Ficool

Chapter 460 - Chapter 139: Ten’i Muhō vs White Flame

Feeling his wrist fully recovered, Oni immediately tossed the tennis ball into the air. Because of Tatsuta's incredible mobility, he gave up on ultra–high–speed serves this time and chose instead to unleash pure power.

A heavy impact rang out as the ball rocketed toward Switzerland's court with immense force. Tatsuta instantly understood Oni's intent. Smiling faintly, he met the challenge head-on, swinging his racket without hesitation.

The moment the rally began, the court was engulfed in a storm of dust. The audience couldn't see a thing anymore—only the deafening sound of the rally echoed again and again above the court.

But the haze didn't last long. A massive black beam suddenly tore through the smoke, crashing toward Tatsuta with destructive momentum.

"Go to hell! Black Tomahawk!" Oni's thunderous roar shook the air from within the dust cloud.

"Go for it, Oni-ossan!!!" Kintarō's voice came from the sidelines almost at the same time.

This Black Tomahawk carried every ounce of Oni's power. For an ordinary player, the shot would've shattered their wrist instantly. But Tatsuta only grinned, eyes flashing with excitement, and swung forward with both hands.

When the ball struck his racket, the frame sank inward under the pressure, making a sharp creaking sound as if it were about to snap. Tatsuta didn't waver—he tightened his grip and forced the ball forward with sheer strength.

The eight-pack hidden beneath his uniform bulged as he twisted his waist, channeling all his body's explosive power into his arms. After a tense moment of resistance, he managed to return the shot.

However, several of his racket's strings snapped in the process. If the ball had stayed on his racket a second longer, it likely would've pierced straight through.

Seeing his Black Tomahawk returned, Oni's face hardened. There was no time to hesitate—he rushed forward to meet the next shot.

But the instant his racket met the ball, he knew something was wrong. That familiar vibration returned—then came the full surge of Tatsuta's compressed power. The rebound felt as if he were hitting a lead ball, not a tennis ball.

Even so, Oni refused to back down. He gritted his teeth, forcing his arms through the shock to return the ball. But it wasn't enough. The shot didn't clear the net—it dropped on Japan's side with a dull bounce.

"GAME! Switzerland leads, 0–1!"

"Oni got broken…? That's unexpected," Irie said, stunned from the Japan bench.

"And he even had his full-power Black Tomahawk returned," Tanegashima added in disbelief.

"True, Oni's still holding back most of his strength," Kimijima said, pushing up his glasses. "But the Swiss player hasn't shown his full power either. This match's outcome… is hard to predict."

As the Japanese team worried over the development, two figures appeared in the stands—QP and Volk. Both had come to watch the match. Judging by their dry uniforms, neither had played today. Even so, Argentina had already lost their match.

The second game began, Tatsuta's serve. As he stood at the baseline preparing to serve, a dazzling blue light suddenly burst from Oni's body. Countless azure particles swirled around him, and his long crimson hair shot upward.

"Ten'i Muhō no Kiwami!"

"This is… Light of Pride?! Damn, how many players in Japan can awaken that?!" Tatsuta blinked in surprise, then grinned as he called out across the net.

Oni didn't respond. His gaze was unwavering as he bent low, ready to receive. Tatsuta shrugged helplessly, then tossed the ball and began his serve motion.

The instant Tatsuta's serve left his racket, he rushed toward the net to cut down Oni's angles—but before he could take more than a few steps, a golden blur flashed past his side.

"0–15!"

"What?!" Tatsuta whipped his head around. The ball was already rolling quietly in the far corner of the court.

'So this is the power of the Light of Pride... I can't underestimate it,' Tatsuta thought, retreating to the baseline to serve again.

This time he focused completely. He clearly followed Oni's ball path—but when he tried to move, he realized something strange. His speed had dropped slightly. Because of that fraction of delay, he missed the ball.

"0–30!"

Tatsuta didn't give up. Again and again, he tried to intercept Oni's attacks. But under the radiance of Ten'i Muhō no Kiwami, his movements slowed further, his energy fading as the light's pressure eroded his strength.

"0–40!"

"GAME! Japan! 1–1!"

"Still not enough, huh? Looks like I can't deal with Light of Pride using normal means after all," Tatsuta exhaled slowly, shaking his head.

"Yes! Oni-senpai's completely in control with Ten'i Muhō no Kiwami!" Kirihara cheered excitedly from the Japan team's bench.

"Don't get careless, Kirihara!" Sanada warned, his tone serious. "Anyone qualified to play Singles for Switzerland won't go down that easily. Ten'i Muhō alone might not be enough to end this."

"You're right," Yukimura added calmly. "Look closely at Tatsuta's expression. Even though he lost his service game, he doesn't seem fazed at all."

The others turned back toward the court, tension growing. Oni was already at the baseline, ready to serve again. But just as he tossed the ball, something unexpected happened—the shift this time came from Tatsuta.

A white flame-like aura suddenly flared from his entire body, rising like a spirit fire. His energy surged upward instantly, breaking through the suppression of Oni's radiant light.

Even Akashi, usually unshakable, couldn't help showing surprise. That white flame technique—he had seen it before. It was supposed to belong to Mares from Spain. So why was Tatsuta using it?

'If that's the case… then this move might not be Mares' original creation. Or maybe there's a deeper link between them…' Akashi thought silently, eyes fixed on Tatsuta as possibilities ran through his mind.

"Yare yare~ I didn't expect someone from Switzerland to use that move too," Nanjirō said from the stands, his tone amused. "Looks like that old lady's got fans all over the world~"

Oni noticed the white flames surrounding Tatsuta but showed no surprise. He never believed Ten'i Muhō alone would guarantee victory.

Without hesitation, he tossed up the ball again. Blue particles flickered around him as he swung, unleashing another ultra–high–speed serve. The ball streaked through the air, trailing a dazzling line before smashing into Switzerland's backcourt.

Everyone thought Oni had scored an ace—until Tatsuta appeared in front of the ball like a ghost. White spiritual fire danced around him as his racket flashed. In the next instant, the ball was already on Japan's side.

But Oni was just as fast. In the blink of an eye, he moved into position and struck back with a fierce swing.

"Black Tomahawk!"

The ball turned into a giant black axe, cutting straight toward Tatsuta. Under the full power of Ten'i Muhō, its strength had grown severalfold.

But right before the attack landed, a radiant barrier of multicolored light bloomed in front of Tatsuta. The collision shook the court, and the returning ball shot out like a waterfall of light.

"Aurora!"

"0–15!"

'What?! Even in Ten'i Muhō state, I couldn't react in time?!' Oni's heart pounded as the referee's call echoed through the court.

He quickly steadied himself. Now wasn't the time to doubt. Focusing his breath, he served again. The ball roared through the air, blue light streaming behind it.

With the white flame's boost, Tatsuta easily matched Ten'i Muhō's speed. He moved in an instant, hitting the rising ball back with sharp precision.

Oni's blue light blazed even brighter as he slid sideways, intercepting Tatsuta's return with a clean counterstroke. The ball rocketed back toward Switzerland's half, and the two players began their furious rally once more.

Their movements blurred into streaks across the court. The audience could barely follow, but at least now they could see flashes of the ball—better than before, when the court was nothing but a storm of blinding white.

"15–15!"

"30–15!"

"30–30!"

As the rally continued, the score climbed back and forth, neither side yielding an inch. The tension on court was at its peak—this was no longer just a battle of strength or skill, but a pure test of will and endurance.

More Chapters