The word "Ancestor" landed like a thunderclap. Even Paul's composure cracked.
"Just getting some fresh air with the young ones." Deepwyrm's voice resonated in every mind present. "Carry on as normal."
Gary stared. "This Dragonite can talk?"
"Gary." Lance's voice dropped low and hard. "Show respect. This is the Patriarch of the Dragonite clan. His strength is beyond anything you can imagine."
Any other clan leader, even a powerful one, wouldn't have drawn this level of gravity from Lance. But Deepwyrm was God level. The Dragon Tamer Clan didn't just respect him. They deferred to him. A rookie trainer mouthing off was not going to fly.
"The Patriarch of the..." Gary trailed off, disbelief overriding his filter. "Then why was Ash riding him?"
Lance's eyes went round. Slowly, he turned to look at Ash, who was sitting on Deepwyrm's back with a casual grin, one hand resting on the ancient Dragonite's shoulder like they were old friends.
"Deepwyrm offered to escort us out," Ash said, as if this explained everything. "He's got a great personality."
Lance stood in the wind and questioned every assumption he'd ever made about the boundaries of human social ability. Three days. Ash had been on Dragon Island for three days, and he'd befriended the single most powerful and revered being on the entire island. The God level Dragonite was giving him rides.
A dark thought crossed Lance's mind: if Deepwyrm didn't have an island to run, would he have just left with Ash?
The thought was terrifying. If the Patriarch of Dragon Island abandoned his post to follow a fifteen-year-old trainer, the Dragon Tamer Clan would collapse into chaos overnight. You could catch whatever Pokémon you wanted on Dragon Island. You could not kidnap its leader.
Mercifully, Deepwyrm seemed content to stay. Fond of Ash, yes. Ready to uproot his centuries-old existence? Not quite.
Lance had a hundred questions about what Ash had caught and why Deepwyrm had taken such an interest, but those would have to wait. The return protocols came first, and Deepwyrm had indicated he had something to discuss with the Dragon Tamer Clan. Business before curiosity.
The three trainers returned to the Indigo Plateau. Paul left without a word, vanishing the moment his feet touched solid ground.
Gary had caught the Bagon. Ash's tip had been precise: within the Salamence clan's territory, one Bagon stood apart from the rest. S-rank talent made a Pokémon behave differently from its peers, and Gary had the eye to spot it. Earning the Bagon's respect had taken effort, but the outcome was never in serious doubt.
A good haul for both of them.
"What's next for you?" Ash asked as they walked the road back to Pallet Town.
"Training. Hard." Gary adjusted his backpack strap, eyes on the sky. "Then the Silver Conference. This year's tournament is going to be something special. If I sit it out, I'll regret it forever."
"Special how? Is the Silver Conference different this year?"
The Silver Conference wasn't like the Indigo Plateau Conference. It wasn't a rookie tournament. The field included veterans, seasoned professionals, and trainers with genuine Elite Four-calibre teams. A Silver Conference Champion earned the right to challenge the Elite Four or even the Regional Champion directly.
The Indigo Plateau Conference winner could only challenge the Elite Four, and no winner in history had exercised that right. A trainer who'd debuted less than two years ago knocking on an Elite's door was a joke on paper.
The Silver Conference was different. Champions from that tournament had challenged the Elite Four, and some had won. It was the primary pathway into the highest levels of competitive battling outside of working your way up through League bureaucracy.
Elite Four-level trainers entering the Silver Conference was common. A Champion-tier trainer showing up happened maybe once a decade. If you drew one, you called it bad luck and moved on.
This year, the rules had changed.
"You haven't been watching the news?" Gary looked at Ash with an expression that hovered between disbelief and resignation. "The new rules dropped two days ago. This year's Silver Conference Champion qualifies for the Masters Eight Selection Tournament."
"The Masters Eight Selection Tournament!" Ash's eyes went wide.
Gary waited.
