"Using overwhelming strength combined with the corrosion of the Radiance of Pain to make your opponent doubt their path in tennis, even stirring up their negative emotions... I have to admit, this move is kind of dangerous," Yukimura said with a smile as he slowly described the general effect of the Radiance of Pain.
The three Light of Pride each have their strengths. The Radiance of Love inspires oneself and those nearby, fueling intense passion for tennis and unleashing one's full potential. The Radiance of Strong Heart gives one the will to fight through adversity and never give up.
The Radiance of Pain, however, amplifies the opponent's inner shadows and negative feelings, significantly weakening their strength—basically an enhanced version of Ten'i's corrosive property.
In the original story, Tezuka first awakened the Radiance of Pain. That's why during the World Cup semifinals, Yukimura was overwhelmed by it, triggering memories of being dominated by Ryōma's Ten'i Muhō no Kiwami in the Nationals, which severely affected his performance.
And just now, during the doubles match between Kintarō and Akutsu, Akutsu had originally planned to hold back, but ultimately unleashed his alternate dimension power due to being affected by the Radiance of Love, fully unleashing his strength.
Even though Rikkai was an opponent, Niō managed to copy Byoudouin and use a weakened version of the Glowing Shot—Destruction, also under the influence of the Radiance of Love. Of course, the biggest impact of that Radiance is the boost it gives the user's own power. That's why Akashi said the Radiance of Love and Radiance of Pain are two extremes.
At that moment, Akashi at the Fudomine coach's bench once again sensed Yukimura's rapidly expanding mental force. It quickly blanketed the entire court, even slightly suppressing the two Radiances surrounding Tezuka. Behind Yukimura, a faint phantom appeared—though only Akashi, with his extraordinary perception, could sense it.
"This is... getting interesting," Akashi said with clear amusement.
Tezuka didn't respond to Yukimura's explanation—no rebuttal, no justification. He just stared seriously at Yukimura, bent forward slightly, and got ready to return serve.
Seeing Tezuka give no reaction, Yukimura chuckled softly, tossed the ball high into the air, and used a perfectly textbook motion to deliver a powerful serve. At the moment of impact, it was as if a divine light shone down on him.
Child of God—Yukimura Seiichi
Tezuka moved quickly to the drop point and returned the serve, the blue tornado swirling tightly around him—he had clearly reactivated the Ultimate Zone. But after eleven intense games, his face was now dripping with sweat.
Yukimura, on the other side, was also soaked in sweat. But neither of them had hit a physical limit yet—thanks to Akashi's specially designed training regime, their stamina was still holding. After all, the World Cup format is best-of-three sets.
Though Yukimura had shaken off the Radiance of Pain's direct effect, he still couldn't fully neutralize the Ultimate Zone spin boosted by two Radiances. Even after returning the shot, the ball remained trapped in the Zone's control, curving right back toward Tezuka.
The two resumed their fast-paced exchange. Tezuka sensed something strange—but when he focused carefully, nothing seemed out of place. He forced the thought down and concentrated on the match in front of him.
Akashi stood with arms folded, watching the court with a sly look in his eyes. Right now, only he knew what Yukimura had really done. That immense mental force might even surpass the likes of Itsuki or Tanegashima.
On court, the rally between Yukimura and Tezuka grew more intense. Though Yukimura gradually matched Tezuka's rhythm, with two Radiances backing him up, Tezuka had already surpassed Yukimura's current level in terms of pure strength.
Sure enough, after more than twenty exchanges, Tezuka caught a small opening and used a Zero Shiki Smash to take the first point of the game. Yukimura could only shake his head helplessly.
"0-15!"
At that moment, Mifune in the stands furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes at Yukimura, the corners of his mouth twitching into a weird grin. He took a swig from his sake gourd and muttered, "Looks like I'm getting old—this brat actually played me. But that's fine. The stronger they are, the better our chances."
Mitsuya gave the head coach a puzzled look, not quite grasping what he meant. But based on the data in his head, something about the match did seem off. He just hadn't figured it out yet.
