"Did Camus just reveal a second-stage Alternate Dimension?!" Yukimura exclaimed in surprise from the Japan bench.
"No," Akashi replied firmly, his tone heavy. "This is what I meant by a special Alternate Dimension. Up until now, Camus's Alternate Dimension was only half-active. When Duke-senpai destroyed his field earlier, it looked like he restored it instantly—but in truth, what we saw was the other half of his dimension taking over."
The others exchanged uncertain glances, but Akashi's sharp eyes gleamed with understanding. He knew exactly what "Twin Blossoms" meant. Two flowers blooming on a single stem—sharing the same root, inseparable in both beauty and fate. Such flowers often express their deepest love through the cruelest pain, until both perish together.
'So this is your interpretation of love, Camus...' Akashi thought quietly, his gaze fixed on the French bench where Camus sat. His emotions were tangled—admiration, pity, and wariness all at once.
"To think an Alternate Dimension like that even exists... guess that's just what makes him Camus, huh?" Kimijima muttered, letting out a low sigh.
"You noticed it earlier, didn't you, Akashi-kun?" Duke suddenly said, his voice calm but resolute.
Akashi nodded. "Yes. This unique form of Alternate Dimension, once fully awakened, can rival a normal second-stage dimension. That means the final set will be extremely difficult for you, Duke-senpai." His tone was steady but serious, every word deliberate.
"Heh~ I already prepared myself for that before this match began," Duke replied with a confident grin. "Whether it's one flower or two, I'll just destroy them all." The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, his usual easygoing face replaced by rare, fierce determination.
"Be careful, kid!" Mifune-sensei's rough voice cut in. "Your destructive power isn't absolute. And that brat Camus—his Alternate Dimension's probably hiding something more!"
"I understand, coach. I won't let my guard down," Duke answered solemnly, his grip tightening around his racket.
Meanwhile, over on the French bench, Camus sat silently with his eyes closed, adjusting to the flow of his newfound power. His mind replayed every moment of the match—each strike, each serve, and every pulse of Duke's destructive aura.
"Hmm... seems I'm still missing one final key to reach perfection," Camus murmured softly, opening his eyes again after a long breath.
In the audience, the stands had grown crowded with players from other national teams who came to witness the match. But among the American team, someone was missing—Ryoga was nowhere to be seen. Ryoma sat silently, his head bowed, lost deep in thought.
"Hey, Dudu," Kiko whispered, nudging his teammate with an elbow. "Did you hear what the Echizen brothers were talking about earlier? Ryoma didn't look so good. And where the heck did Ryoga go?"
"I think they were talking about their opponent or something—I didn't catch it all. As for Ryoga, he got a call earlier and said he was heading to the airport to pick someone up," Dudu replied quietly after thinking for a moment.
"To the airport, huh...?" Kiko muttered, frowning as if sensing something unusual.
Meanwhile, at Melbourne Airport, a plane from the United States slowly touched down. From the passenger tunnel emerged a man wearing a bright floral shirt and sunglasses, his entire appearance radiating a carefree, tropical vibe—as though he had just come straight from Hawaii.
"You're earlier than planned, old man," Ryoga said casually, tossing an orange up and down in his hand, his tone light but teasing.
"Heh, what can I say? I heard the girls in Australia are pretty cute, so I decided to come early and see for myself," the floral-shirted man chuckled, his grin carrying a hint of mischief.
"Come on, you don't have to keep pretending, do you?" Ryoga sighed, shaking his head helplessly.
"Jeez, can't you take a joke?" the man replied, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. As the airport lights fell across his face, his identity became unmistakable—the legendary tennis player himself, Echizen Nanjirō.
"Enough jokes. Let's talk business," Ryoga said, his smile fading as his tone grew cold. "So, when are you going to teach me the rest of that secret technique, old man?"
"Oh? You're that eager, huh?" Nanjirō smirked, clearly amused. "Or did something happen to push you over the edge?"
"Maybe," Ryoga replied flatly, shrugging. "But if you don't plan on teaching me, I don't mind taking your tennis by force."
Nanjirō's grin widened. "Hahaha! If you think you can, then go ahead and try, boy!" he laughed, though his eyes sharpened with a rare seriousness. The air between father and son instantly grew tense, charged with the weight of power and pride.
"Heh~ are you planning to go meet the Spanish team now?" Ryoga asked, deliberately shifting the topic.
