Chapter 44: A Victory in Blood

The sun crawled into the sky, but for once I did not rise with it. My body begged for stillness after the chaos of the semi-final. Every muscle ached, every breath felt heavy.

When Coach Kofi stopped by that morning, he simply told me, “Rest. You’ll need every ounce of strength tonight.” And I obeyed.

I could hear the sound of Shadow boxing all day, but I didn’t dare to. All I did was rest in my room.

Finally, the night of the Final arrived.

The stadium buzzed with life again.

I was nervous and scared at first, knowing fully well that this night would decide the full winner. Though I was nervous, the look on Shadow’s face was different she was calm, unreadable, like she was already prepared.

As we both entered the arena separately and magnificently, our fans and supporters erupted, shouting our names, shaking the entire stadium.

The announcer’s voice boomed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is the final day of the 2019 Fight for Immortality! Out of our ten fighters, only two survived to the end. Tonight, we will choose the winner by a one-on-one combat, and the winner takes it all!”

Noise erupted from the crowd as the cameras flashed to the golden, shining belt placed prominently on the side.

“Rules are simple,” the announcer continued. “Sixty minutes! Whoever cannot rise, whoever is counted out, loses. The final battle… begins now!”

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of the final.

Immediately, Shadow charged at me fast, sharp, merciless. She didn’t even wait for the echo of the bell before launching a punch at my jaw. I staggered back, the ropes holding me upright. She charged towards me again and drove a blow into my stomach.

I struggled to free myself, but she pulled me by my hair, dragging me to the center before raining punches into my stomach.

For the first twenty minutes, I didn’t even have the chance to fight back or defend myself. Since the beginning of this seven day fight, this was my first time competing with her, and within that first twenty minutes, I understood why she was called the Shadow. I understood why she made it to the final. I understood why none of opponents never had a chance

At the twenty-seventh second, I launched my fist at her. With my head beneath her, I grabbed her leg and kicked her away. She landed hard against the ropes. I quickly climbed the ropes and landed directly on her. She fell onto her knees but quickly stood up.

The crowd roared at the sudden change of momentum. I dragged her by her hair just as she did mine and unleashed twice the blows she had landed on me.

By the thirty-fifth minute, I had turned the fight around. I got hold of Shadow, driving my iron fists again and again until blood streamed from her mouth. The crowd roared, clapping and chanting my name.

By the fortieth minute, Shadow was visibly unwell too weak to stand tall, but refusing to fall. She held onto herself, fighting for every chance not to collapse and change the situation.

The referee signaled me to stop and asked her if she wanted to give up, because she seemed too weak to go on. But she shook her head. “No,” she said, claiming the blood from her mouth was just a lip injury. She tried to keep going, but her body betrayed her.

At the forty-fifth minute, I swung my last and biggest fist at her. Making her fell hard against the canvas.

The referee dropped to his knees.

“One! Two! Three!”

Shadow didn’t rise.

The bell rang. The stadium exploded. My hand was raised high I had done it. I had become the Champion of the 2019 Fight for Immortality.

My family, my friends, and my supporters all screamed with joy.

But just as everyone was cheering for me, screaming my name, something felt wrong.

Shadow wasn’t standing. She wasn’t breathing.

The referee knelt, tapped her shoulder. No response. Panic rippled. He called for the medics. Medics rushed in.

At first, the crowd thought she had fainted. She was rushed out of the canvas and the stadium.

I watched the medics lift Shadow’s limp form into the stretcher with a sort of slow, mechanical horror, like watching a scene on someone else’s screen. They moved fast, practiced, but their urgency didn’t erase the stillness of her body.

A medic’s gloved hand brushed her cheek; no response. They carried her through the side curtains, through the scramble of staff and security, and out toward the ambulance waiting under the blaze of floodlights.

“She fainted,” the organizers said, assuring everyone as they pressed forward with the ceremony.

Yes. She fainted. I told myself again and again. She just fainted.

I stepped off the canvas to receive the belt I had fought so hard for over seven days. A tall man in a navy suit approached, the belt cradled like a relic, a small microphone pinned to his collar.

“Champion,” he said with a practiced smile. “This is yours.”

I stretched my hands forward to collect it, happiness flooding over me. My heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst. The ache that had been gnawing at my body for days suddenly vanished, replaced by goosebumps of joy.

Just as I braced myself to take it, the presenter pressed a finger to the earpiece tucked under his hair. He nodded, face tightening as he listened. His lips moved almost unconsciously as he repeated what he was hearing.

“…what? …no pulse? …Shadow… dead?”

The crowd stilled.

Unknowing to him, his microphone was still on and what was meant to be a secret was heard by the whole stadium and broadcast live .

A hush swept the stadium like a sudden wind. At first, only the front rows heard. Confusion rippled outward, whispers multiplying into gasps, into shouts.

“Dead?!”

“Shadow is dead?!”

The word tore through the crowd like a spark through dry grass. In seconds, the whole arena was roaring not with cheers, but with horror.