Blue Lock - Conqueror!

As Isagi, Nagi, Kurona, Rin, and Reo made their way through the dimly lit tunnel, the air buzzed with a mix of anticipation and tension. The weight of their recent victory in the Fourth Stage hung heavy yet exhilarating. Each step echoed faintly against the walls, a reminder of how far they had come.

Suddenly, the tunnel widened into a room where a massive screen flickered to life. Ego's familiar, calculating face appeared, his sharp eyes glinting with their usual unnerving precision.

"Hello there, lumps of talent" 

Ego's voice rang out, crisp and biting, his words carrying the authority of someone who held all the answers.

The team halted, their attention riveted on the screen.

"Now then" 

Ego continued,

"All of you have successfully cleared the Second Selection. You've utilized your skills and your teammates' to their utmost potential. You've learned the principle behind producing chemical reactions—a vital lesson in the art of soccer evolution."

His expression turned sharper, more intense.

"Next is the Third Selection. As promised, it's a training program with the World's Top Players. This is where you'll truly be tested."

The screen shifted, revealing a group of five imposing figures. Each one exuded an air of untouchable prowess. Their relaxed yet confident postures told of countless battles fought and won on the world's grandest stages.

Ego's voice interjected again. 

"How about a five-on-five match against these guys? Get ready, you caged frogs. It's time to learn about the world."

The World 5 players' names appeared on the screen, one by one:

--Leonardo Luna (Spain)

--Adam Blake (England)

--Pablo Cabassos (Argentina)

--Dada Silva (Brazil)

--Julian Loki (France)

Each name was a beacon of excellence, representing a country where soccer was akin to a religion.

In their designated Five-Man room, Isagi's team sat around, their eyes glued to Nagi's mobile screen displaying highlights of the World 5. Reo, Nagi, and Kurona analyzed the players, each bringing their unique perspective to the table.

"Look at his footwork" 

Reo muttered, pointing to Julian Loki's clip. 

"It's so precise, yet unpredictable."

"That shot" 

Kurona added, eyes wide as Dada Silva's goal played out. 

"The power behind it——it's insane."

"Yeah" 

Nagi chimed in lazily, though his usual indifference was tinged with intrigue. 

"These guys are on a whole different level."

After a few moments, Reo glanced around, his brow furrowing. 

"Where are Isagi and Rin?"

"They went for their training" 

Nagi replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

In separate, secluded training rooms, Isagi and Rin were preparing in their own ways.

Isagi sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed in deep meditation. The dim light of the room bathed his face in a serene glow. His mind raced through scenarios, imagining himself on the field against the World 5. He visualized their movements, their attacks, their sheer dominance. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, a fire ignited within him.

He clenched his fists, his breath steadying. He had seen the level of those players— World-Class. But he wasn't going to back down.

Once they were done with their training, they went back to their room to rest as tomorrow will be the match against the World 5.

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Third Selection Battlefield

Isagi and his teammates followed closely, their footsteps echoing as they entered the battlefield. The air was thick with tension, anticipation crackling like static electricity. Across from them, the World 5 turned to face them, their eyes sharp and scrutinizing.

Adam Blake and Dada Silva, standing at the forefront, exchanged a smirk before breaking into a low conversation in English. Their words carried just enough volume to reach Isagi and Rin, the only two on their side who could fully understand them.

The mocking tone was unmistakable.

"Pathetic" 

Dada replied with a scoff.

Isagi, as always, remained unbothered. The words slid off him like water, his focus unshaken. But beside him, Rin wasn't as composed. His jaw tightened, his fists clenched, and his eyes blazed with fury.

Unable to hold back, Rin stormed forward, his voice cutting through the tense air like a blade.

"I'll beat you so bad" 

Rin snarled, his tone venomous.

"The mere thought of Japan will give you PTSD."

The declaration was fierce and unyielding. It was the kind of thing only Rin could say with such conviction, and it carried an undeniable weight.

But Isagi wasn't interested in indulging this argument. His sharp eyes caught sight of Leonardo Luna moving toward them, clearly intending to mediate before things escalated further.

