On the other side, in the match between the United States and Greece, Reinhardt had taken the first set with a 7–5 victory. Hermes's composure was starting to crack. No matter how he analyzed Reinhardt's playstyle, the American always managed to patch his weaknesses in an instant.
The two were now locked in a fierce rally, but Reinhardt clearly held the upper hand. Hermes barely kept up using his speed, yet he couldn't stop the steady loss of points.
"Reinhardt, huh? Definitely a tough opponent," Julio said from the stands, sounding impressed. Beside him stood Benboli and Mares—no one knew when the two had arrived.
"Relax~ I'm sure Medanore will handle him. Honestly, Reinhardt might not even get the chance to play against him," Mares said casually, blinking playfully.
"Whatever. Can we leave already? If we stay any longer, the cake shop's gonna close!" Benboli grumbled, clearly more concerned about desserts than the match.
"Tch, don't get too comfortable, you two!" Julio snapped. "When we get back tonight, you're both following my special training menu!"
"Eh?! No way, Julio Rome! That'll kill us!" Mares groaned, instantly wilting before trying to butter him up.
"It's Julio Roman! How many times do I have to tell you?!" Julio shouted, black lines forming across his face as he glared at Mares, torn between laughter and frustration.
"Man, you two never change," Benboli sighed. "You were just as noisy back at school, and now we're at the World Cup—it's still the same."
"Cut the act, you fake saint!!!" Julio and Mares suddenly yelled together, pointing accusingly at Benboli, their argument reigniting on the spot.
——————————
"GAME! Japan leads, 2–1!"
Back in the Japan vs Switzerland match, Oni had managed to take the third game using Ten'i Muhō no Kiwami. But the rally had dragged on for a long time; even after reaching 40–40, neither side could secure the two-point lead needed to end it.
After an exhausting exchange, Oni finally seized his chance. When the referee called a timeout, both players returned to their benches. Tatsuta, however, sat there completely relaxed, as if he were the one in the lead.
Coach Mifune didn't say a word. He knew exactly how powerful Oni was—what mattered now was when Oni would decide to unleash his full strength.
The break ended quickly, and both players returned to court. Tatsuta served first in the fourth game. Tossing the ball high, his racket flashed white, and the ball shot off like a streak of light, landing hard in Oni's left corner.
A moment later, Oni reached it in time, swinging upward in a fierce topspin. The ball soared high toward Switzerland's backcourt. Clearly, Oni was trying to force Tatsuta into a baseline battle.
From the previous three games, Oni had realized Tatsuta was far more dangerous at the net. Most of his lost points had come from being unable to counter Tatsuta's net intercepts.
Tatsuta understood Oni's plan but didn't rush forward. Instead, he stayed on the baseline, returning one passing shot after another. At first, Oni relaxed slightly, but soon, his brows furrowed.
Every return Tatsuta sent carried that same strange vibration—the compressed energy that released upon contact. Even under Ten'i Muhō's boost, Oni could barely counter it. It felt like his own signature techniques were being sealed.
Akashi's eyes narrowed from the sidelines. Using the Emperor Eye, he could see it clearly—Tatsuta was a perfect all-rounder. Judging from his five-dimensional stats, he might even surpass Oni in total balance. If it came down to pure, fundamental tennis, Oni had no chance of winning.
"GAME! Switzerland! 2–2!"
With that unique explosive force, Tatsuta evened the score, and the white flame around his body now burned brighter, more solid than before.
As Oni returned to the baseline, his resolve hardened. He knew perfectly well—if he couldn't find a way to counter Tatsuta's vibration strike, he'd keep losing points.
The thought alone made his aura flare. The soft blue glow around him intensified, lightning-like particles crackling across his body. The once gentle light became fierce and dazzling.
"Radiance of Strong Heart!"
The moment Oni entered this new state, he tossed the ball skyward. A thunderous impact split the air as he unleashed a ferocious serve, its power shaking the court.
Tatsuta immediately sensed something different. Rushing toward the incoming ball, he swung fast—but as his racket connected, his eyes widened.
