Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 197: Chapter 7: Irie Reveals a Glimpse of His True Strength

Just as Ryōma stood there in a daze, unsure what to say, a faint purple glow suddenly flared around Irie on the opposite side, instantly dispersing the light of Ryōma’s Ten’i.

”From now on, you won’t score a single point, Echizen Ryōma!” Irie’s voice carried an icy chill.

”Ah~ man, that guy Irie even activated Path of Asura... this is seriously getting out of hand,” Tanegashima muttered, rubbing his forehead.

”But Ryōma’s seen Path of Asura before, right? So maybe... it won’t be too bad?” Ōishi added, though his tone clearly lacked confidence.

Oni couldn’t watch any longer. Irie was obviously losing control, and he was just about to step onto the court with his racket when Akashi suddenly spoke up, voice cold and firm.

”Stand down, Oni. Irie’s just putting on a performance for Echizen Ryōma.”

Hearing that, Oni’s pupils contracted. He shifted his focus to Irie’s expression. Because Oni had spent more time with Irie than anyone else—more even than Tanegashima, who went to the same school—it didn’t take long for him to catch something subtle.

”Sorry, Akashi. I got a little too concerned and lost my cool,” Oni admitted after confirming Irie wasn’t about to seriously injure Ryōma.

Ever since Oni learned of Akashi’s intentions, he’d unconsciously begun to fall into step behind him. Irie was the same. After witnessing Akashi’s true power, they both genuinely acknowledged him.

”Don’t you think it’s a little early to be saying stuff like that, Irie-senpai?” Ryōma still didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he wasn’t about to back down verbally.

He tossed the tennis ball high and the glow of Ten’i around him burned even brighter. Then, with a full swing, he launched a blazing fast serve—maybe even faster than the last.

But in the very next moment, the sounds of racket and ball striking the ground blended together. Ryōma’s cap flew high into the air, and his dark green hair rippled in the breeze.

”15-15!”

Most of the players watching didn’t even catch what had happened. Only Akashi and Atobe caught a brief flicker of dark light flashing in front of Irie. Oni and Tanegashima, familiar with Irie, had a good guess what he’d just done.

”What? You’re stunned already? Don’t just stand there! Serve, Echizen!” Irie’s tone was flat and emotionless.

Snapping out of it, Ryōma returned to himself. He still didn’t know what had just happened—only that everything had gone dark for a second and the point was gone. He hadn’t even seen Irie’s return.

’So this is the real strength of a Court 3 player? Looks like coming to this training camp was the right call.’ Ryōma didn’t hesitate. Once again, he smashed a high-speed serve with full focus and energy.

But this time, Irie simply shifted and met the ball at its landing point, returning it cleanly. Ryōma rushed forward without a second thought and the two locked into a fierce rally.

With Path of Asura enhancing him, Irie ignored the glow of Ten’i completely. On top of that, his base strength far outclassed Ryōma’s. In just a few exchanges, Ryōma slipped behind, got caught in a trap, and lost the point.

”15-30!”

Still, Ryōma didn’t show a hint of discouragement. In Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami, his mindset had improved drastically—he wouldn’t despair even with a huge power gap. He fired another high-speed serve with full force.

But again, just like before, the moment the ball bounced off the ground, a dark glow swallowed it. A second later, Ryōma heard the sound of the ball hitting the court behind him.

”15-40!”

”What was that just now? It felt like I saw endless darkness...” Ryōma muttered to himself, visibly shaken.

”I told you. You won’t score again. Every ball you hit will be swallowed. Echizen Ryōma,” Irie said flatly, watching him.

”Swallowed by darkness, huh? Interesting. But I wonder, senpai—can you swallow light too?” A fierce, confident glint returned to Ryōma’s eyes.

Suddenly, a brilliant golden light burst from Ryōma’s right hand. Many of the high schoolers watching immediately pictured a terrifying figure in their minds. Ryōma tossed the ball into the air, and with a fierce swing from his left, it became a giant sphere of light hurtling toward Irie.

”Glowing Shot!”

The tennis ball slammed into the court with immense force, forming a dent on impact before springing up and shooting toward Irie, its golden glow still dazzling.

Just then, a circular void appeared in front of Irie, as dark as the starless sky. The surrounding air twisted and warped. When the ball hit it, it froze in midair. Bit by bit, the golden light was swallowed until it vanished completely. The next second, the ball dropped by Ryōma’s feet and bounced out of bounds.

”Black Hole!”

Dimensional Technique—Black Hole

”Game! Irie Kanata! 6-5!”

”When did the little guy learn Glowing Shot?! We didn’t know a thing!” Kikumaru exclaimed from the sidelines, eyes wide in disbelief.

”I’m more curious about Irie-senpai’s move data than Ryōma’s Glowing Shot,” Inui’s glasses flashed with excitement.

”Glowing Shot... Byōdōin! Just wait!” Tokugawa clenched his fists, the image of Byōdōin burning in his mind after seeing Ryōma’s move.

”Wasn’t that the captain’s Glowing Shot just now? Can’t believe another first-year’s pulling it off!” a third-year muttered, visibly impressed.

”Yeah, aside from Akashi and Akutsu, this kid’s definitely the next genius! What’s going on with the junior scene these last few years?” another third-year chimed in.

For the first time, Ryōma truly felt pressure. Glowing Shot was his trump card, something he’d worked hard to master. Yet the moment he used it in a real match, Irie shut it down easily—almost too easily.

”Don’t think learning Glowing Shot makes you some kind of big shot. There are more people who can block that move than you can count on both hands. If that was your final card, I suggest you give up now, Echizen,” Irie said calmly after taking the eleventh game. Even the sweat from earlier had mysteriously vanished from his face.

”Hmph. Mada mada da ne!” Ryōma snapped back, refusing to back down. He jogged to the baseline, bent low, and readied himself. He clearly had no intention of surrendering.

”Ara~ what an unlovable kouhai. Fine, then—I’ll crush you myself,” Irie said with a cold smile, stepping to the service line.

Game twelve was Irie’s service game. He casually tossed the ball and sent out a simple high-speed serve. Ryōma, unconvinced, gathered another burst of golden light in his right hand.

A moment later, the golden ball rocketed toward Irie, but as it crossed the net, another black hole appeared and froze it midair again. The twisting force of the void swallowed the light just like before. Irie then casually swatted the ball with a light swing, and it zipped right between Ryōma’s legs.

”15-0!”

”It’s pointless. No technique can escape the black hole’s pull,” Irie’s voice drifted across the court.

While Ryōma was still stunned by the black hole’s effect, Irie served again—another plain-looking high-speed serve. But this time Ryōma didn’t take it lightly. He quickly rushed to the landing point and used a two-handed swing to smash the ball back.

The ball shot over the net like a beam of light, aiming for the back right corner of Irie’s side. Irie slid into position and intercepted it. Then a cold gleam flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, sheets of ice formed around Ryōma, and in a blink, he was completely frozen in place.

”Ice Bind!”

A crack rang out as the ice shattered, freeing Ryōma, but the ball had already flown past him and landed out of bounds. Ryōma looked up at Irie, shocked. The sensation was completely different from Atobe’s World of Ice.

”30-0!”

”You’re so fixated on my black hole, you’re not even noticing the flaws in your own movements. Echizen,” Irie said calmly after scoring.