"You're really strong. I hope you do well," Ethan Walsh said as he withdrew his Blastoise.
After a brief exchange of polite words with Silas, he left the battlefield and headed toward Nurse Joy's healing station nearby.
The surrounding spectators began to disperse in small groups.
In the preliminary rounds, battles between trainers of Silas and Ethan's caliber weren't rare.But because matches were spread across many different arenas, each individual one seemed uncommon and whenever such matches ended, people quietly dispersed without making a scene.
Silas himself had once witnessed two trainers, both commanding pseudo-Elite-level Pokémon, facing off by sheer bad luck.
Though their rankings were in the triple digits, the match between them had been truly spectacular.
By contrast, today's fight between his quasi-Elite Pidgeot and Advance-level Blastoise only looked flashy in reality, there was a large power gap.
Pidgeot had hardly taken any damage; most of its stamina loss came from its own repeated offensive maneuvers.
In fact, Blastoise's type disadvantage made the matchup heavily one-sided.
That was why Pidgeot appeared to struggle a bit despite the clear difference in strength.
"Come on, let's get you checked by Nurse Joy," Silas said, turning to his Pidgeot, who had just used Roost to recover some energy on the ground.
While Roost could restore stamina, it didn't actually heal injuries.
As a trainer, one must never forget:
No matter what kind of battle your Pokémon has gone through, you must take it to Nurse Joy for a post-battle check and recovery because she's the professional.
Before this idea became standard practice long ago, countless Pokémon suffered from their trainers' neglect their injuries accumulated, leading to weaker strength, reduced potential, and even shortened lifespans.
By the time regret set in, it was always too late.
Silas and his Pidgeot's figures gradually disappeared into the crowd.
Seventh Preliminary Match
"Nidoking is unable to battle! The winner is Silas Alaric from Viridian City Gigalith wins!"
Eighth Preliminary Match
"Magnezone is unable to battle! Rhydon wins! The winner is Silas Alaric from Viridian City!"
Ninth Preliminary Match
"Scyther is unable to battle! Togekiss wins! The winner is Silas Alaric from Viridian City!"
Tenth Preliminary Match
"Togekiss, finish it off — use Mystical Fire!"
Silas commanded powerfully, looking up at the Togekiss flying high in the air.
"Togekiss!"
Togekiss's small face grew serious none of its usual cheerful playfulness remained.
It opened its mouth, and a fiery ring began to form flames burning violently, constantly shifting in shape.
The next moment, the ring shot forward.
Its opponent, a large swallow-like Pokémon, was already covered in wounds; one of its wings even bore scorch marks mixed with fire, electric, and ice damage, making flight extremely difficult.
"Swellow~!"
It tried to dodge upon hearing its trainer's command, but its body couldn't keep up — the fiery ring slammed directly into it.
The Swellow screamed in pain, spiraling downward and crashing hard into the ground, eyes spinning in defeat.
"Swellow is unable to battle! Togekiss wins! The winner is Silas Alaric from Viridian City!"
The referee raised his flag, announcing the result with professional composure.
"Congratulations."
The opposing trainer recalled his Pokémon, exchanged a brief greeting with Silas, and walked away.
In an official competition, you couldn't expect a loser to smile at the winner.
Anyone with even a bit of pride and fighting spirit would find it hard to feel good after a loss, especially in a competitive setting like this.
Having completed his final preliminary match, Silas left the battlefield feeling completely at ease, with Togekiss beside him.
He had long grown used to the heat of the surrounding gazes.
Since Togekiss had only recently evolved, Silas deliberately let it participate in the last two matches to help it adjust to its new body.
Naturally, both before and after those matches, they drew crowds of onlookers.
From initial awkwardness to calm acceptance, both Silas and Togekiss had become familiar with this routine.
As he retrieved his Poké Balls from Nurse Joy and walked back toward his lodging, Silas once again experienced the downside of his heightened perception.
He could hear the soft crying of eliminated trainers echoing from various corners of the hall.
Most of them were likely those who had achieved seven victories, only one step away from the main tournament.
Among them were trainers ranked within the top 1,000 in strength, albeit on the lower end of that list.
Silas completely understood their sadness, but he also found it unnecessary.
It was simply a matter of strength — nothing more.
There was always next year.
Maybe that sounded easy for him to say, and sure, "next year" might come again and again, sometimes only to lose even harder but that was the reality.
