Bluelock x OC:The Oracle's game

Part 10:War rages on

"No way! That was clean!" Bianchi protested, throwing his arms up in disbelief.

But the referee wasn't having it. He pointed to the spot just outside the box—a free kick for Liverpool in a dangerous position.

Liverpool's Free Kick

Zane stood over the ball, his expression calm and focused. Ryusei and Dante lined up in the wall, while the rest of us positioned ourselves to defend the rebound.

"Stay alert! He might not shoot!" Ricci warned, his eyes locked on Zane.

The referee blew the whistle, and Zane began his run-up. Instead of going for goal, he chipped the ball delicately over the wall, aiming for Ryusei, who had peeled off his marker.

"Not today!" Sandro roared, leaping to intercept the ball with a powerful header.

The clearance fell to Enrico, who wasted no time. He turned quickly, spotting Frances making a run down the left wing.

"Go, Frances! Take it!" Enrico shouted, launching a long ball into space.

Frances sprinted down the wing, his pace leaving Hiroshi trailing behind. He controlled the ball with a deft touch, cutting inside as he approached the box. Ivan rushed to close him down, but Frances feinted to the right before darting left, creating just enough space to send in a cross.

The ball soared into the box, where I was waiting at the far post. Lorenzo was on me, his presence imposing, but I didn't back down. Timing my jump perfectly, I rose above him and connected with a powerful header.

The ball rocketed toward the goal, but Elias was there, blocking it with his chest and clearing it out of danger.

The game was turning into a war of attrition. Liverpool pushed forward relentlessly, throwing everything they had at us. Ryusei and Zane were orchestrating their attacks with surgical precision, while Koji and Mateo provided width and pace.

But we held firm. Luca and Bianchi were tireless in midfield, breaking up play and launching counterattacks whenever they could. Marco and Frances tracked back to help, their defensive contributions proving invaluable.

"Hold the line! Just a little longer!" Luka urged, his voice hoarse.

The clock ticked on, each second feeling like an eternity. We knew Liverpool wouldn't stop until the final whistle, but neither would we.

With just under 20 minutes remaining, Liverpool was throwing everything forward. Their passes were crisp, their movements unpredictable, but we weren't about to crumble. The defense, led by Bianchi, was holding strong, but fatigue was setting in. And that's when Raito stepped up.

Liverpool's attack began again with Zane dictating the tempo. He dribbled past Luca, executing a clever double touch to evade Sandro. His vision remained razor-sharp as he spotted Koji cutting inside from the right wing.

"Mark him, Raito!" Bianchi yelled, already dealing with Ryusei and Mateo crashing the box.

Raito, despite looking exhausted, snapped into action. His legs burned, but his determination overpowered the fatigue. As Koji received the ball and tried to shift it past him with his signature move, Raito anticipated it perfectly.

"Not this time, shift-step king!" Raito growled, sliding in with precision. His tackle was clean and fierce, taking the ball off Koji and immediately springing to his feet to recover it.

Koji glared at him, clearly annoyed, but Raito smirked. "Keep dancing; it won't work on me anymore."

Raito didn't stop there. He turned sharply, shielding the ball from an oncoming Mateo, and looked up the pitch. Frances was making another blistering run down the wing, his arm raised, signaling for the pass.