As the cheers for Takai Yuko's overwhelming victory gradually died down, the massive electronic screen at the top-floor arena of the Battle Tower refreshed once more. Streams of light flowed, and two new names were locked in.
Kudo Shiba.
His match was about to begin.
Stepping onto the cold, solid battlefield, Shiba calmly fixed his gaze on the Trainer opposite him.
His opponent was a young man from a local Magic City family, his face carrying traces of barely concealed arrogance and confidence. That confidence clearly came from the Pokémon hovering in front of him, flapping its four thin wings and emitting sharp screeches.
A Golbat—peak Elite rank.
For a Rookie Trainer, this was undeniably a powerful force capable of sweeping through most of their peers.
However, in Shiba's eyes, every movement of this Golbat—every beat of its wings, every tiny current it stirred in the air—was as clear as if it were playing back in slow motion.
Not enough.
This level of strength was still far from enough.
Low murmurs rippled through the stands. Everyone was curious which Pokémon Shiba would choose to face such a tricky opponent.
Would it be that domineering ancient behemoth, Aerodactyl?
Or the ferocious, power-packed Gible that had first shown its fangs in the Dragon's Den tournament?
Under the weight of all those expectant gazes, Shiba merely raised his hand and tossed out an ordinary Poké Ball.
He didn't even bother watching it land.
A flash of red.
A sleek, sky-blue Dragonair emerged, hovering quietly in midair. The crystals at its neck and tail shimmered under the lights, scattering dreamlike reflections—its presence so graceful and noble it hardly seemed of this world.
No earth-shaking roar.
No overwhelming wave of pressure.
Just this effortless poise and elegance was enough to make the opposing Trainer's expression shift slightly.
He felt it.
He was being completely underestimated.
"Tch… putting on an act!"
The young Trainer growled under his breath and launched the first strike.
"Golbat, Supersonic!"
Shrill soundwaves burst outward, aiming to scramble Dragonair's senses.
But Dragonair simply hovered there, its deep eyes as still as an untouched lake. The attack that would've left ordinary Pokémon reeling might as well have been a passing breeze around its ears.
Graceful—and strong.
The opponent's face darkened.
"Fine! Then we'll win with speed! Get in close—Confuse Ray!"
Golbat turned into a purple blur, circling Dragonair at high speed. Its four wings carved intricate patterns through the air, searching for blind spots to exploit.
Dragonair still didn't move.
It hovered there with effortless balance, letting the currents whip around its body. Its sky-blue form remained as steady as bedrock amid the turbulence.
Seconds ticked by.
The battle on the field looked strangely lopsided.
One side attacking frantically in a dazzling flurry.
The other unmoving, calm as a statue.
Finally, the young Trainer's patience snapped completely. He could no longer endure the humiliation of being ignored. He practically screamed his final command:
"Rip it apart! Wing Attack!"
Golbat screeched and pushed its speed to the limit, its body becoming a violet arrow as it dove for Dragonair's chest.
Now.
A faint glint finally flashed through Shiba's eyes.
At that critical instant, Dragonair—still as calm as standing water until then—moved.
No wasted motion.
Its long, powerful tail snapped upward at an angle that was almost impossible to track with the naked eye.
The air cracked with a sharp report.
At the tip of that tail, Dragon-type energy condensed to an extreme.
Dragon Tail.
BOOM—!
The diving purple blur slammed into an invisible wall of steel. All of Golbat's momentum—its speed, its force, its killing intent—collapsed in an instant under that precise strike.
Golbat let out a short, strangled cry, its body spinning out of control as it spiraled from the air and crashed onto the hard arena floor. Its eyes had already turned into spirals of unconsciousness.
One hit.
Just one hit.
The entire sequence was clean and relaxed, showing the composure and indifference of a top-class predator.
It wasn't until the referee raised his flag and shouting filled the air that the stunned crowd snapped out of their daze.
In the following rounds, there was no suspense whatsoever.
Shiba advanced with ruthless, crushing ease.
