Asahi Azumane slammed the ball again.
Facing a fierce block formed by two defenders, he chose a diagonal spike, not his specialty.
It was the only open spot.
Yaku Eisuke, having survived Ichinose Guren's ultra-powerful jump serve in the last set, was now on high alert for any of Karasuno's power hitters.
"Thwack!"
The ball flew from Yaku's hands. He staggered a step back from the impact, but having already braced for the force, he still delivered a precise reception.
Azumane descended slowly, fully focused.
He didn't falter after the spike failed.
Instead, he adjusted his stance and prepared for the next wave of attacks.
Without Ichinose Guren in the back row or Tsukishima leading the block, Hyakuzawa Yudai's height gave him an advantage, but also a drawback.
His high center of gravity slowed him down, allowing Kozume Kenma to isolate him, using precise sets and formations reminiscent of Miya Atsumu's skill, to drill Hyakuzawa into submission.
Whenever Hyakuzawa lagged even slightly on the block, Nekoma's attackers exploited it with perfect coordination with their setter.
And Kenma constantly worked to slow him down even further.
Thanks to Kenma's strategic orchestration, Nekoma occasionally broke through Karasuno's block.
But on the ground, with Nishinoya, Sawamura, and Ichinose Guren holding the backline with skill, intuition, or sheer athleticism, the volleyball rarely touched the floor.
In defense, Karasuno usually stationed two of these three in the back row.
Nekoma relied on a system where every player excelled at receiving, trading blows with Karasuno's frontline.
The mature "cat," Kenma, had superior flexibility and reflexes, outmatching the fledgling "crow" in defensive skill.
But this young crow wielded an unnatural weapon.
Attached to his beak was a strange, almost unbalanced steel contraption, yet still deadly enough to tear through Nekoma's defense.
Set two began with Ichinose Guren at full assault.
He imposed massive psychological pressure on Nekoma.
Guren seemed to be everywhere, the busiest player on the court.
Blocking, spiking, saving, even orchestrating small sets when Kageyama was forced into an improvised reception by Kenma.
Though Hinata and Kageyama had discussed trial-and-error strategies mid-set, predicting errors, and trying new angles for the quick attacks, Ichinose Guren didn't care.
He wasn't just enjoying volleyball anymore.
He loved combat.
He had waited too long.
Finally, he had a bag of sandbags to strike freely, and he wasn't about to let tactical "trial errors" dictate his play.
"You make your mistakes. I play mine."
"I don't care how many sets are left today."
"First, I fight for myself."
At this moment, Ichinose Guren was a creature of raw instinct.
His mind is consumed by nothing but fight, fight, fight.
Blinded by battle, he sometimes jumped from unwise positions, trying to block spikes he shouldn't reach.
Though many of his attacks still scored points, his reckless jumps occasionally allowed unplayable balls or caused backrow reception errors.
For Karasuno's backrow, Hyakuzawa's sudden jumps increased the difficulty of every reception.
Luckily, Hyakuzawa's spikes still yielded some results.
When one side fails, the other seizes the chance.
The score began a tense back-and-forth, one point each.
Quietly, Kenma's plan unfolded.
"Every spike, pass it a few steps further."
"Make every block force extra movement."
"Every failed attack, make it about drawing your steps."
"Make every save cost extra effort."
"Block with the tallest player to restrict your forehand."
"Force every jump to the max."
His cold golden eyes watched the young crow's rampage.
Beneath the chaos, Kenma's trap was perfectly set.
Break the tiger's wings, steal the demon's iron rod.
Now, the calico cat had its sights on Karasuno's final ace.
"Step, move, every muscle fiber, each will become the straw that breaks you."
The stronger the opponent, the more important it was to monitor the flow of the match.
Not just the "perfect ball," but the accumulation of a hundred subtle, decisive plays.
This was Nekoma's big-picture vision.
Kenma.
Hinata, restricted by the blocked quick attack, observed the court with calm, calculated eyes, even as his heavy breaths showed the strain.
Every move of the exhausted Ichinose Guren was like drinking poison to quench thirst.
Run, and your stamina drains before the final stage.
Don't run, and you might not even survive to the final stage.
Swap in Tsukishima, block in place, but spike and reception drop.
Swap in Hoshino, reception intact, spike and block gone.
Swap in Tanaka.
Swap in Sugawara.
On the mud-soaked court, under Kenma's manipulation, the crow's red beak glowed ever brighter from exertion.
Steam rose continuously from the steel beak, just as Ichinose Guren's own heat rose from his exertion.
The score quietly reached 23:23.
Both sides knew the third set held little meaning.
Ichinose Guren's stamina was near the limit, entering a third set meant slow, inevitable decline.
Nekoma, having figured out Karasuno's weaknesses, was expected to win the third.
But if Karasuno survived this stretch and scored twice consecutively, they could still clinch victory in the first match.
Both teams knew exactly what they needed to do:
give everything for this set.
Kageyama stepped into the service zone.
The volleyball spun gently in his hand.
He knew: Karasuno didn't need safe passes over the net.
What they needed now was one full-power serve.
In his mind flashed the image of senior Oikawa's powerful serve,
stolen practice from junior high, just to match it.
He tossed, jumped, and struck with all his might.
The ball arced rapidly through the air with spin.
"Nice serve!"
Mori Yukinari managed a brilliant save, sending it back from the ground.
"Sorry! Short!"
Kenma didn't mind the short distance.
A few extra steps were all he needed.
"Doesn't matter, just a few extra steps."
His gaze met Ichinose Guren, ready to pounce.
'Baited.'
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Completed version available on Patreon.com/Veltoria