"Are you kidding me, Akashi?! My evolution is like a thousand miles a day! I don't care if you're from another dimension or whatever—you're getting surpassed!" Atobe practically roared.
This shocked everyone on Hyōtei's sideline. Was this really their self-obsessed captain? They'd never seen him lose control like this—not even two years ago, when he first lost to Akashi and Yukimura.
"Atobe…" Even Shishido Ryō, who often clashed with Atobe, couldn't get a full sentence out. Deep down, he understood exactly how Atobe felt.
"Akashi Seijurō… Looks like I'll have to thank you properly after the match," Sakaki Tarō murmured on the coach's bench.
"Oh ya oh ya~ Looks like Atobe's seriously flustered now," Tanegashima said from the spectator seats, his Kansai dialect sounding oddly out of place.
"Sigh~ Poor little Atobe just had bad luck. Anyway, once we're back at the training camp, I'm definitely keeping my distance from little Akashi!" Irie declared with conviction. Of course, every time Akashi returned to camp, Irie would always be right there hanging around with Oni—so nobody took his words seriously.
"Akashi-kun might seem cold sometimes, but based on the data, he's often extra patient with fellow prodigies from the same generation. There's a 98% chance he's doing this with a specific purpose in mind!" Mitsuya pushed up his glasses and spoke calmly.
'Just don't get hurt… Keep pushing forward with everything you've got, Atobe!' Though Ochi didn't say a word aloud, deep down he was rooting for him. This was Hyōtei's former captain—Ochi Tsukimitsu. Cold and distant on the outside, but righteous and responsible at heart.
Meanwhile, Akashi looked at the fully enraged Atobe across the court and thought to himself that this was probably enough. Pushing him any further might backfire, so he turned without another word and walked to his baseline.
Game five was Atobe's service game. He felt weaker than ever. That constant, overwhelming pressure made it hard to breathe. But he was Hyōtei's Emperor—he couldn't fall here.
With that in mind, Atobe tossed the ball high. By now, the prolonged mental pressure had affected him so much that he could no longer execute Emperor of Ice, he focused all his insight and aimed for the crystal in his vision, even though it wasn't doing much anymore.
"How many times do I have to say it? Against someone way stronger than you, your so-called blind spots are meaningless! Atobe!" Akashi immediately saw through his aim and shot back sharply.
The sound of crystal shattering was followed by Akashi's racket striking the ball. Atobe ignored the mockery. He had no room for anything else now. All he could do was chase the ball over and over again.
That strange energy stirring inside him grew stronger and more restless, but Atobe didn't even notice. Relying solely on sheer willpower, he kept intercepting every ball sent to his side of the court.
Seeing Atobe's worn-out state, Ōtori Chōtarō almost couldn't bear to watch and tried to close his eyes—only to be scolded by Shishido. Right now, the only thing the Hyōtei regulars could do was watch their captain's match to the very end.
"0-15!"
But no matter how hard Atobe tried, he couldn't stop the points from slipping away. The ball flew past his side again, and by the time he turned to chase it down, it was already out of bounds.
"Even after putting yourself in such a pitiful state, you still refuse to give up? Atobe!" Akashi's voice was flat and unreadable as he looked at Atobe.
"Heh… The word 'give up' doesn't exist in my dictionary!" Atobe sneered as he answered.
Then he tossed the ball again, stubbornly aiming for the crystal. Akashi, irritated by his persistence, shifted slightly—instantly erasing all the crystals around him and sealing off Atobe's World of Ice from the root.
"Tch… Even if you really have no blind spots, I'll carve one out myself!" Atobe's gaze turned razor sharp, his pupils narrowing until they almost converged into a single point.
No one knew what Akashi was thinking, but just like before, the rally dragged on for several exchanges. On the sidelines, Tezuka, Yukimura, and Fuji all noticed that Akashi's pupils had turned completely red. They had seen this before—it meant Akashi was ready to go all out.
A flicker of red lightning danced in Akashi's pupils, but it wasn't the ZONE. It was a pseudo-ZONE. Layers of mental energy subtly seeped into Atobe's body, guiding something deep inside him—something only Akashi knew about.
"0-30!"
The referee's voice rang out again. Atobe had lost another point. But more than the score, the torment inside him was unbearable. He felt like he'd already given it his all, yet there wasn't even a sliver of hope in sight.
Atobe in despair, caught in the blizzard.
'There's something I have to admit… When it comes to tennis talent, I can't compare to you, Akashi! You've stood at the top since the very beginning. And that's exactly why—you're the one opponent I must defeat!' Atobe thought, chasing the ball as hard as he could.