Before Luna could act, however, Isagi stepped in.

In one swift motion, he reached out and grabbed Rin by the collar. Without hesitation, he yanked Rin backward with enough force to pull him off balance. The sight was almost cartoonish——Rin flailing slightly as Isagi dragged him back like an unruly pet.

Turning to Dada Silva and Adam Blake, Isagi offered them an easy, almost disarming smile. His tone was light, playful even, as he spoke.

"Sorry about that" 

He said, his voice carrying an air of mock apology. 

"Our dog's a bit aggressive sometimes."

The jab was subtle but effective.

Luna chuckled, but Silva's smile faltered, his irritation bubbling to the surface. He didn't like Isagi's calm demeanor—the way his words seemed to defuse the tension while maintaining a sense of control.

"Well, someone gets it" 

Silva said with a sneer. 

"Knowing your place is always better."

But Isagi didn't even look at him. Instead, his focus remained on Rin, who was now twisting free of his grip and attacking him—not with malice, but with frustration.

"What the hell was that for?!" 

Rin barked, swiping at Isagi's arm with exaggerated motions.

The scene shifted into something absurdly comical. Rin's fiery outbursts clashed hilariously with Isagi's unshaken composure. Luna, standing off to the side, couldn't help but chuckle softly at the ridiculousness of it all.

Silva, however, found no humor in the moment. His narrowed eyes burned with irritation, his attempts to provoke Isagi having failed spectacularly.

Luna observed the unfolding moment with a discerning eye, his expression betraying mild disdain. Something about the quiet confidence radiating from Isagi didn't sit well with him. With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he decided to speak.

"I think it's really interesting" 

Luna began, his tone light but laced with subtle derision. 

"This project to make Japanese football the best in the world." 

He paused for dramatic effect, his smirk widening. 

"I mean, there's probably a higher chance of someone from Spain becoming the world's best sumo wrestler. So, it's quite... amusing to see Japan pouring so much money into this gamble."

The words hung in the air like a taunt, and Rin's sharp glare was instant. His fists clenched, and his posture stiffened, but before he could retaliate, Isagi stepped in.

"What a crappy adult" 

Isagi said, his voice calm yet cutting. He flashed a smile that was far from friendly. 

"Get into position already. We don't have all day to chat, you know."

The casual delivery of the insult caught Luna off guard, his smirk faltering slightly. Isagi, meanwhile, moved to the kickoff spot, setting the ball down with deliberate precision.

"Huh? No, sorry!" 

Luna exclaimed, his voice rising defensively. 

"I was actually trying to praise you guys. Gambling your lives o—"

"Do you have a hearing disability?" 

Isagi interrupted smoothly, his smile sharpening into something almost predatory. He placed a firm foot on the ball and glanced up, his gaze unwavering. 

"Get into position."

The words, though spoken with a smile, carried a quiet menace that was hard to ignore. The subtle shift in Isagi's demeanor was enough to galvanize his teammates, who moved into their positions without hesitation.

"Is—" 

Luna started again, his irritation bubbling to the surface. Luna bristled, clearly unused to being spoken to like this. His smile strained as he prepared to retaliate, but before he could, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

"You're being rude, Luna" 

Julian Loki interjected, his tone polite but pointed, his presence instantly diffusing the brewing tension.

Luna hesitated, glancing back at Loki. A brief, quiet exchange passed between them, too soft for others to overhear. Whatever Loki said seemed to settle the matter, as Luna stepped back, his frustration evident but contained.

Turning to Isagi, Loki offered a small nod of acknowledgment. 

"Apologies for the interruption."

Isagi's smile shifted to one of genuine politeness, his earlier edge now tempered. 

"No problem" 

He replied smoothly, stepping back to focus on the kickoff.

As the players took their positions, a silent intensity settled over the field. Despite Luna's attempts to undermine him, Isagi's calm dominance had subtly shifted the balance of power, leaving no doubt that he wasn't one to be easily shaken.

