423 Advancing and Retreating

It was the eleventh round, and the match was nearing its end.

Highfield tried throwing a jab. Taylor dodged it and shuffled forward. Highfield immediately retreated in order to create a safe distance between him and Taylor.

How is Taylor still not tired! He is already 33 years old. How is his stamina better now than when he was younger? Highfield started to wonder nervously. This was completely different from what he had expected.

The endurance that Taylor demonstrated was far beyond what Highfield had imagined. He thought that Taylor wouldn't be able to last this long. He never imagined that Taylor would still be so energized after ten rounds.

Are we really going to fight all 12 rounds? Highfield suddenly realized.

At the same time, Taylor started to attack. He combined his signature rushing technique with a punch. This broke Highfield's train of thought. He had to clear his head and focus on the present fight.

Against the master of defense, Taylor's attacks were futile. Highfield dodged his attacks and then lunged forward to clinch at Taylor. The referee had no choice but to pause the match and separate the two.

After that, everything just repeated itself. Another test, another attack, and another dodge.

Finally, the bell rang, and the eleventh round was over. Highfield returned to his corner. He could finally calm down enough to think and analyze the situation.

A sense of fatigue suddenly overcame Highfield. He wanted to lie down and rest. It was only after he had a drink that he felt better. After eleven rounds, Highfield had also used up a lot of his strength. He was already 34 years old, a year older than Taylor. A high-intensity match like this one was also very challenging for him.

The coach went over and said, "Right now we are behind on points. You have four points to catch up."

Highfield's face suddenly looked heavy. Four points. If it were a few rounds earlier, he wouldn't even care, but now that they were in the last round, there was no way that he would be able to catch up against Kevin Taylor.

If the match ended without a knockout, then the winner would be decided by points. If it came to that, Highfield would lose, and he would lose his WBA championship belt.

This is the last round. My strength is almost depleted. Taylor probably isn't in any better condition, he must also be at his limit. Maybe if I attack one more time, I will be able to knock him down! After Highfield thought of this, he decided to give it a shot.

...

Taylor kept up a fast breathing pattern. In this high-intensity match, he had depleted a lot of his energy. His muscles had built up a significant amount of lactic acid. He needed to keep breathing to get rid of the lactic acid.

It is already the last round, and I am leading by four points. More importantly, I still have enough stamina! Coach Li is right, I can last all 12 rounds. Taylor thought that with his remaining stamina, he could initiate two to three more attacks.

In actuality, I only need to keep defending to win. There is no way Highfield can catch up by four points in just one short round, Taylor thought. He turned around and asked Ayres, who was beside him, "Coach, it is already the last round. What should I do? Do I attack or defend?"

"What do you think? Do you want to attack or defend?" Ayres asked back.

"I don't know," Taylor replied.

Ayres smiled, and said, "Kevin, there is only one round left in this competition. As your coach, I have already done everything I can to help. For the rest of the match, you need to make your own decisions. Attack or defend. It's your choice. The only advice I can give you is to trust your instinct."

"My instinct?" Taylor's eyes showed confusion.

"Yes." Ayres nodded earnestly. "You are a boxer. When you are in the ring, you are not only trying to win, you are showing a true version of yourself, the real Kevin Taylor!"

Taylor understood what Ayres meant. He stood up and walked confidently towards the center of the ring.

...

The bell rang, signifying the start of the last round.

Highfield adopted a different stance. His body leaned forward, he threw a jab to test the waters.

"Does Highfield want to attack? He must have noticed that he is behind on points, so he's taking the initiative to attack. Although Highfield is considered a master of defense in heavyweight boxing, his attacking skills are also world-class. His punches aren't the heaviest, but at a close distance, the technique and speed of his punches always make his opponents feel pain."

When the commentator's voice disappeared, Highfield approached Taylor.

As a bronze medalist in the Olympics, Highfield's technique was impeccable. His punches were characterized by speed and accuracy. One hit wouldn't be enough to knock someone down, but it could definitely cause a good amount of damage. If the damage kept on accumulating, it would eventually become fatal.

