Chapter 9 - The Final Battle
The preliminary rounds were a masterclass in Kyokushin efficiency.
In her first match, Holland knocked out a twenty-one-year-old taekwondo practitioner with a devastating liver strike in eighteen seconds.
In her second match, she forced a heavy-set judo brown belt to submit after shattering her leg guard with three consecutive low shins.
In the semifinals, she faced an aggressive point-fighter from Atlanta, neutralizing her speed with relentless forward pressure and ending the fight with an axe kick that grazed her nose, winning by absolute technical dominance.
The crowd at Ring 3 had grown from a small group of curious spectators into a roaring wall of hundreds of people. Word had swept through the convention center: There's a fourteen-year-old girl in Ring 3 dismantling full-grown adult fighters like they're children.
Now, it was time for the Final Championship Match.
Holland stood in her corner. Across from her stood Natasha Petrov, who had brutally knocked out all three of her previous opponents to reach the finals.
The referee called them to the center. "Final match! Three rounds of two minutes! Full contact body strikes, full contact head kicks! Touch gloves!"
Natasha refused to touch gloves. She stepped up, glaring down at Holland with sheer malice. "I'm going to put you to sleep, white-belt trash."
Holland looked up into her eyes, her own face calm, serene, and empty of fear. "Begin!" the referee shouted.
Natasha exploded instantly.
She wasn't like the amateur fighters Holland had faced in the dojo. Natasha was fast, mean, and incredibly experienced. She threw a blinding combination of left hooks and straight rights, driving Holland back toward the edge of the ring.
BAM! BAM!
A heavy right hook slipped past Holland's guard and cracked hard against her cheekbone.
The crowd gasped. Holland’s head snapped back, and a trail of blood dripped from her lip.
"Yes! Kill her!" Victor screamed from Natasha's corner.
Holland stumbled back two steps, her boots catching the edge of the red safety mat. The pain radiated through her jaw, sharp and hot. For a fraction of a second, the dark, terrifying feelings of weakness and anxiety threatened to swallow her.
Hide your intent. Stand your ground, Vance's voice echoed in her mind. Pain is just information.
Holland wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand. She looked up at Natasha, who was grinning, moving in for the finish.
This time, Holland didn't defend. She stepped straight into the fire.
Natasha threw a heavy right straight, putting all her weight into it. Holland slipped her head three inches to the left—feeling the wind of the fist brush past her ear—and launched a devastating shitazuki (upward body hook) straight into Natasha's floating ribs.
CRACK!
The sound was heard clearly across the entire auditorium.
Natasha’s mouth flew open, her eyes bulging as her breath caught in her throat. The power of her own forward charge had doubled the impact of Holland's strike.
Before Natasha could recover, Holland unleashed the ultimate Kyokushin combination—the "Iron Cascade."
Left punch to the ribs. Right palm strike to the collarbone. Spinning back elbow to the chest. And finally, rotating her entire body on her front pivot, Holland launched a sky-high jumping spin kick (tobi ushiro mawashi geri).
Her heel caught Natasha squarely on the point of her chin.
Natasha went completely limp in mid-air, crashing heavily onto the blue foam mat like a felled oak tree.
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The entire convention center exploded into an absolute uproar. Hundreds of people leaped to their feet, screaming, cheering, and stomping on the bleachers.
The referee didn't even count. He immediately waved his arms, calling for medical staff. "Knockout! Winner by KO... Holland Wright!"
