out clipboard looked us over as we approached.

“Welcome to Registration,” he said with a practiced smile. “Where you from?”

I opened my mouth, but Sunny beat me to it—leaning forward like she’d been dying to speak for hours.

“Thornfield!” she said proudly.

The registrar’s eyebrow lifted. “Thornfield, huh? Don’t see many from there these days.”

Sunny beamed. “Well, you see—”

Rosie sidestepped in front of her, hands on her hips.

“She’s with Ironwood,” she said, jutting her chin toward me.

The man’s eyes flicked to me, recognition lighting up behind them.

“Ironwood…as in Cliff Ironwood?”

My stomach tightened, but I kept my expression steady.

“Yeah. He’s my grandfather.”

A few nearby rookies turned their heads. A whisper started somewhere down the line.

“No way—Cliff Ironwood’s granddaughter?”

“Didn’t he run that old gym?”

“I heard it shut down—”

I straightened my back, doing everything I could to not let any of it show.

“Never show them your hurt,” Pops’ voice echoed.

The registrar whistled. “Well, that something. Hope you hit as hard as he did.”

Sunny jabbed an elbow toward me. “She does.”

Rosie folded her arms, smirking. “She will.”

The man typed something on his tablet, nodding.

“All right, rookie. Step forward. Let’s get you all signed in.”

He handed me a tablet to fill out—name, hometown, waivers, medical history, basic physical stat… all the official stuff. I tapped through each screen carefully. When I finished, he took the tablet back and studied it for a moment, eyes flicking briefly to my age before giving a small, satisfied nod.

“Alright,” he said, lifting a small device. “Photo time.”

I stood up straight, shoulder back, trying to look like I belonged here. The flash clicked.

He checked the picture, nodded, then turned the screen toward me. “Everything looks correct?”

I scanned it—Lilith Ironwood. Thornfield. Seed Rank: Low.

My heart thudded.

It was real now.

“Good luck, Ironwood,” he said with a small wave.

I stepped aside to wait for Sunny. It didn’t take long—she practically bounced over to me, her license held up like it was treasure.

“Lily, look! It’s official now!” she beamed, grinning so wide it was contagious.

Rosie glanced at our new IDs and gave us a proud, almost smug little smirk.

“You’re all ready now,” she said.

Dani stepped up beside her, looking between the three of us—me, Sunny, and Rosie—with that calm, confident grin he always wore.

“You ready?” he asked. “We’re in it now, Lily. Sunny. Rosie.”

He raised a fist in front of him.

“We’re aiming for the top.”

As we stepped off the registration floor, I felt it again—that same sharp red gaze cutting through the crowd.

But this time, she wasn’t just watching.

She was walking straight toward me.

Sunny slowed beside me. Rosie noticed too, her posture shifting just slightly, ready if something happened.

The air around us tightened.

The girl stopped right in front of me.

“Ironwood,” she said, her voice cool and flat, eyes locked on mine.

Up close, her appearance was even more striking—cool-toned skin, deep natural green hair brushed with deep crimson undertones, and two long crimson strands framing her face like sharp lines of color. And, of course, those unmistakable blood-red eyes.

“Your grandfather is Cliff Ironwood?” she asked, voice flat and unreadable.

“Yes,” I said, steadying my breath. “I’m Lilith Ironwood.”

Something shifted in her expression—not surprise…more like disappointment.

Like I’d given the wrong answer.

“You won’t get anywhere riding a name,” she said coldly. “In this League, you either get strong or you get swallowed.”

My jaw tightened. “I’m strong enough. I was taught boxing from the best.”

“Boxing?” she repeated, small scoff leaving her.

Then she chuckled—low, almost amused.

“You’ll need more than that dead sport,” she said, a sharp grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “A lot more.”

Sunny immediately stepped forward, eyes narrowed.

“You got a problem?” she snapped.

The girl didn’t even look at her at first.

Rosie shifted her stance calmly, placing herself slightly in front of me.

“Well,” she said, “who are you supposed to be?”

That finally made the girl react.