With the announcement of the Third Selection, the anticipation was electrifying. The referee's whistle echoed across the field, signaling the start of the game. Isagi initiated the play, sending the ball to Rin.

Rin moved forward with controlled aggression, weaving his way through the opposition. His focus remained sharp until Pablo stepped in front of him, cutting off his path with an air of calm confidence. Pablo didn't even flinch—his stance conveyed that he didn't see Rin as a threat.

Rin, unfazed by the silent provocation, didn't try to force his way through. Instead, he played a clever pass to his right, sending the ball ahead into open space. It was Isagi who received it, perfectly positioned to continue the attack.

With the ball at his feet, Isagi surged forward, his eyes fixed on the goal ahead. His pace was relentless, and just as he gained momentum, Luna appeared in front of him, cutting off his advance.

Isagi's eyes gleamed with determination. He'd been waiting for a moment like this—a chance to test something new, to push his limits.

"So, are you not the talking type?"

Luna's voice carried a faint trace of curiosity as he strode closer, his every step deliberate and measured. For Luna, the match ahead promised to be dull—a lopsided game where he could toy with his opponent. But there was something intriguing about Isagi's calm demeanor that piqued his interest. He leaned in slightly, his sharp gaze assessing the boy before him, seeking a crack in the armor of composure.

Isagi tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. His dark eyes held a quiet fire, one that flickered between amusement and something more menacing.

"..Hmm, no" 

Isagi finally replied, his voice low but steady. 

"I'm more of a short-tempered guy, actually. It's just... I'd rather not kick off my football career against world-class players by breaking someone's nose."

The words dripped with a mixture of playful menace and restrained aggression, his smile teetering dangerously on the edge of a threat. It was a smile that promised chaos if provoked, and Luna felt a jolt of excitement ripple through him.

There it was—the spark. Confidence. Luna's lips curled into a grin, his interest fully captured. The boy standing before him wasn't just talk; he was exuding a quiet assurance that Luna couldn't ignore.

'Good'

Luna thought, savoring the challenge. The higher this Isagi climbed, the sweeter it would be to crush him completely. He imagined shattering that steadfast confidence, tearing it apart on the field until there was nothing left but the stark realization of his superiority.

Luna's fingers flexed slightly, his excitement barely restrained. 

"Interesting" 

He muttered under his breath, the word more for himself than for Isagi.

And Luna couldn't wait to see how far he'd have to push before that smile of Isagi's finally broke.

Isagi's legs began to blur with speed. He moved the ball with precision and agility, his rapid touches almost impossible to track. Controlling the ball at such a pace was nearly unthinkable, a feat that required both immense skill and unshakable confidence. Yet, Isagi performed it effortlessly, his movements fluid and deliberate.

Luna's focus sharpened, his mind racing to read Isagi's next move. Suddenly, Isagi flicked the ball subtly, drawing Luna into action. Luna, anticipating the play, stepped in to close the gap and intercept.

But Isagi was one step ahead. In a split second, he slammed the ball against the ground, executing a perfectly timed nutmeg. The ball shot cleanly between Luna's legs, leaving him momentarily frozen.

It was a move Isagi had borrowed from Bachira, yet his execution was flawless—more precise, more calculated.

Luna's expression flickered with surprise and curiosity. There was something unusual about Isagi's play; it wasn't just skillful—it was intentional. Luna could feel it: Isagi wasn't just playing; he was evolving.

Meanwhile, Isagi didn't waste a moment. He bolted ahead with everything he had, his pace unrelenting. As soon as he reached a range he deemed suitable, he planted his foot and struck the ball with precision.

The shot was from well outside the box, an audacious attempt for most players—but not for Isagi. The ball soared through the air in a perfect arc, curving gracefully before slamming into the top corner of the net.

Opening the score sheet by that goal, 1-0

Luna, still standing in place, stared after Isagi with a mix of astonishment and intrigue. This wasn't just talent—it was a calculated brilliance, a style of play that demanded attention.

Isagi turned back toward the field, his expression calm but his eyes burning with quiet intensity. The message was clear: this was just the beginning.