To put it simply, Highfield's punches were like running water. If a jagged rock were constantly washed by the stream, it would eventually turn into a smooth cobblestone.

Taylor's body, however, was like steel. His ability to take punishment was amongst the best in heavyweight boxing. His fighting style determined that if he intended to hit others, he first needed to be hit. So when Highfield attacked, Taylor didn't retreat, he sprang forward, hid his vital spots, and delivered a blow to Highfield.

Yet again, everything happened as quick as a blaze. The two quickly exchanged blows, and it ended with them clinching on each other.

The same thing had happened a few times in the early rounds. Highfield attacked, Taylor retaliated, and they each gave the other a few blows. Some did not even land. Basically, neither of them gained any advantage. It usually ended with both of them retreating, or clinching each other before getting separated by the referee.

It happened again. I hit him, and he hits me. Highfield stared at Taylor, who stood right across him. He recalled their last exchange, and he realized that Taylor did not move any slower than usual.

Taylor is still able to fight. How much energy does he have left?

...

Taylor's chest was moving up and down as he panted heavily. Every attack he made used up a lot of his energy.

During the last exchange, Highfield hit me, and I hit him as well. They were both effective hits. Both of us lost one point. So my four-point advantage is still there. There isn't much time left in the round. If I keep fighting defensively, victory will be mine.

The word "defense" popped up in Taylor's mind, but it made him feel awkward.

Defense? Damn it, I am Kevin Taylor; the word defense isn't in my vocabulary. Am I getting old? Has my fighting style changed? I kept dodging like a coward and delaying, waiting for the match to end. That is not something Kevin Taylor would do! When I was first learning to box, Angie told me that boxing is about knocking out the opponent!

Taylor couldn't help but think of his adoptive father, Angie. The next moment, Taylor's eyes were filled with fire.

I am Kevin Taylor. I don't only desire victory. I want to attack, and knock out my opponent. That is my only goal! Only unrelenting attacks; that is the real me!

In the next second, Taylor moved forward decisively.

...

Taylor is attacking again! Highfield dodged and evaded his attack.

He just keeps on coming. This is already the last round, and he is leading by four points. He only needs to defend, and he will win, but he just keeps attacking! Highfield looked at Taylor, feeling slightly confused. If he were in the same position, he would definitely choose to fight defensively, waste time, and wait for victory to come to him.

Does Taylor want to knock me out? But he will only exhaust himself with these kinds of attacks, and he might even expose an opening to me. That will give me a chance to make a comeback. I only need to wait for him to attack, and give him a fatal blow!

As Highfield thought of this, he suddenly felt excited, as if he had a glimmer of hope.

Hwee! Hwee! Hwee! The whistle blew.

Taylor attacked again. He delivered a flurry of punches, and Highfield heard the wind that they generated. In truth, Taylor's punches were faster than the wind. Highfield only heard the sound after he dodged Taylor's attack.

What a fierce attack! Highfield thought, surprised. The excitement he had earlier vanished in a flash.

Taylor is really aiming to knock me out! I get hit by one of these punches, I'm done!

If I get knocked out, I won't only be losing this match, I will look bad as well!

I am only behind by four points right now. This is only a slight lead. If I lose by a small lead, I won't look as bad!

There is only a little time left. Do I want to risk it? I have a chance to knock out Taylor.

But he also has a chance to knock me out! I have already lasted this long. Do I want to get knocked out in the last round?

In those few seconds, Highfield's head was in a fierce struggle. It was as if there were an angel and a devil standing on his shoulders, arguing about what he should do.

Do I risk it? Or just keep dodging?

Highfield did not know which decision he should make, but his body made the decision for him.

Taylor started a new attack.

Highfield instinctively retreated.

It wasn't a conscious decision, but just a natural reaction from his body.

Highfield's instinct was telling him that, when faced with such a situation, it was better to retreat!

...

Below the ring, when Highfield chose to retreat, Ayres let out a long sigh.

"He advanced, but Highfield retreated! The match is over! We've won…"