Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 391: Chapter 70: The Terrifying Dream

When Yukimura landed lightly, the wind fluttered his jacket, drawing a chorus of screams from the girls in the audience. They suddenly realized his looks were no less striking than Timothée’s or Tristan’s.

Omagari stared at Yukimura, unsure what to feel. Even he had been momentarily dazed just now—it was like gazing upon an actual god. He knew Yukimura’s Alternate Dimension was tied to the god of dreams, but witnessing it directly still felt unreal.

When the two returned to the bench, Omagari pushed down that strange feeling. Whatever Yukimura had become, it only made the Japan team stronger, so there was no point in overthinking it.

”Seems like the Greek team’s Olympus Holy Light gave you quite a bit of inspiration~,” Akashi’s calm voice came from behind as Yukimura caught his breath.

”It did spark some ideas, but the one who inspired me first wasn’t the Greek team,” Yukimura replied evenly, his tone composed.

The others on the Japan bench didn’t really understand what they were talking about. Only Coach Mifune narrowed his eyes. He had also sensed that same holy radiance surrounding Yukimura earlier—it was indeed similar to the Olympus Holy Light. But there was one thing he was sure of: the two were fundamentally different.

’To think he could even take hints from a Legendary Radiance... What a terrifying little monster,’ Oni thought silently from the side.

After witnessing Oni’s Legendary Radiance, Yukimura had been analyzing ways to counter it. But he hadn’t reached the Asura Divine Path, nor had he attained Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami, let alone mastered Legendary Radiance. So he chose another route—one only he could walk.

What he had just used was the result of that path. Up until right before the World Cup began, it had only been a half-finished technique. Fortunately, after observing the Greek team’s match not long ago, he found new insight—and today’s game was his first real trial run.

It still needed refinement, but by fusing Zero Senses Tennis, ZONE, and the unique force of his Alternate Dimension, Yukimura had finally shaped the technique’s prototype—and the initial results were promising.

The others didn’t understand what exactly Yukimura had done, but Akashi saw through it immediately. It was divinity—the same essence that had once radiated from Zeus himself. The difference was that Zeus’s divinity was innate, while Yukimura had forged his through sheer fusion of different powers.

’So the title ”Child of God” really wasn’t a mistake after all... You live up to it, Yukimura Seiichi,’ Akashi thought silently, watching him from the bench.

Three minutes later, the second set was about to begin. Yukimura and Omagari exchanged a look and nodded. Taking up their rackets, they stepped back onto the court. Across from them, Tristan and Timothée wore expressions of absolute resolve.

”The second set of Doubles Two begins now! France to serve first!”

Tristan stood at the baseline, drew in a deep breath, and tossed the ball high. With a sharp swing, the serve flew across the court with hidden spin.

Omagari slid smoothly into position, both rackets swinging together toward the rising ball, making it impossible to tell his true contact point. Just before impact, the ball suddenly curved, arcing sharply toward the left corner.

But Omagari was ready. He instantly switched his motion, blocking the ball with his right-hand racket and firing a powerful crosscourt drive. Timothée reacted quickly, stepping forward to intercept. He blocked it at the net, the ball deflecting at a sharp angle.

Yukimura rushed in, half-volleying the ball toward the open space on Timothée’s right. But Timothée, as if anticipating it, spun 180 degrees on the spot and met the ball with a smooth backhand block. The ball struck the ground near the net and shot off the sideline.

”15–0!”

Yukimura frowned slightly, watching the ball roll out. The French pair’s rhythm had improved—something must have changed during the break. Still, he responded without hesitation.

As Tristan served again, a furious rally erupted. After just a few exchanges, that all-too-familiar image of losing the point once again flashed through Tristan’s and Timothée’s minds, sending a chill down their spines.

And despite their efforts to resist it, the scene became reality once more—the ball streaked past both of them in a flash of light, struck the baseline, and bounced out of bounds.

”15–15!”