"Not bad" 

Pablo remarked, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Guess we need to actually play some football now" 

Silva added, stretching nonchalantly as if the game had only just begun for them.

"That was quite decent" 

Loki made the comment, this one tinged with mild approval. The praise, though faint, carried a weight that hinted at the level of expectation they held for the match.

The scoreboard glowed, declaring the 1-0 lead, and both teams quickly reset their formations. The World 5 players moved with the calm assurance of seasoned professionals, their confidence practically radiating off them as they took their positions.

Luna stood at the center, the ball at his feet, his sharp eyes scanning the field. He gave a quick nod to Loki before delivering a smooth pass back to him. Loki, without hesitation, began his charge.

Isagi's gaze locked onto Loki immediately, his focus narrowing like a sniper honing in on a target.

Loki's movements were electrifying. The ball seemed to cling to his feet as he sprinted forward, weaving through the opposition like a fish darting through water. His speed was astonishing—explosive and relentless.

But as he approached Isagi, something made him pause for the briefest of moments.

'His posture…' 

Loki noted silently, his sharp eyes studying Isagi's stance. The defensive positioning was impeccable—calm, steady, and without an obvious flaw. There were no reckless lunges or unnecessary movements. Every muscle in Isagi's body seemed to convey one message: I'm ready.

It was the kind of posture Loki recognized, the kind seasoned defenders displayed after years of high-level experience. And yet, here it was, embodied by someone who wasn't a defender by trade.

'Interesting' 

Loki thought, a small grin forming.

The brief flicker of respect was genuine, but it didn't last long. Loki's confidence didn't waver. He knew that even the most solid defense could be broken with the right tool, and for him, that tool was speed.

He adjusted his stride, leaning forward to accelerate even more. His body became a blur, his pace forcing a split-second decision from Isagi. Loki's plan was simple: force an opening, exploit it, and leave his opponent in the dust.

But as he closed in, Isagi's steady posture didn't falter.

'Let's see if you can keep up' 

Loki thought, the thrill of the challenge sparking in his chest as he prepared to take on Isagi head-on.

The moment Loki moved, it was as if the air itself shifted. His speed was blinding, a blur that left Isagi momentarily frozen in place. Isagi's stance was textbook-perfect, his focus unyielding, but tracking Loki's movements felt like chasing a phantom. It wasn't just speed—it was precision, fluidity, and an almost otherworldly control.

On sheer instinct, Isagi lunged, stretching to intercept the ball as Loki breezed past him. For a brief moment, hope flickered in Isagi's chest, but it was snuffed out just as quickly. Loki's acceleration was monstrous, a level beyond anything Isagi had encountered. The ball remained securely tethered to Loki's feet, as if it were an extension of his body.

Loki darted ahead, weaving through defenders like water slipping through fingers. Nagi stepped forward, his towering presence usually enough to stifle any attack. But Loki sidestepped him with a flick of his ankle, barely breaking stride. Reo tried to box him in, his tactical mind calculating angles to force a turnover, but Loki danced past him effortlessly.

By the time Rin adjusted his positioning, analyzing Loki's trajectory, Loki had already anticipated the challenge. Rin lunged for an interception, but Loki shifted gears, his speed spiking once more. It was as if he had reserves of energy no one else could fathom.

Near the box, Loki's movements became sharper, more deliberate. His footwork was mesmerizing, the ball glued to him despite the impossible turns he executed. With a final burst of power, Loki unleashed a shot—a cannonball that ripped through the air and slammed into the back of the net.

The goal was stunning, but the ease with which it was executed was even more staggering. The World Five weren't pushing themselves, not truly. For them, this was a casual demonstration of superiority against a group of spirited but inexperienced kids.

Yet Loki was also 17. The difference was that his skillset was something out of a dream—or perhaps a nightmare for his opponents. His ability to maintain speed through turns, his flawless ball control, and his exquisite footwork set him leagues apart.

"What an explosive acceleration!"

