Chapter 14: The Excited Pigtails

"Whoa, what kind of terrifying monster-strength does that Timburr have?! It knocked out a Flying-type Pidgeotto with a single Rock Throw?!"

"No way... even if it's a Rock-type move against a Flying-type, a single hit shouldn't be enough to take Pidgeotto down like that!"

The spectators were left in a daze, their whispers of disbelief filling the air. No one expected a Fighting-type Pokémon, burdened by a type disadvantage, to resolve the battle in just a few exchanges.

It wasn't just a win; it was a total knockout.

"That guy N... he only got his starter Pokémon last week. How can he be this strong?!"

"That Timburr's strength is likely at the Elite level or higher. Otherwise, even with Focus Energy aiming for a critical hit, the battle wouldn't have ended in one blow..."

Standing beside Hilda, Rosa spoke with a look of grave focus, resting her chin in her palm as she analyzed the scene.

League regulations state that one must be sixteen to officially own a Pokémon, which is when most Trainers begin their journey. Current high schoolers are typically seventeen or eighteen; those with talent and wealthy backgrounds can spend a year or two honing their skills, and it isn't uncommon for them to own Alpha-level Pokémon.

However, the girl next to her had just claimed that the youth named N had only received his starter last week. That meant his career as a Trainer spanned a grand total of seven days.

A Trainer of one week owning an Elite-level Pokémon?

It wasn't impossible for a rookie to possess a high-level Pokémon, but most Pokémon are prideful. Many are unwilling to follow the orders of an inexperienced Trainer. Yet, under N's command, that Timburr hadn't hesitated for a single heartbeat.

Even with N's clipped, minimalist commands, the Pokémon reacted instantly. Normally, that kind of rapport only comes after months of living and training together.

"Um..."

"My name is Hilda!"

"Hilda," Rosa said, her voice dropping an octave, "you said N just got his starter last week, right? But he can perfectly command an Elite Pokémon he just met. That can only mean one thing..."

Rosa took a deep breath, a slow smile spreading across her face. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with a sudden, infectious battle-lust.

She stared intently at the field, where the green-haired youth remained as poised and elegant as ever. He was calmly adjusting the brim of his cap, a faint, meaningful smile playing on his lips.

"It means... his caliber as a Trainer is already so high that the Timburr was utterly won over by him!"

Rosa was visibly vibrating with excitement. She had come to the Japan region with the exchange team specifically to find strong opponents. To her, N was clearly a rival whose talent and strength rivaled her own. She was already looking forward to facing him in the later rounds.

"Guh..."

Seeing the fire in Rosa's eyes as she stared at N, Hilda felt a sudden, sharp pang of crisis. She instinctively began to view the girl beside her with maximum wariness.

"Hilda, my match is about to start too. I'll see you in the later rounds!"

With a cheerful wave, Rosa jogged away, leaving a sweating Hilda behind. This was the first time she had felt such immense pressure, both in terms of Pokémon battles and... other matters.

…

The preliminary rounds moved quickly. Despite the large number of participants, the group stages soon whittled the field down to four finalists.

N's second match was against a Pansear, which Timburr dispatched with ease. His third match against a Scyther and his fourth against a Poliwhirl both featured Elite-level opponents. Though they were somewhat tricky, he emerged victorious.

Relying solely on a single, unevolved Timburr, N had breezed through the bracket. Even when pitted against Trainers wielding Elite-level Pokémon, he won without incident. In an instant, he had become the tournament's biggest dark horse.

Meanwhile, Hilda, the president of the Battle Class and a top student, had also lived up to her reputation. After receiving her starter, she had undergone grueling training. Her strength was undeniable, and she successfully secured a spot in the Top 4.

However, because she had only had her Pokémon for a short time, even a gifted Starter Pokémon couldn't grow infinitely in a week. Consequently, nearly every one of her matches was a narrow victory, a white-knuckle climb to the finals.

"Phew!! These back-to-back matches are killing me! That Beautifly in the last round was a nightmare. If I hadn't relied on Tepig's type advantage, I'd have been toast for sure!"

Hilda chugged a bottle of mineral water. Several rounds of high-intensity battling had drained not just the Pokémon's stamina, but the Trainer's mental focus as well. Beads of sweat lined her brow, and her skin glowed with a soft, dewy sheen under the afternoon sun.

"...It sounds like you had a tough time. The opponents I faced were all quite strong too. I only barely won through a bit of luck."

N, sitting beside Hilda, offered a calm and gentle smile. From his appearance, you couldn't tell he had been through anything "perilous." Hilda, who had watched every single one of his matches, knew better.

He had been matched against some of the strongest competitors in the field, all of whom used Elite-level Pokémon. Yet, he had used that one Timburr to smash through the bracket and reach the Top 4. The "weight" of his victories was on an entirely different level than hers.

"If the Trainers you defeated heard you say that, what are they supposed to do?"

Hilda rolled her eyes, completely failing to see how his matches, where he was rarely even touched by the enemy, counted as "barely winning."

N's battle style was uncanny. It was as if every move the opponent made was already written in his script. Tactics that seemed brilliant to others were systematically dismantled the moment they touched N's rhythm.

If N were to describe it, he would call it "calculation." Every step in his battle was like a variable in a mathematical formula. He turned his enemies into marionettes dancing to his beat, seeing through their hearts so clearly it was almost chilling.

As a spectator, Hilda had watched it all, and she couldn't even begin to imagine how she would respond if she were the one standing across the field from him.