"Akashi-kun's Glowing Shot is already as powerful as my Home Run!" Duke said from the Japan team's bench, his tone mixed with awe and fatigue. His face was still pale, clearly not yet recovered from his earlier energy drain.
"I'm starting to wonder if we should be worried about the audience's safety," Tanegashima muttered, remembering a certain moment back at the U-17 training camp—the scene when Akashi had unleashed his Mana Cannon. That terrifying blast had shaken everyone present to the core.
"Ugh… don't jinx it! He's not actually going to use that move, right? If he does, that poor French prince is gonna be done for!" Omagari groaned, his face twisting in disbelief.
"Based on Akashi's personality, the probability of him using the Mana Cannon in the next few rallies is 96.7%," Mitsuya said flatly, his words slicing through Omagari's last shred of optimism like a knife.
"Don't worry," Duke chuckled. "Leopold won't just sit back and let the audience get hurt." He knew Camus's strength well enough—stopping Akashi's Mana Cannon wouldn't be a problem for him.
"Still, keep an eye on it, Tanegashima. Be ready. If anything goes wrong, you'll need to intercept Akashi's Mana Cannon immediately," Coach Mifune said from the sidelines, clearly uneasy. If the crowd actually got hurt, things would get ugly fast.
"Eh? Why me again?" Tanegashima muttered unhappily, but he still reached into his bag, pulling out his racket just in case.
While the Japan team worried about the audience's safety, Ludovic had already switched to a brand-new racket. Despite being blasted back earlier, it had only been because his racket snapped at the last second—his body hadn't sustained any real injury.
As Ludovic stepped back onto the court, his face was cold and focused. The audience cheered for him once more, though this time, a few voices had started calling out Akashi's name too.
Blocking out all distractions, Ludovic grabbed a new ball, tossing it lightly into the air. His sharp eyes locked on target, and in that instant, every ounce of hesitation vanished.
A deep, sharp thud rang out. The ball cut through the air like lightning, streaking over the net and straight into Akashi's half.
But Akashi had already seen it. By the time the ball bounced, he was waiting at the exact spot. With a smooth backhand swing, he sent it flying back like an arrow loosed from a bow, speeding toward the left baseline.
Ludovic dashed hard to the left. As soon as he reached the corner, he countered with a powerful crosscourt shot—so fast that many spectators couldn't even track the ball's shadow before it zipped back toward Akashi.
Yet, in a bizarre twist, the ball seemed to bend mid-flight as if guided by some invisible force, homing in perfectly toward Akashi again. Without missing a beat, Akashi met it with another effortless swing, sending it back to the right corner of Ludovic's court.
Ludovic's chest tightened as he sprinted after it, refusing to give up. He launched himself toward the right side and aimed to counter with a straight-line passing shot. But his momentum threw off his balance—the angle slipped out of his control. The ball went straight back to Akashi, who hadn't moved from his spot.
Akashi watched the returning ball with calm eyes, his expression as still as a mirror's surface. He gave a gentle flick of his wrist, and the ball's speed instantly died, rolling lazily over the net as if completely tamed.
"Damn it!" Ludovic cursed under his breath, rage flashing across his face as he charged forward.
He reached the net just as the ball was about to land, scooping it up with a quick lift. The ball curved beautifully through the air, landing neatly in front of Akashi again. But before Ludovic could even reset his stance, Akashi's racket blurred. The ball streaked forward like a phantom, landing right on the sideline before bouncing out of play.
"0–40!"
"Is that... a Domain?!" Kirihara shouted from the Japan bench, eyes wide in disbelief.
"No," Tezuka said firmly, shaking his head. "Akashi didn't control the ball's spin. There was no Domain rotation at all."
"Incredible! He calculated both players' shots to this level?!" Yanagi's eyes widened, his analytical calm shattered.
"So his eyes really can see the future, huh? That's beyond what data tennis could ever reach!" Inui said, nearly doubting his own entire system.