Back on court, the second rally had begun. This time, Tezuka's mind briefly flashed with an image of himself losing the point—but the dual Radiances quickly dispelled it. Tezuka realized that Yukimura was still trying to seize his future.
Unfortunately, with Tezuka's current strength, finding a gap in a short span was nearly impossible. No matter what offensive patterns Yukimura used, the tennis memory built over the past few exchanges had already lost its effect.
"0-30!"
Sure enough, after another brief deadlock, Tezuka took the second point from Yukimura. This made everyone on the Rikkai bench tense up—Kirihara didn't even dare to breathe.
Yukimura, on the other hand, seemed totally unfazed. He calmly took out another ball, tossed it high, and fired off his third ultra-high-speed serve. The same familiar scene repeated—both sides probed each other with offense and defense.
"0-40!"
Right now, Yukimura's strength really did seem to be just a step below Tezuka's. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through Tezuka's Zone. And as time passed, Tezuka caught a fleeting opening.
The match reached Tezuka's match point. If he won this rally, he would claim victory, and Fudomine would advance to the Nationals finals with a 3-0 sweep over Rikkai.
Even Tezuka couldn't help feeling a ripple of emotion. But the next second, he pushed it down and focused all his attention on Yukimura. He knew better than anyone—you can't let your guard down against Yukimura.
As Yukimura served his fourth ball, the match entered another fierce rally. Maybe because it was the final point, Yukimura's attack was unusually aggressive. He targeted extreme angles, trying to tear through Tezuka's Zone.
But prolonged offense eventually created a gap. Tezuka seized the moment and hit a down-the-line passing shot. The ball blurred into a yellow streak, flying toward Yukimura's backcourt.
Yukimura spun and chased it down, switching the racket to his left hand. He hit a backhand just as the ball crossed the net—but Tezuka was already there at the net, waiting.
Tezuka gently sliced the ball. It floated just over the net, then dropped fast. Yukimura dove forward, but he was too late. The ball spun sharply on landing, then slowly rolled backward.
"Zero Shiki Drop Shot!"
"Game! 7-5! Match over! Winner—Fudomine!"
"Nice one, Tezuka!" Tachibana Kippei shouted from Fudomine's bench.
"Tch. Took you long enough to win," Akutsu muttered, but the faint smirk on his lips gave him away. Classic tsundere.
On Rikkai's side, all the players looked gloomy. Their pride—captain Yukimura—still couldn't win this world-class showdown.
But then, cracks suddenly split open across the sky above the court. The space itself shattered like glass, and the umpire's voice echoed once more.
"Game! Rikkai! 6-6! Proceed to tiebreak!"
"How does it feel? That sweet victory dream—consider it a little gift from me, Tezuka-kun," Yukimura's gentle voice echoed throughout the stadium.
"A dream, huh? But with my current mental state, I shouldn't fall for it that easily... unless..." Tezuka's eyes sharpened like blades as he stared across at Yukimura.
Many in the crowd were already used to this. After all, most of them had seen this kind of dream-space trick two years ago. So Yukimura's illusion didn't cause much panic. Still, a few first-time viewers were clearly experiencing some memory dissonance.
"Tiebreak begins now. First serve by Rikkai's Yukimura Seiichi!"
Yukimura didn't reply. The umpire's voice came first. Seeing that, Yukimura just smiled gently, then turned to the baseline to prepare for the final showdown.
Across the court, Tezuka took a deep breath and adjusted his breathing. The blue Radiance around him seemed to glow a bit brighter, and his eyes never once left Yukimura.
Seeing Tezuka ready, Yukimura didn't hesitate. He tossed the ball and served. The ball cleared the net and flew toward Tezuka's left baseline. Tezuka moved in and swung his racket—then, in the next instant, the entire world turned to nothingness and darkness. His sense of self vanished.
But it only lasted a second. Tezuka quickly snapped out of it. What shocked him was that Yukimura still stood in the exact same pose, ready to serve, and the umpire hadn't called anything.
"What's wrong, Tezuka-kun? Judging by your expression… could it be you just saw something unreal?" Yukimura asked playfully, watching Tezuka's stunned face.