My final match had finally arrived. As I stepped onto the stage, I looked at Alice Griphia — my opponent. She was smiling at me in a disturbingly twisted way. I didn't know her fighting style, but I was about to find out.
The referee started the match. I decided to use a standard guard and slowly approached her. When I was just a meter away, she was still smiling at me the same way.
I threw a quick jab, but she blocked it with her left hand.
She then placed her left foot on my leg and suddenly jumped, twisting her body mid-air. Her right leg came swinging toward my head. As I tried to block, I realized my right hand was still trapped — that crazy girl hadn't let go of it. The back of her foot crashed into my skull, and she followed up with a brutal elbow directly to my face.
I hit the ground. Blood filled my mouth and streamed from my nose. She stood over me, staring down. I spun my body, aiming a sweep kick — she jumped, dodging it perfectly.
But I had planned for that. While still on the ground, I pushed my body up with both hands and landed a kick just under her chin. I followed up immediately with another kick, this time directly to her jaw.
Even after that combo, she remained standing.
I quickly got back up. We locked eyes. Blood was running from my mouth and nose, but a small smile appeared on my face. She was bleeding from the mouth too — and still smiling.
She started sprinting toward me.
I took a low-guard stance. She leapt up and raised her leg high, aiming for my head. Using the momentum, I lifted my leg toward her head — but she was still too high. Just as her foot was about to strike, I quickly grabbed her right arm and moved my head to the side. Her kick ended up slamming into my shoulder.
The pain was immense — if that had hit my head, I might've blacked out.
I dragged her left arm down to the ground with me and started twisting it. She screamed.
She punched my back repeatedly — her raw physical strength was terrifying. I broke her left hand, then caught her right arm with my right leg and pinned her down. She was on the ground, her face completely unguarded.
One from the left. One from the right.
Again. Again. Again. Again...
After more than twenty punches, I stopped. My hands were covered in blood. I looked at the referee — he took a step back under my gaze.
The referee called the fight. I had won — but the arena had gone completely silent. The stage was soaked in my blood and Alice's. I made my way toward the medical room — my injuries weren't limited to my head. Her kick to my shoulder and the blows to my back were excruciating. I tried not to collapse in front of everyone.
But I passed out.