"We won!!!"
Every Seidō player raised a finger to the sky.
No words were needed. Their hearts were already roaring with joy.
The commentator, usually composed, found his voice trembling, eyes misting over.
"These kids… they're too moving!"
Before today, his impression of Seidō had been average. A strong school, yes, but one that had stumbled for years. This final was supposed to be just another step in his career. Nothing more.
But after what he had witnessed… Seidō was unforgettable.
Facing one of their fiercest rivals, Ichidai Third, they showed overwhelming dominance.
No mercy. No hesitation.
A complete and utter victory.
Compared to their semifinal clash against Inashiro, the strength they displayed today was terrifying. Many expected another fierce, neck-and-neck battle between giants. Some even predicted Seidō would stumble—after all, their tactics were exposed, Zhou Hao's straight ball already studied, and Chris injured.
The odds were stacked against them.
And yet…
The game ended 12–1.
Led by Zhou Hao, every Seidō player shone. Each carried their weight, each fought with purpose, and together they crushed one of the three great powerhouses of West Tokyo.
The gesture they made now—pointing to the sky—wasn't just celebration. It was a declaration.
Their slogan had always been clear: "Dominate the Nation."
Many dismissed it as tradition, just another empty cry of spirit. But after today, no one could doubt their resolve.
They weren't satisfied with West Tokyo. Their eyes were already on the national crown.
From this moment on, "King Seidō" was no longer just a chant.
It was reality.
It was inevitability.
On the other side, Ichidai stood in silence.
For the third-years, this was their last summer. Normally, such an ending would bring tears. Even Inashiro's proud players had wept when they fell short.
But Ichidai's veterans did not cry.
Not because the loss didn't hurt—because it hurt too much. Their pride as a national powerhouse could not accept such a crushing defeat. Against Seidō, of all opponents.
Their fists clenched until nails cut into flesh.
"Thank you for the game."
"Thank you for the game!"
They bowed numbly, finished the ritual, and walked off the field.
Coach Tahara could only sigh. His boys had given everything. It wasn't lack of effort, only cruel fate—an opponent too strong, too complete, too unrelenting.
"Get changed. Get ready for interviews," he said quietly.
The celebration party at school would likely be canceled. But life went on. Their journey had ended here.
For Seidō, however, the night was only beginning.
The players erupted in cheers, hugging, crying, laughing—each celebrating in their own way.
"We did it!"
"Koshien!!"
"Director!!"
Coach Kataoka's chest tightened with emotion. For years, failure had weighed heavily on him. Each summer without Koshien gnawed at his confidence.
Had his coaching philosophy been wrong?
Was he the reason Seidō couldn't break through?
But now… now those doubts vanished.
Not only had they won, they had destroyed one of the strongest schools in the country.
This was the dawn of a new era.
King Seidō.
And at the center of it all was Zhou Hao. Kataoka's eyes found him in the celebrating crowd. For years, Seidō lacked a true Ace. Today, their prayers had been answered.
And not just any Ace—a first-year.
A prodigy who could carry them for the next two years.
Seidō's era had begun.
The era of the King.
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