"You're wrong," Mitsuya interrupted, his voice steady. "What Akashi-kun just did was data tennis—but taken to its absolute limit. He accounted for everything—his own shot placement, his opponent's predicted movement, return angle, air resistance, gravity shifts, even center-of-mass transitions. Every variable was under his control."
"No way... That's impossible!" Shiraishi said, utterly shocked. Even knowing Akashi's strength, Mitsuya's explanation still left him speechless.
At the same time, Ludovic was already on his fourth serve. His expression was dark and tense—his pride had been completely shattered. That humiliating feeling of being manipulated like a puppet made him feel as if he were about to break.
But then, the same scene replayed once again. Akashi stood motionless at the center of the court, swinging his racket with effortless precision. Meanwhile, Ludovic was forced to run frantically from side to side. His returns were sharp and powerful, yet no matter how he hit, the ball always seemed to end up right in front of Akashi.
"Heh~ I see now. Look closely at Akashi's eyes!" Atobe said with a sharp grin from the sidelines.
Everyone's gaze instantly turned toward Akashi—more precisely, toward his eyes. His pupils, once mismatched—one red and one gold—had now become a uniform shade of faint crimson, gleaming like two deep rubies.
The players from Fudomine, who had once been Akashi's teammates for three years, immediately realized what that meant. They had long known about Akashi's immense ability, but this was something beyond what they had ever witnessed.
Even though they didn't know the term "Perfect Emperor Eye," they could feel the overwhelming power radiating from his gaze. Every time both his pupils turned the same color, Akashi's control over the ball would reach an entirely new level. Placement, spin, speed—everything became perfectly predictable, perfectly controllable.
"Game! Japan! 4–0!"
Ludovic couldn't last much longer. Under Akashi's flawless control, he made a mistake after barely six or seven rallies. Akashi took the fourth game effortlessly. In that moment, Ludovic finally understood just how vast the gap between them truly was.
"Have you realized your limits now? You have no chance of winning this match," Akashi said coldly as he approached the net, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
"You've got to be kidding! The match isn't over yet!" Ludovic shot back, his glare burning with defiance.
"Pointless resistance," Akashi replied flatly, turning away as if he hadn't even heard him.
Back at the baseline, Akashi picked up a ball. With a flick of his finger, it rose gracefully into the air, tracing a perfect arc—like a meteor cutting across the night sky.
At that instant, a strange power surged from within him. Behind him, golden ripples shimmered into existence, spreading outward like waves across a still lake, carrying an otherworldly glow that seemed to blur the line between reality and illusion.
As Akashi swung his racket, a soft blue light burst from within the ripples. In the air, a shining sword began to take form—its blade forged of pure frost-like steel, glimmering with thin streams of cold, azure light. Each glint carried an overwhelming aura of divine might.
Before Ludovic could even process what he was seeing, the sword shot forward, piercing straight through him like a beam of light. His body froze—unable to move, unable to react. Then the sword vanished in a blink, replaced by a blazing tennis ball that slammed into the backcourt and bounced high out of bounds.
"King's Treasury—Balmung!"
"Ace! 15–0!"
"W–What was that… just now?!" Ludovic muttered in disbelief, his mind unable to comprehend what he had witnessed.
But Akashi gave him no time to think. He tossed the ball again, his motion smooth and controlled, his hand and the ball moving as if they shared the same rhythm. The golden ripples behind him pulsed once more, forming what looked like a portal—an entrance to another world.
When his racket struck, a dazzling light burst forth from the golden gate. A silver long sword shot out, gleaming with a cold, blinding brilliance.
The sword sliced through the air like a lightning bolt, splitting the ground with a deafening crack. Jagged cracks spidered across the court, radiating outward from the impact point. The sheer force of it sent a tremor through Ludovic's chest—he felt a primal fear deep in his soul.
Yet, buried somewhere in his memory, that sword felt oddly familiar. He tried to recall, to piece together where he had seen it before, but the thought slipped through his grasp like smoke.
"King's Treasury—Durandal!"
"Ace! 30–0!"
"That's… the Angel's Sword!" Ludovic shouted in shock, his eyes wide as the light from Akashi's serve faded across the court.