Chapter 280: [280] "NEJI PART 5"

SC Valois attempted to utilize the wings. Sordell received the ball on the left flank, pushing his tired legs to initiate overlapping runs. He was rusty. He had not played competitive minutes in weeks, and the turf of Stade Phocéen was draining his stamina.

He received a pass from Florez, attempted to beat the opposition right-back with pace, but his touch was a bit too heavy. The ball rolled harmlessly over the byline for a goal kick.

Sordell bent over, resting his hands on his knees, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. He was surviving, but his offensive output was severely limited by his conditioning.

On the opposite side, Bachra Goza was experiencing the exact opposite problem. The teenager had endless energy, but the Phocéen defense had adjusted to his explosive acceleration.

Every time Bachra received the ball, the opposing left-back immediately dropped five yards deep, refusing to allow the winger any space to run into behind the defensive line. Bachra was forced to constantly cut inside, carrying the ball into the teeth of the Phocéen midfield, where he was inevitably dispossessed by a swarming double-team.

Luc was operating in a state of continuous tussle.

The two center-backs did not give him a single inch of breathing room. Every time a Valois midfielder looked up, Luc was already engaged. He utilized his upper body strength, fighting for leverage. He absorbed contact and subtle shoves to his lower back that the referee conveniently ignored...in truth, and for now, there was nothing in it.

He possessed the consumables to break the deadlock. The Phantom Step could shatter the ankles of both center-backs in a single motion.

The Absolute Strike could guarantee a goal from anywhere. But deploying his final assets this early in the match, with over forty-five minutes still left to play, was an error he refused to make. He had to endure the punishment of not having much of the ball. He had to wait for the natural flow of the match to present an organic vulnerability.

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Minute thirty-four.

Stade Phocéen established a prolonged period of possession. Neji had abandoned his starting position, dropping deeper into his own half to collect the ball directly from his center-backs.

Klaus did not follow him. The Valois vice-captain held his zone in the midfield, refusing to be dragged out of position.

Neji operated without pressure. He sprayed long, raking diagonal passes to the touchlines, stretching the Valois defensive block horizontally. Gabriel and Florez were forced to sprint continuously out to the chalk, closing down the wingers, only to watch the ball be immediately recycled back to Neji.

The relentless lateral shifting was taking a severe toll on the Valois players.

Cillian was covering massive distances, throwing his body into passes, attempting to compensate for the space Klaus had sacrificed to anchor the center. Hugo was dropping deeper and deeper to assist the defensive effort, leaving Luc isolated up top.

Minute thirty-eight.

The Phocéen left-winger received a diagonal pass. Gabriel charged out to meet him, his legs heavy with fatigue. The winger did not attempt to dribble. He laid the ball backward to his overlapping fullback.

The fullback whipped a high, looping cross into the Valois penalty area.

Amadou Fall tracked the flight of the ball. The Senegalese defender recognized the trajectory. It was floating, hanging in the air for far too long. Amadou took two steps backward, established his footing, and launched himself upward. He beat Fresko to the aerial duel, driving his forehead through the ball and clearing the ball thirty yards out of the box.

The clearance fell to the feet of a Phocéen central midfielder.

The midfielder did not attempt to control the bouncing ball as he struck it first-time, hitting a powerful volley back into the congested penalty area.

The ball struck a wall of bodies, ricocheting dangerously off Hadj’s shin and spinning out toward the left space.

Cillian Doyle was the first to react. The Irishman threw his body across the grass, executing a desperate sliding clearance that sent the ball tumbling out over the touchline for a Phocéen throw-in.

Cillian stayed on the ground for an extra second, dragging oxygen back into his lungs. The defensive siege was suffocating. Phocéen was not creating clear-cut chances, but they were applying a continuous pressure that was slowly fracturing the Valois defensive organization.

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Minute forty-one.

The Phocéen throw-in was taken quickly. The ball circulated through the backline, eventually finding its way back to Neji in the center of the pitch.

Klaus maintained his disciplined stance, hovering eight yards away, keeping his hips square and his eyes locked on the ball.

Neji received the pass. He simply held the ball under his sole, surveying the pitch with cold precision. He was not looking at Klaus. He was looking at the spaces between the Valois defenders.

He was waiting for a mistake or a tiny error in judgement.

Fresko was hovering near the edge of the Valois eighteen-yard box, positioned between Amadou Fall and Hadj. The Phocéen striker had spent the entire half making subtle, testing movements. He would lean into Amadou, feeling the center-back’s leverage, then drift away.

He would step offside for three seconds, forcing Hadj to step up and compress the line, before dropping back into a legal position.

Fresko was mapping the defensive responses of the Valois center-backs.

Neji placed his boot on top of the ball, rolling it slowly backward.

The movement was innocuous. It did not signal an impending attack. It looked like a player preparing to recycle possession back to his own defense.

Cillian Doyle, operating ten yards to Klaus’s left, saw the backward roll. The Irishman, exhausted by the relentless defensive shifting and desperate to alleviate the pressure, read the movement as an opportunity. He believed Neji was resetting the play.

Cillian took a single, heavy step forward, intending to close the passing lane to the Phocéen right-back.

That single step was the trigger.

The exact millisecond Cillian shifted his weight forward was what Neji apparently needed.