After that, both sides traded points back and forth. It seemed Tristan and Timothée had unleashed their full potential, causing slight distortions in Yukimura’s Seizing the Future. Even their post-point posing had completely stopped.

”30–15!”

”40–15!”

”40–30!”

”Game! France! 1–0!”

With their sudden surge, the French team claimed the first game of the set. But Yukimura and Omagari’s expressions didn’t change much. Yukimura would soon correct the distortion—it was clear their opponents couldn’t maintain that burst for long.

As expected, once Yukimura had grasped the extent of their strength, he simulated every possible rally path, even calculating Omagari’s potential counter lines. Seizing the Future returned to full power, and no matter how Tristan and Timothée tried to change their shots, they couldn’t escape their destined point loss.

”Game! Japan! 1–1!”

Soon, however, Timothée resumed his ballet-style tennis. To avoid the psychological suggestion effect, Yukimura had to activate Zero Senses Tennis, which meant Seizing the Future could no longer be used.

Omagari simply shut his eyes completely, refusing to look at the movements. His interception accuracy dropped sharply, but it was better than being distracted by the hypnotic dance.

Though Zero Senses Tennis greatly boosted Yukimura’s explosiveness, the French duo weren’t weak. Without Seizing the Future in play, they were able to take points through pure skill and coordination.

”Game! France! 2–1!”

”Game! Japan! 2–2!”

The score rose alternately. Omagari relied on his extraordinary endurance, using only sound and ball sense to hold his ground, while Yukimura relentlessly sought openings and scored through bursts of explosive precision.

The French bench looked utterly baffled. On the court, Tristan and Timothée seemed locked in an intense exchange—but their opponents, the two from Japan, weren’t even moving much.

”Playing doubles with you is surprisingly easy sometimes~,” Omagari said, glancing at the two opponents who now seemed trapped in a dream.

Yukimura didn’t answer. He was entirely focused on maintaining the dream world—pulling two people into it at once wasn’t something he could do casually.

Most of the audience was completely confused. They couldn’t tell what was happening at all. Only the Japanese middle schoolers were staring at Yukimura with uneasy, awe-filled eyes.

”He spent an entire set setting this up. This level of dream manipulation isn’t something you can just break out of,” Oni said quietly from the Japan bench.

Having experienced Yukimura’s dream before, Oni knew exactly what was happening. Every move Yukimura made during the first set—his sensory deprivation, his Seizing the Future, even his final explosive awakening—had all been part of the dream’s setup.

”Game! Japan! 4–0!”

As the referee called out the real score, the French bench began to panic. Only Camus remained composed, watching silently. To him, this was just another trial on the road of revolution—victory or defeat didn’t matter.

Inside the dream world, Tristan started feeling something off around the fifth game. His opponents suddenly seemed weaker than before—maybe it was fatigue, but something didn’t add up.

When he saw Timothée once again fall into a state of sensory loss, Tristan finally realized the problem. The crowd’s reactions were too mechanical. Even though he and Timothée weren’t posing anymore, the audience still screamed as if they were.

’What the hell is this? Am I seeing an illusion?!’ Tristan thought in confusion.

”Tristan! I think we’ve been hypnotized!” Timothée shouted suddenly, having just regained his senses.

Tristan jerked his head up. Timothée was pointing toward the stands—toward where his father sat. His father’s eyes were full of pride and encouragement.

”That’s...” Tristan muttered.

”Exactly!” Timothée nodded firmly.

The next moment, the air before them cracked open. More fissures began spreading rapidly, and within seconds, the entire world shattered like broken glass.

”Game! Japan! 5–0!”

When the two snapped back to reality, the referee’s voice echoed again. Tristan quickly turned toward the scoreboard—it was exactly as announced.

As they struggled to make sense of what had happened, Yukimura’s calm voice drifted from across the court.

”So, you noticed. Still, sometimes... it’s not so bad to stay inside a beautiful dream.”

Behind Yukimura, a divine phantom slowly emerged—a sacred figure draped in white robes, vast butterfly wings fluttering gently. It was his Alternate Dimension—Morpheus.