Kurona's eyes widened in disbelief. He prided himself on his speed, but Loki was operating on an entirely different plane. His movements were fluid yet sharp, and his acceleration was nothing short of otherworldly. It wasn't just raw talent—it was a God-given gift, a phenomenon that could only be described as Godspeed.

"Just give me the ball" 

Isagi called, his voice cutting through the moment with calm authority.

Without hesitation, Rin restarted the play, sending a crisp pass to Isagi. The instant the ball reached him, Isagi surged forward, intent on creating something against the wall of World-Class players ahead.

This time, Loki was waiting for him, his imposing figure a daunting presence. Yet Isagi's focus remained unshaken. From his left, Luna closed in, his intent clear as he aimed to steal the ball.

But Isagi was unbothered. He wasn't looking up to these players, their reputations as untouchable elites holding no weight in his mind. He saw them not as icons, but as opponents—challenges he was fully capable of overcoming.

With an almost casual brilliance, Isagi executed his move. His eyes stayed locked forward, never glancing at either Loki or Luna. Planting his left foot ahead, he used the heel of his right foot to flick the ball sharply to his left, behind him.

The motion was sudden, sharp, and precise. Luna, already mid-movement to intercept, found himself completely outmaneuvered. The ball slipped through his legs in a perfectly executed nutmeg.

"Your legs are wide open, Luna" 

Isagi's voice was faint but clear, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he passed Luna effortlessly. The words weren't just a taunt; they were a challenge, a subtle but deliberate jab at the player who wanted to taunt them. The tone was calm, almost too calm, yet loud enough for both Luna and Loki to hear as he moved past them.

But Isagi didn't slow down. Instead, he immediately surged forward, his focus on the loose ball ahead. As he sprinted, Loki, sensing the shift, quickly adjusted his path to intercept the ball. 

Yet, Isagi's composure caught Loki off guard. Most players would have been flustered—facing such world-class opponents would unnerve anyone, but Isagi? He seemed unaffected, as if this were just another training session against players no better than those he'd faced before. His calmness was unnerving, almost as if he had no respect for the caliber of his opponents, treating them like mere stepping stones.

Loki, intrigued by Isagi's confidence, picked up the pace, positioning himself ahead of Isagi. But the moment he moved, Isagi's head remained eerily still, his eyes scanning the field like a hawk. Every movement, every shift in position was mapped out in his mind, a vision of the entire game unfolding before him.

With a sudden, fluid motion, Isagi struck the ball with his left leg. It wasn't a powerful shot, but it was precise. The ball zipped between Loki and Luna with such accuracy that neither of them had a chance to react. It was as though the ball itself knew where it needed to go. The pass was perfect, and it found its destination—Rin, waiting on the right wing, ready to receive the ball.

Rin was still reeling from the sheer audacity of the previous goal from Loki. But now, he had to focus on the present.

When Isagi had faced off against Loki earlier, Rin had made a silent bet with himself: that somehow, Isagi would find a way through. Whether by outsmarting them or delivering the perfect pass, Rin trusted Isagi to make it happen. And Isagi delivered. Threading through the narrowest gap with ease.

The pass didn't just stun Rin; it left everyone momentarily speechless. The precision, the vision—it was unparalleled. Among them, the most surprised was Pablo. He had always considered himself a master of passing and vision, but Isagi's play had matched him, perhaps even rivaled him. It wasn't just talent—it was instinct, a profound understanding of the game.

With the ball now at his feet, Rin wasted no time.

As Rin was about to start his run, Pablo started to chase him, Rin noticed it when he received the pass. 

Pablo surged forward, almost reaching Rin. The tension was palpable as Rin's sharp eyes caught the movement, his mind racing with possibilities. But before he could act, Adam darted ahead, cutting off any chance Rin had to maneuver.

Rin gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling under his calm exterior. He wanted to push through, to challenge them head-on, but logic clawed at his resolve. These weren't just players; they were titans—World-Class athletes whose skills eclipsed anything he had faced before. Charging recklessly past them wasn't an option, and he knew it.

