The Court of Penance had never been this loud. Every seat trembled with shouts—half jeers, half disbelief. Ren's chest heaved, his shirt plastered to his back, but he still stood.
The scoreboard glared: 1–4. Still far behind.
Above the crowd, the commentators' booth came alive. Ayaka Kisaragi adjusted her headset, eyes blazing with excitement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, do you see this? Tachibana Ren, the Substitute Messiah, is turning survival into spectacle! Seventy-ball rally—one man against two ranked disciples—and he's still here!"
Cameras whirred, drones zoomed in. Ren's every breath broadcast to thousands across Aurelia.
On the court, his opponents snarled. "He's mocking us."
"End him. Now."
The next rally began. They hammered smashes, volleys, angled drives. Ren absorbed them, step by step, like his body wasn't his own. The Fallen Star racket pulsed with faint light at every impact.
Endless Rally... just one more ball. Then another. Then another.
By the 15th shot, the shorter disciple's wrist faltered. The 16th shot hit the wall wrong. The 17th—a frame miss. The ball died against the net.
2–4.
The arena roared. Not boos—cheers. Real cheers.
"Unbelievable!"
"He's not winning... but he's not losing either!"
"He's making them break!"
Ayaka's voice soared. "Do you hear that? That's the sound of an underdog stealing momentum from giants. They wanted a fraud trial—what they got was a miracle rally!"
In the stands, Haru leapt up, nearly spilling his ramen. "That's my bro!" Maria's grin returned, sharp but proud. Shizuka's eyes narrowed, but her fists clenched in silent support. Mio whispered softly, "That's the Ren I knew."
Ren's knees shook, but he smiled faintly. I'm not just surviving. They're seeing me.
Another rally. Another crack in his opponents' rhythm. His HUD flickered:
[Audience Resonance Detected]
Title Unlocked: "Underdog Messiah"
(Effect: Crowd Support amplifies Mental +2 when cheered.)
The crowd chanted his name, the word rolling like thunder:
"REN! REN! REN!"
The priests shifted uneasily. This wasn't how trials were supposed to sound.
Daigo lit another cigarette in the shadows, hiding a smirk. "Good. Let them choke on their own stage."
Ren standing at the baseline, trembling but alive, his racket glowing faintly as the crowd chants his name—Substitute no longer whispered, but shouted.
Even if I fall here... they'll never erase me.