Akutsu didn't react much to Amadeus's words. He knew the flaws of Eighth Consciousness all too well. Even if it wasn't Akashi, players like Atobe or Irie would be able to see through it eventually, as long as they had enough time.
But Akutsu never intended to rely solely on Eighth Consciousness to win this match. Unless he, like Byoudouin, risked his life to unleash Eighth Consciousness—which he neither knew nor planned to learn—he had no reason to depend on it entirely.
With that thought, Akutsu tossed the ball again without hesitation. Six overlapping silhouettes appeared at the baseline. Amadeus, calm and focused, managed to read through four of them instantly.
As the sound of the hit echoed, he guessed wrong again. The ball struck the opposite court and bounced out of bounds. Still, Amadeus had finally caught a glimpse of something deeper—a moment of true insight.
"Ace! 40–0!"
On the next serve, Akutsu used Eighth Consciousness again. This time, Amadeus anticipated the shot correctly and returned it successfully. Yet before he could reset, Akutsu reactivated Eighth Consciousness mid-rally, catching him completely off guard.
"Game! Japan! 3–2! Change sides!"
'Even though fate keeps setting them against each other, Akutsu has already changed his destiny,' Akashi thought to himself as the referee announced the changeover. 'In the original timeline, this was where Amadeus dragged him across the court by one leg.'
"Think you can read all his moves, Alexander?" asked Tatsuta from behind as Amadeus returned to the bench.
"I already saw through five of his illusory stances on that last point," Amadeus replied evenly. "But I doubt that's his limit."
"You'd better stay cautious," Tatsuta said seriously. "That guy's one of Japan's main lineup. He just hadn't been on court before, so we underestimated him."
"Don't worry," Amadeus said, his eyes sharp. "I'll treat him as an opponent on the same level as Byoudouin."
Now completely grounded, Amadeus had shed his earlier arrogance—or rather, his pride. When the match began, he'd instinctively looked down on his middle school opponent. Missing his expected match with Byoudouin had also thrown off his mindset.
'Seriously… Japan's middle school players this year are completely insane. Compared to them, our Swiss middle schoolers—aside from Henri—are just barely decent,' he thought, sighing quietly to himself.
The break ended quickly. As both players returned to court, Amadeus's aura surged. With his mindset realigned, he was finally ready to show the true power of a professional.
As soon as he tossed the ball, darkness fell over the court. In that shroud of black, every weakness in Akutsu's body was laid bare before Amadeus's sharpened perception.
'Extraordinary flexibility and explosive power… and that seemingly endless stamina. Truly rare physical traits. But the more extreme the strengths, the more fragile the balance… that's your weakness,' Amadeus thought as he swung.
The serve exploded off his racket, and the two dove into another furious exchange. Smoke and dust rose from the court as the rallies grew faster and heavier. Many in the audience could no longer see the details of the match clearly.
After six or seven rallies, Akutsu once again activated Eighth Consciousness. Six mirrored stances filled the court—but this time, Amadeus read through them instantly. Five illusions vanished from his sight, leaving only the real shot.
Seeing Amadeus read his move perfectly, Akutsu knew his current level of Eighth Consciousness had been cracked. Just as he tried to increase its intensity, the ball came flying toward him from an impossible angle. He missed the interception by a fraction.
"15–0!"
"Tch… what the hell did that bastard just do?" Akutsu muttered, glaring at the ball that had just zipped past him.
Without realizing it, the rhythm of the match had fallen back under Amadeus's control. Akutsu stubbornly tried to use Eighth Consciousness again to confuse him, but it was useless now—he kept losing points in unexpected ways.
"30–0!"
Akutsu clicked his tongue and immediately raised the intensity of Eighth Consciousness. Seven silhouettes appeared across the court this time. Amadeus didn't look surprised—he had expected it.
"30–15!"
"30–30!"
With seven overlapping stances, Akutsu clawed back two points. But from Amadeus's calm expression, it was clear he had already begun to see through this new pattern as well. Sure enough, during the fifth rally, he returned Akutsu's illusionary strike cleanly.
"40–30!"
"Game! Switzerland! 3–3!"
"Akutsu's movements look off," Atobe said suddenly from the Japan bench, his sharp eyes fixed on Akutsu's every move.
"When do that guy's movements not look off?" Toono muttered beside him, thinking Atobe's comment was obvious.
"No, that's not it," Irie interrupted, his tone calm but serious. "Akutsu's movements have always been strange, yeah—but they've always had a certain flow to them. Just now, every time he lost a point, there was a clear stiffness in his form."
"The opponent must've exploited Akutsu's hitting habits," Tezuka said quietly, breaking his usual silence.
"I see… a completely different way to attack, huh," Yukimura murmured in realization, understanding what Tezuka meant.
The others still looked confused. Even Oni and Byoudouin were frowning, trying to piece it together.
"Because of his extraordinary physical talent, Akutsu can forcibly reach balls that normal people can't even touch," Akashi finally explained, seeing everyone's attention shift toward him. "Over time, he developed a habit—he only moves after clearly seeing the ball's trajectory. And Amadeus is using that against him."
"In simple terms," Tezuka added, following Akashi's point, "most of us act based on prediction before the shot. Akutsu does predict, but he relies more on his explosive power to forcibly intercept. That's a playing style only he can manage."
After hearing both Akashi and Tezuka's explanation, the others finally understood the problem and turned their attention back to the court—just as Akutsu began to unleash his full power.
"40–15!"
In an instant, Akutsu manifested eight different attacking stances. This level of Eighth Consciousness was enough to put enormous pressure even on Amadeus. Reading through seven false images in a split second was nearly impossible.
Eight was Akutsu's limit under normal conditions. Any more would put too much strain on his ankles. It wouldn't injure him yet, but it would definitely affect his performance.
So unless absolutely necessary, Akutsu wouldn't push further. Now it was up to Amadeus—whether he could see through all of the feints in time. Judging by the results, he clearly couldn't.
"Game! Japan! 4–3!"
"Akutsu-kid, watch how long you stay in Divine Path of the Asura," Coach Mifune warned during the break. "Too much negative emotion will mess with your judgment—and stop trying to brute-force everything with your body."
"Quit nagging. I know what I'm doing," Akutsu grumbled impatiently, but the next moment, he withdrew from his Asura state.
Mifune just smirked. He'd long gotten used to Akutsu's attitude. What mattered was that Akutsu actually listened—and nothing was more important than winning.
When play resumed, Amadeus began to regain control. Without the Asura boost, even Akutsu's powerful Glowing Shots couldn't break his rhythm.
"Game! Switzerland! 4–4!"
"Game! Switzerland! 5–4! Change sides!"
After dropping two consecutive games, Akutsu finally lost his patience. He reactivated Divine Path of the Asura, and this time, even his Beast Aura flared to life. His energy spiked sharply, enough to suppress Amadeus's momentum.
As Akutsu's power surged, the match turned once again. Facing eight simultaneous attacking forms, even Amadeus began to struggle. He focused intensely, trying to see through every illusion, but the speed and ferocity were overwhelming.
"Game! Japan! 5–5!"
"Game! Japan! 6–5!"
But predicting that final stance proved harder than Amadeus expected. Twice in a row, he fell short—each time missing by just one step, forced to gamble on instinct. Unfortunately for him, Lady Luck wasn't on his side today.
Now back on the bench, Amadeus sat with his eyes closed, mentally replaying every moment of the previous games, searching for even the slightest opening in Akutsu's patterns.
When the referee called for the end of the break, Amadeus opened his eyes sharply. His expression was as calm as ever—but deep within, a flicker of excitement burned.