"That's pretty miserable, huh~ little guy!" From the stands, Ryōga grinned as he watched Ryōma's current state. His tone held no worry at all—only playful teasing.
"Ryōma! You need to break out of Zeus's rhythm. If you keep playing at his pace, he'll keep scoring!" Reinhardt, the calm captain, walked over to where Ryōma sat on the bench. He crouched down to meet Ryōma's eyes, his voice gentle but firm.
"I know, captain! The match's just getting started—it's finally getting interesting!" Ryōma smiled, his words brimming with fearless confidence, as if no opponent in the world could make him back down.
Reinhardt blinked in mild surprise. He had meant to encourage Ryōma, but now realized his concern was unnecessary. Ryōma hadn't been discouraged by Zeus's strength—instead, it had lit an even stronger fire in him. Reinhardt patted Ryōma's shoulder, then stood silently in support.
When the break ended, Ryōma and Zeus returned to the court. The fourth game was Ryōma's serve. He walked to the baseline—and suddenly did something that stunned everyone. Ryōma switched his racket to his right hand. The crowd erupted in murmurs, unsure what he was planning.
Ryōma ignored the noise. He picked up a ball and tested its bounce a few times. Then, tossing it into the air, he jumped lightly, drew his right arm back, and struck the ball at its peak. The ball spun violently through the air toward Greece's court.
Zeus smiled as he watched. Instead of moving to intercept directly, he slid to the left. The ball bounced and curved sharply, veering toward the sideline. Just before it went out, Zeus swung with perfect timing and caught it cleanly.
"Tricks like that won't work on me, young one~" Zeus said with a relaxed laugh.
"So even the Samurai Spin doesn't work, huh? Then let's try this one!" Ryōma's eyes sharpened. Though surprised Zeus returned his serve so easily, he wasn't discouraged—his determination only grew.
In the next instant, Ryōma switched his racket back to his left hand. A brilliant golden light burst from his right hand as he swung. When the racket struck the ball, dazzling light erupted from the sweet spot, scattering across the court.
Wrapped in a layer of golden brilliance, the ball shot forward with explosive power, tearing through the air toward Greece's court. Zeus's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't hesitate—he stepped in and swung.
The ball struck his racket, spinning fiercely for a split second—then pierced straight through the strings, still blazing as it rocketed past and embedded itself deep in the wall behind him. The entire stadium gasped in shock, stunned silent for a heartbeat.
"Glowing Strike—Hope!"
"15–0!"
"Hey~~~~ even the almighty Zeus-sama can't see through this one? Guess today's match will end just like yours with Akashi-senpai!" Ryōma tilted his cap up slightly, pointing his racket at Zeus with a confident, taunting grin.
———
"Game! Japan! 5–2!"
Back at the Japan–Switzerland match, Kirihara had taken the fifth game using his enhanced Angel Mode, boosted across all five attributes—and on top of that, he'd activated Muga no Kyōchi. He managed to secure the lead, though he knew Muga would soon lose its effect on Henri.
"Oi, seaweed brat! Watch your stamina. This isn't a one-set match!" Byoudouin called out from the bench as Kirihara returned, panting heavily.
"Don't worry~ I feel great right now!" Kirihara frowned slightly. Though annoyed by Byoudouin's nickname, he understood the advice was sound. He forced his voice to stay light. He really did feel strong—but he also knew the coming rounds would be brutal.
Akashi had been watching him closely, his sharp crimson eyes never missing a detail. He could sense it—the clash between the Devil and Angel powers raging inside Kirihara. The conflict made him stronger, but the strain on his body was immense.
Akashi knew those two forces weren't infinite. Without proper control and pacing, Kirihara would lose his edge before the match ended. So Akashi quietly stepped up beside him, leaned close, and whispered a few words into his ear.
Kirihara's expression shifted—first surprise, then sudden realization, and finally, excitement. Akashi's words seemed to light a clear path before him, pointing directly to the key that would decide the rest of the match.
Just as the others were about to ask what Akashi had said, the timeout ended. Kirihara returned to the court with a faint smile, racket in hand, while Akashi remained silent. He didn't need to explain—he knew the coming set would be a true test, and that Kirihara was about to face his greatest challenge yet.
The eighth game was Henri's serve. Standing behind the line, he gripped the ball tightly, eyes firm yet tinged with unease. Gone was the overflowing confidence from the start of the match. Henri knew that if he lost this game, the first set would slip away completely—a result he refused to accept.
His gaze locked across the net onto Kirihara. He noticed the boy hadn't entered that strange state from before. Henri quietly guessed that it must place a heavy strain on the body; otherwise, there was no reason Kirihara would abandon it now, at such a crucial point.
Taking a steadying breath, Henri tossed the ball upward. The crisp sound of impact followed, and the ball carved a sharp arc through the air, spinning fiercely as it hurtled toward Japan's court.
Kirihara sprinted to the landing spot. After deftly neutralizing the spin, he drew in a deep breath and began to gather his strength—only for his right hand to swing almost on instinct.
The shot was fast but not particularly strong. It was clear he hadn't unleashed his full power. Seeing that, Henri's suspicions deepened, and he moved in immediately.
Charging the net, Henri adjusted his steps mid-run, angling his racket precisely. As the ball reached him, he intercepted and returned it with powerful rotation, sending it shooting back toward Japan's half.
Kirihara made no move to enter Angel Mode. Though Henri's return had a sharp angle, it wasn't enough to end the rally in one shot. Catching up to the ball, Kirihara first canceled out most of the spin—then drew in a deep breath and instantly entered Full Concentration Burst.
The moment his racket connected, Henri's eyes widened. A yellow afterimage flashed before him, and the next sound he heard was the ball slamming into the ground behind him.
"0–15!"
Henri was stunned. Kirihara had first erased the spin, then entered burst mode—allowing him to boost his speed dramatically while keeping his control intact. The ball no longer followed the predicted trajectory Henri relied on.
Though shaken, Henri said nothing. Returning to the baseline, he quickly grabbed another ball and launched another spinning, high-speed serve.
This time, he watched Kirihara's every move carefully. Their rally exploded into a flurry of rapid exchanges. After three or four intense shots, Kirihara once again neutralized the spin and burst forward, unleashing another explosive counter.
But Henri had been watching closely—he managed to anticipate the general direction this time and actually caught up to the shot. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time for him to add any spin of his own.
Kirihara appeared in front of the ball almost like he'd teleported, striking it hard. Henri couldn't react quickly enough and could only watch helplessly as the ball rocketed past the baseline.
"0–30!"
With Akashi's guidance, Kirihara had regained the full strength of his Concentration Burst. But Henri wasn't ready to give in yet. His eyes blazed with renewed determination.
Somehow, Henri managed to match Kirihara's burst speed—barely, but still closer than before. Yet that alone wasn't enough to stop the gap widening.
"0–40!"
As match point approached, the crowd collectively held its breath. Henri steadied himself, tossing up the ball again, striking with all his focus. The fierce rally resumed once more.
But this time, something was different. When Kirihara entered Burst, Henri didn't get thrown off rhythm. Instead, as he returned the ball, he deliberately added a precise spin—and a confident smile spread across his face.
At that exact moment, Kirihara reached the ball and—unexpectedly—canceled his burst state. His body shifted instantly into Angel Mode. The next shot curved beautifully toward Henri's far left corner.
Caught mid-movement, Henri froze. The ball struck the corner cleanly and bounced out of bounds before he could even react—almost as if mocking his misread.
"Game! 6–2! First set over! Winner—Japan! Overall score: 1–0!"