The weight pressing down on his wrist was unlike anything before.
As Oni's serve was returned, he didn't hesitate. Rushing to the front court, he leapt slightly, gripping his racket with both hands. Meeting the incoming ball head-on, he swung down hard. In that instant, a brilliant golden flash burst from his racket.
A massive golden beam shot toward Switzerland's half. Tatsuta's eyes sharpened as he poured all his strength into a counter, swinging straight into the golden light. But to everyone's shock, his racket was blown from his hands in less than a fraction of a second.
"Golden Great Broadsword!"
"15–0!"
"That's… Radiance of Strong Heart!" Q.P. exclaimed from the stands, his eyes widening.
"Unbelievable. We searched all of Europe and never found anyone capable of using Radiance of Strong Heart, and yet here it is—in a player from Japan," Volk said, equally surprised.
"The semifinals are in a few days," Q.P. muttered, eyes narrowing. "Judging from Japan's team composition, Oni Juujirou is almost guaranteed to play. Maybe I should be the one to face him."
Volk gave him a brief glance but said nothing. He understood exactly what Q.P. was thinking. Judging by his tone, Q.P. had already decided Japan would win today—and Volk clearly didn't disagree.
Much of that confidence came from Bertie's detailed intelligence. Ever since Germany's loss during the exhibition match, their entire team had begun treating Japan as a top-tier threat—more seriously, in fact, than any of the other Big Four nations.
Through his unique connections, Bertie had gathered extensive information on Japan's lineup. Among those names, Oni Juujirou's stood out. Although he had mysteriously vanished after the previous World Cup, his strength as one of Japan's aces remained unquestioned.
Based on that data, and after seeing Akashi's display earlier, both Volk and Q.P. concluded that Tatsuta wouldn't be able to defeat Oni. The Swiss team was almost certainly headed for defeat in this quarterfinal.
While the two discussed quietly, the match raged on. On court, Oni—empowered by Radiance of Strong Heart and the Golden Great Broadsword—had seized total control. Tatsuta struggled to handle the overwhelming force behind Oni's shots.
Even his unique vibrating returns, which had nullified Oni's Ten'i Muhō, were now easily countered. One after another, Tatsuta's racket was struck from his grip as Oni pressed his advantage relentlessly.
"GAME! Japan leads, 3–2! Change sides!"
As Tatsuta walked back to his bench, Amadeus watched him with a knowing look. Tatsuta responded with a faint smile and a resigned nod—the silent exchange between them showing their deep understanding.
Soon, the sixth game began. It was Tatsuta's serve. Standing at the baseline, he took a deep breath as the white flames around him flared even higher. He tossed the ball, his focus razor-sharp.
When he swung, a faint blue glow wrapped around his racket. A strange, high-pitched crack split the air—and in the blink of an eye, the ball slammed into the wall behind Oni.
"ACE! 15–0!"
"So it's finally here… Tatsuta's Aurora Ray!" Ranbiell said from Switzerland's bench, smiling faintly.
As the referee's call echoed, Oni's eyes widened slightly. That serve had reached Mach-level speed—something he hadn't expected. Even under Radiance of Strong Heart, he couldn't react in time.
But Tatsuta didn't intend to give him a moment's rest. He tossed up the next ball immediately. The same sharp, piercing sound filled the air, and a rainbow streak flashed past Oni before the ball bounced out of the court.
"ACE! 30–0!"
As Tatsuta prepared his third Aurora Ray, Oni suddenly closed his eyes, seemingly giving up on returning it. Of course, everyone from Japan knew better—there was no chance Oni would just yield a point.
The ball became a multicolored streak, tearing through the air toward Oni's right side. Just as it was about to bounce out again, Oni lunged sideways, his racket sweeping out in a desperate attempt to intercept.
He was just a fraction too late—the ball grazed the edge of his racket and shot past him, landing out of bounds.
"ACE! 40–0!"
'He actually reacted by the third serve? Was that just luck… or…?' Tatsuta thought, his gaze narrowing as he studied Oni across the net, uncertain whether to be impressed—or cautious.