Her crimson eyes slid from Sunny… to Rosie… then back to me, evaluating us like we were nothing special.

“Victoria Valen,” she said simply.

Then with the faintest edge of mockery:

“Most people call me Venus.”

Sunny stiffened. Rosie’s expression sharpened.

Victoria’s red-tinted hair strands framed her face like blade edges as she looked at me again.

“And if Ironwood can’t handle a simple question,” she added coldly, “she won’t last long here.”

Rosie’s eyes narrowed for just a breath.

“Venus?” she whispered under her breath. “That name sounds… familiar.”

Sunny wasn’t whispering anything.

She stepped forward.

“We don’t care who you are. You don’t get to walk up and start picking fights with people.”

Venus didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look at Sunny—her blood-red eyes stayed on me, steady and cutting.

Dani quickly stepped in, raising both hands like a referee catching a bad start.

“Hey, hey—everybody relax. We clearly got off on the wrong foot,” he said, forcing a calm smile. “So how about we let it go for today, yeah?”

He turned to me, tapping my arm lightly.

“Besides, you’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve got your gym to worry about—the Iron Garden, right Lily?”

Venus’s expression shifted.

For the first time, she looked away from me. Not out of respect—more like she’d just heard something disappointing.

“Iron Garden?” She repeated, head tilting slightly. “That rundown boxing gym?”

My breath tightened.

Venus let out a soft, cold scoff.

“Why waste your time on a dump like that?” she said, voice smooth and mocking. “If you came here hoping a dying gym would make you special… you’re already lost.”

Sunny’s fist curled. Rosie stepped closer without thinking—protective, sharp, ready.

But Venus was still watching me.

She mocked boxing.

She mocked my home.

She mocked the reason I was here.

And I wasn’t about to let that slide.

My fists clenched before I even realized it.

Venus’s eyes lowered, catching the motion.

A slow, sharp smile curved across her face—like she’d been waiting for it.

“Oh? Angry, Ironwood?” she said softly. “Good. How about you show me that ‘boxing” you’re so proud of… with a spar. One round.”

Dani immediately stepped forward, palms out.

“Hey—hey, wait, let’s—”

If I backed down now, she wouldn’t let up.

“You’re on.”

The words left my mouth before he could finish.

Sunny let out a sharp, thrilled breath—practically bouncing on her heels.

“Yeah! Give her what’s coming to her, Lily!”

Rosie stepped in fast, her arm sliding in front of me like a guiding guardrail.

Her voice was firm, low and protective.

“Lily, you don’t need to prove anything to her. Not like this. She’s trying to get under your skin.”

But I’d already made my choice.

Dani dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard—the kind of sigh that held equal parts coach frustration and resigned acceptance.

He looked at Venus, then at me, then at my clenched fists.

Alright… alright,” he muttered, shoulder dropping.

Then his tone shifted—half warning, half something else. Something curious.

“As your coach, I should shut this down.”

He paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

“But…you’re gonna have to test the waters eventually.”

He tilted his head, studying me with a spark he didn’t bother hiding.

“And I want to see what you’re made of too.”

Sunny grinned wide, Rosie frowned deeper, and Venus’s smile only sharpened.

The air tightened between all of us.

Dani finally stepped back, pointing toward the practice arena.

“One round. Controlled. If either of you get stupid, I’m stepping in. Got it?”

Venus didn’t blink. “Won’t be necessary.”

Rosie gave me one last look—stern, protective, but understanding.

And I breathed in, letting the moment settle.

We gathered our composure and headed toward the practice arenas. Rosie led me down a short hallway toward the locker rooms, pushing the door open with a steady hand.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you set up.”

Inside, the air was cooler, quieter. Rows of lockers lined the walls, and a few fighters were scattered around stretching nervously. It felt like the calm before a storm.

Rosie crouched beside the locker and pulled out the full League training kit—neatly folded, sleek, and unlike anything I’d worn before.

“Come on,” she said, “this is your setup for today.”