'Even though you're right in front of me, I still can't grasp your depth! But I'm Atobe Keigo! So focus… Don't lose sight of the opponent! Let go of everything—feel it with your whole being!'
"0-40!"
"Is this the end?" Tanegashima muttered without thinking as he watched Atobe on the court.
"No! Something really interesting might be about to happen, Shūji!" Irie's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Oh? Not bad, kid. You're way better than my brat," on the opposite end of the spectator seats, Echizen Nanjirō commented with interest as he stared at Atobe.
On the court, Atobe stood at the baseline with his head down. No one could tell what he was thinking. Suddenly, his whole body trembled, and then his iconic wild laughter echoed across the court.
"Hahahahaha! The kingdom was destroyed? Don't be ridiculous! That kingdom was way too small—it wasn't worth mentioning! So now… Atobe Dimension!" As he shouted, a vibrant, star-filled galaxy appeared behind him, like a dimensional starfield.
Dimensional starfield.
"I now stand above the dimensions themselves!" Atobe laughed wildly, tossing the ball high. Leaping into the air, he shouted with absolute confidence as the galaxy behind him shimmered brilliantly.
Atobe Dimension.
His racket, wrapped in interdimensional power, smashed down on the ball. A dazzling trail of stardust followed the tennis ball as it shot toward Akashi's court, the impact far louder than any typical glowing shot.
A limit-surpassing smash.
A ball imbued with dimensional energy.
Akashi responded with a faint smile, though no one else seemed to notice. The ball crashed onto the court, cracking the surface as it bounced up toward Akashi's left. But in the next moment, he intercepted it with a two-handed grip.
However, even after making contact, the ball kept spinning and pushing forward. The radiant starlight around it didn't dim at all. After a brief struggle against Akashi's racket, the ball pierced clean through it, slammed into the baseline, and shot out of bounds.
"ACE! 15-40!"
"My opponent has never been anyone else—it's always been you, Akashi Seijurō!" Atobe declared, his fighting spirit reignited as he shouted across the net.
"You finally took that step, Atobe. Now, you're qualified to stand on a bigger stage," Akashi said in his usual cold tone, but there was a rare trace of approval in his voice.
"Hah? You think you can decide my limits? Time for you to see what power beyond dimension really looks like!" Atobe's confident smirk returned.
"You know… you're forgetting something. So what if it's another dimension? It won't change your fate of defeat, Atobe!" Seeing Atobe get carried away again, Akashi decided to bring him back down.
Suddenly, a massive projection emerged behind Akashi—a figure with dazzling golden hair, dressed head to toe in golden armor, gold earrings dangling from his ears. Arms crossed, his ruby-red eyes radiated disdain and overwhelming dominance.
"Alternate Dimension—Gilgamesh!"
"Filthy mongrel!" Many of the spectators who had watched Fudomine vs. Rikkai just a week earlier heard the same illusionary voice echo in their minds again.
"So this is your dimension, Akashi? Just looking at it pisses me off!" Atobe snapped, then without wasting another word, tossed the ball again and summoned the power of Atobe Dimension, slamming it with full force toward Akashi.
"Gate of Babylon—Chains of Heaven!"
But this time, Atobe's serve couldn't break through Akashi's block. An unfamiliar sense of restraint wrapped around his entire body, leaving him completely frozen. Even his facial muscles were locked in place.
"GAME! Fudomine! 5-0!"
"Impossible!!! What the hell is this power?! I already broke through my limits!" Atobe shouted, stunned once the Chains of Heaven's effects faded.
Akashi didn't respond. He calmly stepped to the baseline, tossed the ball, and behind him, the Gilgamesh projection pointed a finger into the air. A strange void opened, from which a scythe-shaped weapon launched forward.
"Gate of Babylon—Blade of Slaughtering the Undead!"
"ACE! 15-0!"
"ACE! 30-0!"
"ACE! 40-0!"
Three consecutive serves. Akashi fully unleashed his alternate dimension's power, crushing Atobe's final resistance. The match reached match point. With Akashi's final serve, Atobe suddenly let out a desperate roar, unleashing every ounce of strength he had left. Even the dimensional starfield behind him blazed with new intensity.
Atobe, going all-out.
"I will never admit defeat!!! Akashi Seijurō!" Atobe, half-crazed, charged toward the ball. In that moment, he actually broke free from the Noble Phantasm's grip. But it was still too late. Atobe dove with all his might, his racket barely inches from the ball.
Atobe's final desperate lunge.
"GAME! 6-0! Match over! Winner—Fudomine Middle School!"