Once Vulcan activated the Radiance of Amber—Mount Olympus, his speed surged drastically, throwing Hopkins off rhythm for the first time. Though the pain in his shoulder still affected his control, Vulcan no longer cared about that.
Sweat poured down his face as the fierce exchanges continued, but relying on his newfound speed, he began clawing back points—something Hopkins hadn't expected at all.
"Game! Greece! 4–3!"
"Your shoulder's really okay, Larsius?" Hercules asked worriedly as Vulcan returned to the bench.
"Endurance and persistence may be painful," Vulcan replied calmly, "but they eventually bring benefit. Whether it's for victory or for becoming stronger, one must learn to turn suffering into enjoyment."
Neither Zeus nor Hermes said anything. They knew Vulcan well—once he stepped on court, he would never yield, even if it meant collapsing there. Philosophers like him possessed a kind of mental resilience far beyond ordinary understanding.
When the break ended, Vulcan launched another wave of fierce attacks. Though the stabbing pain in his shoulder grew worse, he acted as if he couldn't feel it, completely suppressing Hopkins with brute power.
"Game! Greece! 4–4!"
Inside, Hopkins was struggling. His tennis style was built around exploiting old injuries, but he had never wanted to see an opponent truly crippled by it.
Now, as he watched Vulcan's unyielding determination, he began to waver. On one hand, he held America's chance to reach the semifinals. On the other, he couldn't bring himself to destroy his opponent's career.
Caught between guilt and duty, Hopkins's control faltered, and openings appeared. Vulcan seized them without hesitation, pressing harder and racking up points one after another.
"Game! Greece! 5–4!"
"Game! 6–4! First set over! Winner—Greece! Total score 1–0!"
Just as Vulcan finished the set and turned to walk back, his body suddenly trembled uncontrollably. Then, to his horror, he found he couldn't even take another step.
"Seems your injury's worsened to full-body spasms. Are you sure you want to keep going?" Hopkins asked, immediately realizing what was happening.
Vulcan tried to reply, but before he could speak, his shoulder injury flared violently. His racket slipped from his grasp, and the members of Team Greece rushed onto the court to catch him.
The medics hurried in for emergency treatment. Hopkins stood frozen on the opposite baseline, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes—but his expression soon hardened again with competitive resolve.
"Referee! For the Singles No. 2 match, Greece forfeits," Zeus declared firmly as he stepped up to the umpire's chair.
"Lord Zeus…" Vulcan, half-conscious and still receiving treatment, tried to rise in protest.
"Enough, Larsius. This is our collective decision. Leave the rest to your teammates," Zeus said, cutting him off decisively.
Seeing Zeus's unshakable resolve, Vulcan closed his eyes in frustration. He knew he couldn't change the captain's mind. All he could do was blame himself for not enduring until the end.
After confirming with both teams, the referee officially declared the match a victory for the United States. Hopkins exhaled quietly in relief—at least he wouldn't have to inflict further harm.
"Next up, Singles No. 1 match! United States—Ralph Rhinehart (Third Year)! Greece—Hermes Kounellis (Third Year)! Players, please enter the court!"
———
Meanwhile, on the other court, the second set between Akutsu and Amadeus had begun. Following Akashi's strict order, Akutsu had deactivated Divine Path of the Asura before the match and was now relying solely on his Beast Aura to keep up with Amadeus's offense.
"Game! Switzerland! 1–0!"
Without the deceptive power of Eighth Consciousness, it was nearly impossible for Akutsu to win in a direct rally against Amadeus. Within minutes, Amadeus had comfortably held his serve.
Yet Akutsu showed no anger. He knew exactly what he needed to do. After spending so long in the Asura state in the previous set, his heart had accumulated too much negative emotion—so now, he focused on calming himself and regaining balance.
Amadeus, however, didn't intend to give him that luxury. He ramped up his aggression, closing off every opening and fully displaying the sharp instincts of a professional.
"Game! Switzerland! 2–0!"
"Game! Switzerland! 3–0!"
