The seventh member of Modu Academy stepped onto the field, his face pale and devoid of fighting spirit, as if he had already accepted defeat.
His Pokémon was a Haxorus, at the peak of pseudo-Elite level.
In terms of appearance, Haxorus was a fierce and stylish Dragon-type Pokémon, rivaling Garchomp in terms of raw visual intimidation. Just a glance was enough to give the impression that it wasn't to be trifled with.
If you looked at Dragonite, however, without knowing it was a pseudo-legendary, you'd probably think it was just a big, goofy sweetheart.
Dragonite was the Pokémon world's poster child for the "honest face."
It seemed Haxorus had no idea what happened to the six trainers before it.
Opening with a taunt, Haxorus challenged Metagross with a loud roar.
Metagross responded with a combination of Teleport and Bullet Punch.
In an instant, Metagross appeared to Haxorus's left, its Bullet Punch slicing through the air. Haxorus felt as though its face had been run over by a truck.
From the audience's perspective, Haxorus had barely roared when Metagross teleported and landed a devastating Bullet Punch, sending the Dragon flying.
The attack didn't knock out Haxorus immediately, though. After being flung a hundred meters, it slammed its arms into the ground to halt its rolling momentum.
Metagross's sudden "sneak attack" had clearly infuriated Haxorus. Its face, now completely numb, burned with rage, igniting as the energy of Outrage surged within it.
Its eyes turned blood-red, and waves of intense, steam-like heat radiated from its body.
Under the effects of Outrage, Haxorus's anger overwhelmed its reason, momentarily pushing its power close to Elite-level strength.
Still, the power boost from Outrage was nowhere near comparable to Mega Evolution.
The two moves collided in an explosive clash that shattered nearly half the battlefield. The shockwaves pounded against the protective barrier, sending tremors through the entire arena.
"Haxorus is unable to battle. Metagross wins!"
The seventh trainer from Modu Academy had been defeated.
Without hesitation, the trainer recalled Haxorus, his urgency to leave written in his hurried movements. He dashed off the stage without even looking back.
'Dylan will defeat him!'
Meanwhile, in Luis's villa at Imperial University, several of Julian's friends—Hugo, Yanis, Ian, Shen, Walter and Dalton—were gathered, watching the match.
"That's seven in a row. Brother Walker truly lives up to his reputation!"
"Boss Julian is absolutely incredible. I won't be able to take on even one of them!"
"If it were me as the eighth opponent, I'd just surrender on the spot. We all know how it's going to end anyway."
Luis and Dalton exchanged smug grins as they shamelessly continued to hype up Julian.
The rest of the group refrained from further comments, their remaining sense of shame holding them back.
"The eighth trainer from Modu Academy should be their captain, right?" Hugo said, idly twirling a sharp knife in his hand.
Having grown up in the wild fights, Hugo always carried a knife with him. He spun it frequently—not just for practice, but also to show off in front of the others.
"Yeah, his name's Dylan Drake. He competed last year when he was in his third year of university. I remember watching his match back then—I was still in my senior year of high school," Walter replied.
"Ian, isn't he from your family?" Walter asked with a curious look on his face.
Modu Academy had strong ties to the Drake family. Most of their family members chose to attend that academy, making someone like Ian, who opted for Imperial University, a rarity.
Ian's expression turned slightly sour, but he nodded.
"He's very strong. Julian may not necessarily be able to beat him," Ian said.
The others weren't surprised to hear this. After all, anyone who could be the captain of a team like Modu Academy' was bound to be strong.
Still, the tone in Ian's voice hinted that something had happened between him and Dylan.
"You've got that 'love-hate relationship' look on your face. Did Dylan do something to you?"
Luis, who possessed Aura abilities, though still at a beginner level, picked up on Ian's emotional fluctuations when he mentioned Dylan.
Ian didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the screen instead.
Sensing Ian's reluctance, Luis tactfully dropped the subject.
Annoying Ian wasn't worth the trouble, even if curiosity was gnawing at him.
Julian looked at Dylan standing on the opposite side, who was also looking at him.
There was no dramatic exchange of glances or internal monologues—just a brief, neutral acknowledgment of each other's presence.
If Julian had any thoughts, it was the observation that Dylan was surprisingly handsome. His sharp yet composed features gave him an air of nobility and strength.
Julian's calm expression faltered slightly as he looked up to see Salamence with it's blood-red wings hovering in midair.
An Elite-level Pokémon. It made no effort to hide the oppressive aura radiating from it.
Pokémon: Salamence (Dragon/Flying)
Held Item: Dragon Fang
Moves: Dragon Tail, Bite, Crunch, Dragon Breath, Headbutt, Scary Face, Dragon Claw, Zen Headbutt, Focus Energy, Flamethrower, Outrage
TMs: Breaking Swipes, Giga Impact, Hyper Beam, Protect, Steel Wing, Air Slash, Earthquake, Brick Break, Dragon Pulse, Shadow Claw, Helping Hands, Heat Wave
Genetic Moves: Dragon Rush, Hydro Pump, Twister, Draco Meteor, Dragon Dance
Not only was it an Elite Pokémon, but its potential was also Blue.
The revelation that Dylan, a 4th-year student, had an Elite Pokémon, immediately caused a stir among the audience as Salamence's information appeared on the big screen of the venue.
'Elite!-An Elite-level Pokémon!'
If most trainers viewed reaching the pseudo-Elite level as the pinnacle of their capabilities, then the Elite rank was a distant, almost mythical goal—one they might dream about but rarely attain.
The prestige of the title alone was enough to inspire countless trainers to dedicate their lives to achieving it.
In Drakoria, the number of registered trainers exceeded 300 hundred million. Among them, nearly one hundred million held the title of professional trainers. Yet, only about 500 trainers across the entire country had managed to reach the Elite level.
Every Elite Trainer, even a beginner-level would be treated with high regard wherever they went.
The requirements to become an Elite-level trainer were naturally very harsh. Just owning a Pokémon with Cyan-tier potential was a hurdle that eliminated 99% of trainers from ever having the chance.
For Dylan, a 21-year-old university senior, to have achieved this feat at such a young age was nothing short of extraordinary.
For Pokémon, advancing from level 70 (pseudo-Elite peak) to level 71 (Elite-level) was considered a monumental leap.
Even for a Pokémon with Cyan-tier potential, this progression could take anywhere from 3–4 years to as long as 7–10 years, or even decades.
These years were spent painstakingly accumulating energy.
As reaching the Elite level was akin to a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon as a butterfly. The transformation required an immense amount of stored energy.
While trainers could invest substantial resources to accelerate this process, the kind of resources capable of bridging the gap between pseudo-Elite and Elite level were both rare and exorbitantly expensive.