During this time, in the quarterfinals, Yuko encountered a formidable opponent. Their ace was a Manectric, its fur bristling and body wreathed in crackling electricity—a quasi-Elite-level threat.
Whether in speed or in typing, the Electric-type held a huge advantage over her Fighting-type Machoke, putting it into the toughest battle it had ever faced.
In the end, under a brutal Wild Charge, Machoke fell and lost.
"It's fine. You did great."
Shiba walked to the end of the passageway, looking at the slightly dejected Yuko. His voice was gentle.
"Your commands are getting more decisive, and Machoke reacts much faster than before. Keep working hard. Next time, you'll make it even farther."
There were no flowery words—just a simple statement that carried its own convincing weight.
Yuko lifted her head and met Shiba's calm, serious gaze. The frustration in her heart quickly gave way to a renewed fighting spirit.
She nodded firmly.
Neither of them left the venue. Instead, they headed up into the stands to watch the remaining matches.
Just then, a roar of energy, louder than anything from the other arenas, burst across from a neighboring field, followed by wild, thunderous exclamations from the crowd.
Shiba's attention was instantly drawn to the battle there.
On that field, a boy stood with his back toward him, giving calm, steady commands.
The boy's posture and presence faintly resembled Shiba's own—carrying a calm confidence far beyond his age.
And the Pokémon he commanded made Shiba's pupils narrow slightly.
A small, blue-bodied Dragon-type, its head encased in a hard helm-like skull.
A pseudo-legendary—Bagon.
Its aura was shockingly fierce, every one of its movements overflowing with explosive force.
Its opponent was a massive, Gym-level Charizard.
"He's using a Bagon… to suppress a Gym-level Charizard?"
Genuine surprise flashed through Shiba's eyes.
Fights across major level gaps were normally one-sided massacres.
But the scene before him shattered that expectation.
Looking more closely, Shiba could see Bagon's level was extremely high, and its training was nearly flawless. Every muscle line, every scale shimmer—everything was in top condition.
Even more intimidating was its fighting style.
Against Charizard's blazing Dragon Breath, it slipped away with the smallest possible movements.
Against Charizard's slashing claws, it dared to slam forward with its hardened head and meet the blow head-on.
Every move, every step, every dodge—it all carried a polished beauty, like a battle forged through countless trials.
This was absolutely the result of top-tier, Champion-grade training.
Finally, when Charizard began to falter under the strain of its own energy consumption and revealed the slightest opening, the boy seized his moment.
"Dragon Rush!"
At his command, a dazzling surge of Dragon-type power burst from Bagon's body. It became an unstoppable blue meteor and crashed into Charizard's chest with unstoppable momentum.
A thunderous impact.
The Gym-level Charizard was sent flying, knocked out cold.
"Who is that guy? He's crazy strong!"
Yuko couldn't help covering her mouth, eyes wide with disbelief.
Shiba did not answer.
Deep in his gaze, a faint golden halo began to slowly turn.
[Eye of True Knowledge]—activate.
A virtual status pane, visible only to him, appeared clearly above the boy's head.
[Trainer: Agano Roka]
[Background: Eldest grandson of the Dragon-Taming Agano Clan of the Imperial Capital of the Xia Nation. Grandfather: Dragon-type Champion Agano Kanko]
The Imperial Capital Agano Clan.
Agano Kanko.
Another heir of a Dragon-type Champion family.
Shiba's eyes sharpened at once.
He could sense it clearly—this boy named Roka, whether in terms of his unfathomable family background or his own frighteningly calm command ability, was in no way inferior to himself.
Especially that powerful Bagon.
In a pure Dragon-vs-Dragon fight against his Dragonair, it might even hold a slight advantage in terms of typing and growth curve.
This would be a formidable rival.
Shiba slowly withdrew his gaze. The relaxed ease with which he'd swept the earlier rounds faded away.
In its place—focused caution and rising battle intent as he met a worthy opponent.
He pushed aside any trace of arrogance. His mind began to spin rapidly, simulating tactics.
If he were to face Roka in the finals, how should he adjust his lineup and strategies…
To secure the final victory.
(End of Chapter)
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