In the blink of an eye, Amadeus had taken three consecutive games, and the entire Japan bench grew visibly uneasy. In contrast, the Swiss team's faces were lit with confidence and satisfaction.
During the timeout, Akutsu sat quietly on the bench, eyes closed in meditation—something rare for him. No one dared to disturb him. Only Yukimura and Ochi noticed something unusual: the surge of spiritual energy radiating from Akutsu's body was rapidly growing stronger.
Akashi had already realized it. He even knew exactly what Akutsu was preparing to do. Calmly seated on the bench, he simply waited for Akutsu to bring victory home in the Singles No. 2 match.
The fourth game was Akutsu's serve. As he stepped back to the baseline, a layer of silver aura rose around him—he had reentered Divine Path of the Asura. Just as everyone thought he was about to defy Akashi's command and activate Eighth Consciousness again, a colossal figure slowly materialized behind him.
"Divine Path of the Asura! Alternate Dimension—Fenrir the Demon Wolf!"
At that moment, Akutsu finally revealed his trump card in full view. When Amadeus saw it, a wave of disbelief washed over him. Even Byoudouin, during their first battle, hadn't possessed such monstrous power.
While Amadeus was frozen in shock, Akutsu tossed the ball high into the air. As it ascended, a massive moon rose behind him in the realm of his mind.
The next instant, Fenrir raised its head and howled at the moon. The bone-chilling sound echoed across both the physical and mental planes, flooding the court with a suffocating aura of bloodlust. Amadeus stood frozen, paralyzed by the spiritual pressure, as the tennis ball whizzed past him and struck the baseline.
"Howling Moon!"
"Ace! 15–0!"
With the power of Alternate Dimension—Fenrir, the force of Akutsu's Howling Moon Serve skyrocketed. Amadeus didn't even have time to react before the point was gone.
Without pause, Akutsu served again. The second Howling Moon streaked toward the Swiss half. Amadeus was still affected by the wolf's roar, his body momentarily rigid, but he quickly snapped back and sprinted toward the landing point.
Too late. The ball had already zipped past, bouncing out of the court before he could reach it. Amadeus's expression hardened, a rare trace of frustration flickering across his face.
"Ace! 30–0!"
When Akutsu launched his third Howling Moon, Amadeus focused all his willpower, resisting the oppressive howl. Finally, he managed to return the ball.
But just as he exhaled in relief, a massive spectral wolf's claw slashed toward him. A golden sphere of energy spun at its core, gleaming with dazzling brilliance. Acting on instinct, Amadeus swung hard to counter.
The collision erupted in a burst of smoke and wind. A broken racket flew high into the air, while the golden ball continued forward, slamming into the back wall with a thunderous crash.
"Glowing Shot—Claw Rend!"
Thankfully, due to the court change, the wall behind Amadeus hadn't been damaged yet. It now bore deep cracks from the impact—but one more like that and it wouldn't hold.
"40–0!"
Amadeus silently returned to his bench, retrieved a fresh racket, and walked back onto the court. His mind had entered an extreme state of focus—nothing unrelated to the match could reach him now.
Akutsu's fourth serve was once again Howling Moon. This time, Amadeus was ready. He moved quickly to intercept, his dark aura flaring up as he swung. The moment his racket struck the ball, a wave of shadow blanketed the court once more.
But what Amadeus failed to realize was that Akutsu's Alternate Dimension—Fenrir—was born of darkness itself. Not only was Fenrir unaffected, but within that darkness, its power grew even stronger.
In the depths of the mental world, two crimson beams of light pierced through the void. Amadeus barely saw the incoming haze before the sound of a ball striking the ground echoed around him. In his mind's eye, he saw himself torn apart by an enormous wolf's claw.
"Game! Japan! 3–1!"
With Akutsu holding his serve, the momentum of the match shifted completely. And in that moment, the weakness of Amadeus's playstyle was fully exposed—without overwhelming stats across all five attributes, even a pro could crumble under the crushing pressure of an Alternate Dimension.