If your strength was sufficient, even when facing strong opponents, you could still secure ten consecutive victories without question.
And yes Silas was referring to himself.
Unlike the first five matches where his opponents used Standard-level Pokémon, the last five matches he drew by lot were against Advance-level Pokémon.
Fortunately, he was strong enough to win every single one with ease.
There wasn't much else worth elaborating on, each match had been one-sided.
"Dear Trainer Silas Alaric, your preliminary record of ten consecutive victories has been verified.
You are exempt from participation in the qualification draw.
Please arrive at the Service Center Lobby before 12:00 noon tomorrow to complete the arena assignment draw for Round One of the regional elimination tournament.
Your trainer and Pokémon data will be re-registered at that time.
Please bring your Trainer ID, Pokédex, and the Poké Balls of the Pokémon you will be using in the match."
A notification flashed across his wrist device official communication from the Pokémon League. Efficient as always.
Inside one of the restaurants in the trainer village—
"So, did you get your message yet?"
Silas asked Yezo, who had naturally sat down across from him, casually eating a mouthful of food.
"Yeah, that was fast. It's only been half an hour since I got my own ten-win streak," Yezo replied, ordering his favorite dish and sighing with satisfaction.
"If we end up facing each other and I knock you out early, don't go crying home to your parents," Silas said with his mouth still half-full.
"Hah? You've got to be kidding. There's no way I'm losing to you," Yezo shot back.
Even though he didn't have much confidence in that claim, he refused to lose in spirit.
Over the past month, he had witnessed the astonishing progress of Silas and his Pokémon firsthand the only word to describe it was unbelievable.
He couldn't figure out where Silas got all those strange training recipes and formulas.
They couldn't all have come from ruins or ancient data, could they?
If some were self-developed, then Silas's talent as a breeder was absolutely off the charts.
"Yo, you two finished early, huh?"
Another familiar trainer, Yamashiro, joined them with a tray in hand, sitting down beside the pair.
Before long, the topic shifted from who would beat who to whose Pokémon was stronger.
That was one of those endless topics that trainers could argue about forever.
Gradually, Silas's eight-person table filled up. The thing they all had in common was their youth — they stood out among the other, older trainers around them.
Other competitors eating nearby occasionally shot them glances full of envy.
Hierarchies existed everywhere. Among tournament participants, trainers who owned pseudo–Elite-level Pokémon were already considered a top tier. But within that group, Silas, Yezo, and their circle stood at the very peak — the most gifted of them all.
Unlike most trainers, who were around twenty-eight to thirty-five years old, the oldest among this group was barely twenty-two.
Throughout the past month, they had stuck together around the trainers' village, exploring, battling, and eating as a team. Everyone there knew that this group of young prodigies had formed their own circle.
They were nicknamed the "Eight Prodigies" eight outstanding young trainers.
Silas couldn't quite understand where people got the habit of giving out weird nicknames. Somehow, he had ended up with a bunch of embarrassing titles that made him want to crawl under a table whenever he heard them.
"I'm done eating. I'm going back to get ready for the main event."
Silas was the first to arrive and the first to leave, making no effort to hide his mix of nervousness and excitement.
"Jeez, can't even keep your cool for a second," Yezo muttered, shaking one leg.
They were all first-timers in the League Conference — no need to pretend like veterans.
Room B34.
"Tomorrow or maybe in the next few days — we'll be battling in front of tens of thousands of spectators.
How does that feel? Excited?"
Silas spoke softly maybe to himself, maybe to the six Luxury Balls resting on the desk.
Each of the six Poké Balls wobbled slightly, some more vigorously than others.
"Well then, let's rest up for today. Good night, everyone."
After a short chat with his partners, Silas turned off the lights and climbed into bed.
In the darkness, the faint gleam in his eyes was strikingly bright.
Moments later, Silas's steady breathing filled the darkness.
Seriously… why do I still feel like a kid on a school trip before the big day?
That was Silas's last thought before falling asleep.
Ding~~~
The alarm blared, and Silas jolted upright from bed, still half-asleep.
He glanced at the clock — 6:30 a.m.
The service hall opened at seven.
After a quick ten-minute wash-up, he took a deep breath, grabbed the six Luxury Balls holding his partners, and stepped outside.
The real Indigo Plateau Conference the true Pokémon League was about to begin.
"So… are you ready, my rivals?"
Under the first rays of morning sunlight, anticipation shone brightly across the boy's face.
...
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