His gaze shifted, locking onto Isagi sprinting toward the penalty box. In that moment, Rin made his decision. A calculated choice. A sharp exhale escaped him as he drove his foot into the ball, sending a precise through pass slicing through the air ahead of Isagi.

The ball soared with a perfect arc, spinning as though carrying Rin's intent within it. Isagi's eyes locked on its trajectory, his body already in motion. He sprinted toward the endpoint, his instincts and spatial awareness guiding him. The ball hung in the air for a split second longer, enough time for a voice to shatter the focused silence around him.

"You're interesting, runt!"

The voice was sharp, almost playful, cutting through the tension like a blade. Isagi's eyes darted left, momentarily breaking his focus. There he was—Dada Silva. The imposing figure of the World-Class player had appeared beside him like a shadow.

Dada wasn't here to defend out of duty; no, this was personal. The Brazilian's amused grin betrayed his intent. Isagi had dared to humiliate Luna not once but twice with nutmegs, and that audacity had sparked Dada's interest. Now, as Isagi charged toward the goal with unyielding determination, Dada Silva saw an opportunity—not just to stop the young player but to humiliate him in return.

Isagi could feel the weight of the challenge radiating from Silva, but his resolve didn't waver. He understood the condescension in Dada's tone, the underestimation. It wasn't the first time someone had looked down on him. His calm composure remained unbroken, his mind calculating the defender's movements and the ball's descent simultaneously.

Silva wasted no time, his towering frame closing the gap as he shouldered Isagi with calculated force. The impact was jarring, sending a ripple through Isagi's balance. He stumbled slightly, his feet skidding on the grass, but his recovery was almost immediate.

"Not bad, kid,"

Silva muttered under his breath, pressing harder. His physical presence was overwhelming, each movement radiating power and dominance. Silva was confident that his strength would break the younger player.

But then, something unexpected happened.

"Huh…?" 

Silva's eyes narrowed as confusion flickered across his face.

Despite the crushing pressure, Isagi adapted. His movements, initially strained, began to synchronize with Silva's. It wasn't just resistance—it was a pushback. Isagi's lithe frame seemed to defy logic, countering Silva's dominance with a determination that felt unnatural for someone his age and size.

The realization hit Silva like a second blow. 

'This kid isn't just keeping up—he's pushing me.'

Silva's mind raced to rationalize what was happening. Isagi's build was impressive, sure, but nowhere near the level needed to challenge someone like him in physicality. Yet here they were, neck and neck, with Isagi refusing to yield.

The pressure mounted, but Silva's focus wavered. His attention, pulled between disbelief and the fierce contest, failed to register one crucial detail: they had reached the ball.

Before Silva could react, Isagi's foot connected with the ball. There was no hesitation, no need to trap it. The strike was swift and precise, sending the ball rocketing toward the goal.

The world seemed to hold its breath as the ball sliced through the air. The Blue-Lock Man dived, but it was too late. The net rippled as the ball smashed into its depths.

Goal!

The scoreboard shifted: Blue-Lock Team 2 – 1 World 5 Team.

Isagi turned, his expression calm yet fierce, the weight of his performance reflected in his steady gaze. He didn't pause to bask in the moment or wait for applause. Instead, he began jogging back to his half, his focus already shifting to the next phase of the game.

As he moved, the stadium's energy seemed to center on him. Eyes followed his every step—teammates, opponents, and 1 spectator—all captivated by the feat they had just witnessed.

Silva, still rooted near the goal, watched him with a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

Isagi's thoughts were sharp and focused, his mind dissecting the next moves.

'It won't work just like this. I've got to set up more tactics for the game from here on.'

His resolve burned brighter, the fire of ambition refusing to dim.

The stage was set for the next act.

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[A/N]: Happy New Year, Everyone!

I hope you all had a fantastic start to the year!

I'm here to share a quick update: the chapters will be published a little later than usual moving forward, as I'll be focusing on my studies. However, to make up for the delay, I'll be increasing the word count in each chapter, so you'll get even more content to enjoy!

Thank you for your understanding and continued support. I hope you enjoy the story as it unfolds!

Stay tuned, and here's to an exciting journey ahead!