"No, not yet. It's not the right time," Nanjirō said with a faint smirk. "I think watching Japan's match first might be more entertaining. Besides… Ryōma should've grown enough to face you by now, don't you think?" His tone carried a teasing weight, though he didn't wait for Ryoga's reply. Instead, he slipped on his sunglasses and walked straight out of the airport.
At the match between France and Japan, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The three-minute break passed in an instant. At the referee's signal, Camus and Duke stepped back onto the court with firm, unshaken strides. Both knew that this final set would decide everything.
The first game began with Duke serving. Standing at the baseline, the colossal shadow of the Destruction Demon God reappeared behind him, towering over half the court.
In sheer size alone, it rivaled even the Titan Form of Germany's Dankmar. With a deafening roar, the Demon God raised its massive hand, its palm dark as a storm cloud, and slammed it down toward Camus.
At the same time, the tennis ball shot forward like a black lightning bolt, streaking straight for Camus's position. Duke clearly intended to open the final set at full power—to seize the advantage from the very start.
Yet, even faced with such ferocity, Camus showed no intent to use his Twin Blossom Alternate Dimension. Instead, he wrapped his racket in radiant light filled with the power of love and stepped forward fearlessly. His gaze burned with calm certainty.
"Not enough… this level's still far from enough!" Camus shouted as the ball hammered against his racket again and again, each impact crashing like thunder against the court. Inside, he could feel it—he was drawing closer to that elusive breakthrough.
The glow on his racket slowly dimmed, and with it, the destructive power within the ball began to fade. Duke immediately sensed something was off. From experience, he could tell—his destructive energy was draining far too quickly this time.
His brow furrowed. The power that should've shattered any defense was being swallowed whole, leaving almost no impact. 'Did he already find a way to counter my serve?' Duke thought grimly.
Even so, though Camus managed to neutralize the destruction, his counterattack never made it over the net. The ball, drained of all momentum, struck the top of the net and dropped limply to the ground.
"Ace! 15–0!"
Camus showed no frustration at the lost point. He moved swiftly back to his baseline, eyes sharp, body ready, determination blazing as he prepared for the next serve.
Seeing his opponent's unwavering focus, Duke didn't dare hesitate. He inhaled deeply, tossing the ball high, and swung with full force.
Another black shockwave ripped through the air, charging toward Camus. But again, Camus met it head-on. Tiny sparks of starlight danced across his racket face, dazzling like constellations in a midnight sky.
The ball's destructive power was neutralized even faster this time. Though his return still failed to cross the net, Duke's expression darkened.
"Ace! 30–0!"
For the next two serves, Camus continued to block with his power of love. He couldn't yet send the ball back, but with each attempt, he looked steadier—his timing smoother, his control sharper. It was only a matter of time before he succeeded.
"Ace! 40–0!"
"Game! Japan! 1–0!"
With four powerful destructive serves, Duke claimed the opening game. Yet, instead of joy, unease filled his heart. Camus's strange composure gnawed at him.
As the second game began, Camus took his place behind the baseline. In an instant, a sea of flowers bloomed across his side of the court, painting the world in color. Behind him, two radiant roses slowly emerged in midair, petals glowing with life. A faint, sweet fragrance drifted through the arena.
When he tossed the ball for his serve, one of the twin roses began to bloom. Its petals unfurled like the mouth of a giant beast, swallowing the surrounding air. Then, a familiar power wave surged from Camus—one Duke recognized instantly, flooding across the court like a tide.
The sharp crack of impact split the air. Duke reacted without thinking, flashing to the landing point. Determination flared in his eyes as he swung to meet the ball—but the moment contact was made, his pupils shrank in shock.
A violent tremor ran through his arm. His racket shuddered uncontrollably, as though struck by an invisible force.
Duke's eyes widened. A foreboding chill swept through him—and then, before anyone could react, cracks spread across his racket like a spider's web. One after another, the strings snapped with sharp twangs, unable to withstand the overwhelming energy bursting through.
The tennis ball pierced straight through the broken frame and flew out of bounds like a bullet.
The arena fell utterly silent. Both teams stared, stunned, as the fragments of Duke's racket clattered to the floor.
"Ace! 15–0!"
"So this is what the power of destruction feels like…" Camus murmured with a calm smile, excitement glinting in his eyes. "I should thank you for helping me perfect it, Duke!"
Behind him, one of the twin roses blazed with brilliant crimson light, petals shimmering like fire. Its glow engulfed the court, illuminating everything in its path.