I changed quickly, sliding into the shorts and pulling on the combat top they issued to newbies. It wasn’t like anything I’d worn before.

“It feels like… something else,” I muttered, rolling my shoulder.

“You can tell huh?” Rosie grinned a little. “Even if it looks like normal spar gear, it’s not. Feels like a thin layer of armor, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, tapping my fingers on the material. “Exactly like that.”

“That’s the Petal Tech,” Rosie explained tightening the wrap around my left wrist. “It’s built into everything—meant to protect fighters and monitor them at the same time.”

She jabbed me lightly in the ribs.

“Pain is still very real though.”

I winced. “Yeah—felt that.”

Rosie chuckled. “Good. Means it’s working.”

“Normally you’d have your own set, but you just got here, so we’re using the League’s practice gear today.”

“Once it’s personal,” Rosie added, “shin guards match your gear, foot guards match your gloves. Colors are up to you.”

I flexed my fingers in the gloves, feeling the wraps tighten automatically.

Everything felt light…but solid. Not bulky. Not cheap.

Real.

“Ready?” Rosie asked, handing me my mouthguard.

I took a breath and nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

Rosie walked beside me as we headed toward the practice arena, explaining the basic rules of the League mock matches.

“Just one round,” she said. “Three minutes. No knockouts. Controlled strikes. Dani will stop it if it gets out of hand.”

I nodded, even though my pulse was pounding.

Sunny waited near the entrance—practically bouncing when she saw me in gear.

“There she is!” she grinned. “Lily, go show her what you’re made of!”

As we approached the practice arena, a few fighters glanced over…then a few more.

Spars were common here, but something about the atmosphere—maybe Venus’s cold aura, maybe Sunny’s loud excitement—made heads turn.

By the time we reached the cage door, a small crowd had gathered, murmurs spreading through the onlookers.

“Who’s sparring?”

“New rookies?”

“Is that Ironwood girl?”

“And Venus?”

Fighters, coaches, trainees—all gathering around the outer circle.

It wasn’t packed, but it was enough to feel the weight of eyes on us.

Stepping through the doors, I finally got a full look at the practice arena.

The cage wall curved upward like woven vines—metallic and organic all at once—giving the space a wild, open feeling. It felt bigger than a boxing ring.

More room to move.

More room to get hit.

Dani stood inside already, hands on his hips, looking every bit the ref.

Focused. Serious. But behind it… I could tell he was curious too.

He wanted to see what I’d do.

Rosie gave me one last nod before stepping back toward the edge.

“Show us what you’re made of, Ironwood.”

I stepped inside.

Across from me, Venus entered the cage with slow, controlled steps.

Her expression hadn’t changed since the hallway—cold, unreadable.

Her blood-red eyes stayed locked on me as she took her corner.

We walked toward the center at the same pace, no one looking away, no one blinking.

Dani lifted a hand as we stopped in front of him.

“Alright,” he said glancing between us. “Are we ready?”

“Yes.” Venus replied, voice flat and steady.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Good. Touch gloves… and take your positions.”

As I stepped back to my corner, I forced my breathing steady.

Spar or not, the fundamentals were the same—controlled strikes, clean technique, and if you get caught in a hold, you tap. And if you get knocked down… you have until the count of ten.

Venus wasn’t taking her eyes off me. And I wasn’t taking mine off her.

Venus lifted her hands without a word.

I raised mine, tapping lightly against hers.

It wasn’t friendly.

It wasn’t respectful.

It was a spark.

We stepped back to our corners.

The air thickened around us.

And the fight was one heartbeat away.

Dani turned to Rosie and gave a small, certain nod.

She shifted her stance at the cage edge, eyes locked on us.

It was about to begin.

I slid into position—hands up, feet grounded, heart pounding steady.

Across from me, Venus raised her guard, her cold red eyes fixed on mine without blinking.

The crowd quieted.

The world narrowed...

I took one last breath.

Dani lifted his hand.

My body coiled, ready to move.

Fists ready to fly.

Ready to show her what I could do.

His hand came down.

“Start!”