Chapter 9 — Lily vs Mary

It was time.

We both stepped forward.

I raised my orthodox boxing stance, guard tight and steady.

Across from me, Mary settled into her stance as well—calm, composed, ready.

We closed in, the space between us shrinking with every step.

Stick to the plan, I reminded myself. Defense first. Read her. Don’t rush.

We edged into striking range, breaths steady, guards lifted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, both fighters are ready… the clash you’ve been waiting for is about to begin!” Peter declared, igniting the crowd.

Don’t blink first. Be ready.

Mary stepped in fast and snapped a quick kick toward me.

I slipped to the outside, dodging it cleanly.

Her speed was real—her strikes clean and quick.

She fought with confidence, like someone who expected to take control early.

And she didn’t let up.

Mary came in again, firing two quick punches and another snapping kick.

I had to keep up.

I weaved past the punches and angled away from her leg.

Try this.

I shot a jab at her head, but she slipped it with smooth ease.

Now we’re really starting.

Mary kept firing, and I answered back, both of us slipping and weaving as we tested each other’s rhythm.

Her eyes were focused—mine were too. Neither of us wanted to give the first opening.

She caught me first, slipping past my guard with a clean strike.

“Mary with the first solid strike of the match!” Peter called.

The crowd let out a low gasp.

A sharp jolt flashed across my jaw.

Damn. She read me.

She wasn’t done.

She came right back in—same combo, but sharper this time.

Two quick punches and a sharp round kick.

I got my guard up just in time.

I can’t let her control the fight.

The second she reeled back, I shot a jab, followed by a straight, then fired another jab up the middle.

She blocked everything and slid back just far enough that I couldn’t reach her.

She reset for just a heartbeat, then stepped back in—two quick kicks, sharp and fast—and then something different. Something I didn’t recognize at first.

She threw a low kick—I braced for it—but the angle changed too fast.

I shifted, barely in time, and her shin grazed across my head.

My ear rang faintly from the graze.

If that had landed clean… it would’ve been bad.

I reset my stance, shaking off the hit.

She was gaining momentum—no way I let her run the fight.

I flicked my eyes to the clock.

Just a little longer. Don’t cave.

Mary noticed.

She surged in with hard punches and vicious kicks, trying to steal the round outright.

I slipped past what I could and blocked the rest, my guard absorbing every impact.

My guard was wearing thin.

A wave of murmurs rolled through the crowd as Mary pressed me back.

She kept hammering at me, her pressure relentless.

Mary reset with purpose—loading up something to steal the round.

I braced, pulling my guard tight.

She stepped in, everything winding up—HOOOOORNNN!

Round One was over.

“That’s the end of Round One! What an opening exchange from both fighters!”

Peter’s voice boomed as the crowd erupted.

We walked back to our corners.

Dani and Rosie were already there—chair ready, towel in hand—waiting for me.

I sank down, breathing hard, sweat cooling on my shoulders.

Dani stepped in front of me, calm but focused.

“Good work, Lily. You stuck to the plan.”

Rosie leaned in, gently dabbing my forehead with the towel.

“You’re doing great. Keep breathing.”

“I held on,” I said between breaths. “She’s skilled, Coach.”

“We’ve got her right where we want her,” Dani said, voice steady.

“Now it’s time to strike back with our plan.”

I nodded, drawing in a slow breath.

“Okay, Coach. I’m ready.”

Dani gave a small nod back.

“Good. Then stick to it. Trust what we worked on.”

Rosie squeezed my shoulder, gentle but firm.

“You’ve got this, Lily.”

Mary sat in her corner, breathing steady, her gaze locked on me across the ring.

I had that round.

Her boxing’s clean, sure—but it’s not enough. She’s limited.

If I push harder, Round Two is mine.

No… this match is mine.

The horn echoed through the arena—Round Two.

“Here we go! Will this be the turning point of the match?” Peter announced, the crowd rising with his voice.

I turned to Dani and pushed up from the chair, rolling out my shoulders.

“I got this, Coach.”

The crowd noise swelled around me.

Time to go.

We walked back to the center of the arena.

I steadied my breath.

This round is mine.

Once we settled back in our stances, she pounced.

Mary shot forward—fast—whipping two quick kicks at me.

I slipped past both of them, eyes locked on her hips, waiting for my opening.

She went to throw another kick.

This is it.

I shifted my stance.

Her eyes flicked—she saw the change—but it was too late.

As her leg whipped in, I checked the kick with a solid block—then snapped a counter kick straight into her ribs.

Peter’s voice exploded through the arena.

“Ironwood—the boxer—just blocked a kick and landed a kick of her own! Are the tables turning?!”

The crowd erupted, a wave of shock rolling through the stands.

She blocked my kick…

A boxer doesn’t kick—none of them do.

And that counter… sharp.

Too sharp.

I misread her.

Badly.

I caught her—not all the way clean, but enough.

She stumbled back a step, surprise flashing across her face.

My turn.

I surged in, snapping jabs at her guard and mixing in a sharp low kick at her lead leg.

Mary recovered fast, slipping the punches and blocking the kick with her shin.

I pulled back, resetting my stance.

She did the same.

Now we’re both ready.

We collided again in a sharp flurry of blows.

A punch skimmed my cheek as my low kick cracked into her thigh.

Our feet shuffled across the mat as we traded shots.

She caught my shoulder at the same moment I brushed her ear.

Nothing landed clean—just enough to sting, enough to keep us moving.

Peter’s voice boomed above the chaos.

“Both fighters trading now! Neither giving an inch!”

The arena erupted.

I reset my guard, breath tight in my chest.

She’s pushing harder… good.

We traded footwork, hunting for an opening—and then I caught it.

I stepped in and slammed a clean cross into her jawline, momentum whipping back to my side.

She was shaken, but she wasn’t going down that easy.

Mary recovered in a blink, tossing a sharp feint—then blasted a clean kick into my ribs before I could fully reset.

Pain flared, forcing me a half-step.

“Clean shots from both fighters!” Peter called.

My side burned, but I reset my stance, breath tight.

She mirrored me instantly—neither of us yielding an inch.

We stepped together,

both loading up for a kick.

We both launched our kicks—on a perfect collision course—

HOOOOORNNN!

The horn tore through the air, locking us in place, our shins hovering inches from impact.

“Round Two ends on a razor’s edge!” Peter boomed as the arena exploded with noise.

I dropped my leg and made the slow walk back, my body heavy, fatigue settling into every limb.

Dani and Rosie stood ready in my corner, waiting for me to sit.

I dropped into the chair, my lungs dragging in air.

“You hit her hard,” Dani said, voice steady. “Now finish it.”

Rosie moved in quietly, wiping the sweat from my face.

We stuck to the plan... but it wasn’t enough.

“Coach… what now?” I asked breath uneven.

Dani crouched in front of me. “We didn’t get to drill this as much as I wanted,” he admitted. “But it’s our best gamble.”

He leaned in, laying out the strategy.

I can do this.

“Alright, Coach,” I said with a nod.

Ironwood stood across the arena.

She’s stronger than I gave her credit for.

That counter proved it.

I won’t make the same mistake again.

I can still beat her.

This match is mine.

The horn blared for the final round.

“Show them the result of our training, Lily,” Rosie urged as I rose to my feet.

I moved toward the center.

For the Iron Garden.

Mary advanced from her corner.

For Carson.

Our eyes met—steady, unblinking.

Round Three would decide everything.