"What's that?"
Gary stared at him.
You just reacted like it was the biggest news of your life. You don't even know what it is.
"You know what the Masters Eight Tournament is, right?"
"Of course."
"The last Masters Eight was six months ago. Leon from Galar won, so Galar hosts again. The next tournament is scheduled for eight months from now, which means it falls about one month after the Silver Conference ends. The Selection Tournament takes place during that window. It determines who fills the remaining seats."
Gary explained everything to Ash in detail, acting just like a nagging mother.
Seven major Leagues operated across the world: Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos, and Alola. Five of those regions had Champions. Kanto and Alola did not. Alola didn't even have a formal Elite Four, though its Island Kahunas served the same function under a different title.
The Masters Eight Tournament was reserved for Champions. Hold a regional Championship title, and you earned a direct seat. Five Champions, eight seats. The remaining three had to be filled through other means.
The League had long-term plans for a universal ranking system, but half a year wasn't enough lead time to build it. For this cycle, the gap would be closed through a Selection Tournament.
Two paths into the Selection Tournament. First: hold an Elite Four position in any region. Second: win the Silver Conference.
That second path was why this year's Silver Conference was about to become a war zone.
"Think about it," Gary said. "Every trainer who's strong enough to challenge an Elite Four member but doesn't want to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare of a formal challenge now has a cleaner route. Win the Silver Conference, earn the qualifier spot. For most people, that's simpler than filing an Elite challenge, waiting two weeks for processing, and hoping the timing works out."
The result was predictable. The Silver Conference field would include not just the usual veterans and professionals, but trainers who operated at or near Elite Four level. Maybe higher. If a hidden Champion-tier competitor decided that a tournament victory was easier than navigating League politics, they'd enter too.
"There's that kind of competition coming?" Ash's expression was pure excitement where anyone sane would have shown dread.
A rookie trainer hearing this news six months into their career should have felt the sky closing in. The Silver Conference was already the hardest League tournament in the circuit. Adding Elite-level trainers and a Masters Eight qualifier as the prize turned it into something unprecedented.
Ash saw a challenge that made his blood run faster and a convenient shortcut to the world stage. Nothing else.
"There's more," Gary continued. "Some smaller rule changes haven't been finalised yet, but word is that Gym Badges from other regions might count toward Silver Conference eligibility. That hasn't been confirmed, but if it goes through..."
"Then the participant count explodes." Ash's eyes widened. "You'd have trainers from every region entering. That's not a League Conference. That's a world tournament."
"The estimates are over a thousand entrants. The Silver Conference venue is already being expanded to two or three times its current size. Elite Four members, Champions, and Gym Leaders from multiple regions are expected to attend for security and event management."
Ash gave Gary a long look. "Where are you getting all of this? The Silver Conference reform is public, fine. But expansion plans and staffing details? You're not making this up?"
"It's from my grandfather." Gary's tone carried the particular irritation of someone who'd been accused of lying while delivering accurate intelligence. "Professor Oak has League contacts. This is first-hand information."
That tracked. If anyone in their circle had a direct line to League planning, it was Oak.
"Lance didn't mention any of this," Ash muttered.
"He's the Johto Champion. The Silver Conference falls under his jurisdiction. He can't leak reform details to every trainer he's friendly with. Not everyone operates like my grandfather."
Fair point.
Ash was quiet for a moment. The road stretched ahead of them, Pallet Town growing closer with each step. The Silver Conference. A reformed tournament packed with the strongest trainers from every region. Elite Four-level opponents in the bracket. A Masters Eight qualifier spot waiting at the top.
His fist clenched at his side.
"Then I'll train six Pokémon to Elite Four level before the conference starts."
Gary glanced at him. The statement was absurd by any normal standard. Six Elite-tier Pokémon in the span of a few months, from a trainer who'd been active for less than a year.
He didn't argue. Because this was Ash. And Ash might actually do it.