Drake recalled his three Pokémon into their Poké Balls.
Ariel stood where he was, his palms slightly damp with sweat.
It wasn't out of nervousness, but excitement.
An opportunity to spar with such a powerful figure was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
To him, Drake's silence felt more like the calm before a storm.
"Phew—"
Drake finally let out a long breath, breaking the stillness.
He raised his hand, pressed two fingers to his lips, and let out a clear, long whistle.
The whistle pierced through the noise of the jungle with a unique rhythm.
Ariel instinctively looked toward the direction the sound had come from.
Before long, a powerful gust of wind descended from the sky, sending the stray hairs on his forehead dancing wildly.
A massive shadow blotted out the sunlight overhead, and with a deep, powerful dragon's roar, a Charizard spiraled down from the heights, landing steadily behind Drake.
This was no ordinary Charizard.
Ariel's pupils contracted slightly.
This Charizard was a size larger than normal, its orange skin like burning flames, reflecting a metallic sheen under the sunlight.
Its eyes didn't hold the typical ignorance or simple ferocity of common Pokémon; instead, they possessed a calm sharpness born of a hundred battles, like a veteran general.
What truly made Ariel's heart skip a beat was the invisible aura that radiated outward when it landed.
It was a pressure formed purely from condensed power, causing even his own battle-hardened Pokémon to instinctively tense up and let out low whimpers as if facing a mortal enemy.
Even Krookodile's usual rebellious streak was largely suppressed before this Charizard.
This aura...
Only one word came to Ariel's mind: Elite.
This was absolutely an Elite Four Level Charizard!
Drake acted as if he hadn't noticed the change in Ariel's expression, naturally handing over the three Poké Balls containing his injured Pokémon.
Charizard lowered its head and carefully took them with its claws, its movements so gentle they were completely at odds with its massive frame and terrifying presence.
"Take these to Nurse Joy, old friend."
Drake patted Charizard's thick neck, his tone like he was entrusting a small task to an old companion.
Charizard nodded, its deep dragon eyes glancing at Ariel. That single look was calm and rippleless, yet it made Ariel feel as though he had been seen through from the inside out.
Then, with a flap of its wings, it kicked up a gale and soared into the sky, vanishing over the horizon in an instant.
A breeze blew by, dispersing some of the scorching heat left behind by Charizard.
Only then did Drake turn his gaze back to Ariel, clapping his hands together in front of him. The crisp sound echoed across the empty training ground.
"Alright, warm-up's over."
He looked at Ariel, his eyes becoming profound.
"Kid, let me ask you, what is your goal for this Ever Grande Conference?"
The question came suddenly, yet it was perfectly logical.
Ariel hardly had to think.
If someone had asked him this a few months ago, he might have said his goal was the top eight, or perhaps a bit further.
Back then, he was down-to-earth, taking things one step at a time and never dreaming too big.
But things were different now.
His current strength gave him confidence.
His gaze met Drake's without the slightest hint of avoidance.
"The Championship."
Two words, crisp and clear, carrying the weight of conviction.
The air fell silent once more.
The wrinkles on Drake's face suddenly smoothed out as he smiled. It wasn't a loud laugh, but it was filled with an indescribable sense of relief and appreciation.
"Haha, 'The Championship'! Well said!"
He didn't judge whether Ariel was being arrogant or confident; he simply paced a few steps to the edge of the training ground. With his back to Ariel, he gazed out at the shimmering sea in the distance.
"Kid, do you know? In my life, I've seen too many geniuses shouting about winning the championship."
His voice sounded somewhat distant, carried by the sea breeze.
"Some are exceptionally gifted but lack mental fortitude, collapsing after one or two failures. Others come from illustrious families with endless resources, only to have their edges dulled by comfort."
"But you..."
Drake turned around, his old eyes shining with a startling brightness that seemed capable of piercing through a person's soul.
"You are different. Your eyes tell me that the championship isn't just empty talk to you; it's the path you are about to walk."
He exhaled a breath of salty sea air, his tone becoming solemn.
"Ariel, in the future, you will surely become an Elite. I have read countless people, and on this point, I will not be mistaken."
"Once those two Pseudo-Legendaries of yours mature, your strength will undergo a true leap. At that time, a seat among the Hoenn Elite Four might not be out of your reach to fight for."
The Hoenn Elite Four!
These words exploded in Ariel's heart like a thunderclap.
That was the pinnacle of the League's power, the ultimate goal that countless Trainers looked up to.
Elite Drake... actually held him in such high regard?
A surge of heat rose from his heart, making his cheeks flush slightly.
He opened his mouth, but found that any words of modesty seemed pale and powerless before Drake's all-seeing eyes.
"Elite Drake, you... you overpraise me. I still have a long way to go."
In the end, he could only manage to squeeze out that dry sentence.
"Hmph, don't give me those empty pleasantries."
Drake waved his hand, cutting him off.
"It's a good thing for a young man to have some pride. Those without pride are just salted fish!"
His tone shifted, his expression becoming three parts more serious.
"However, I must remind you. If your future goal is truly to become an Elite, or even one of the Elite Four..."
Drake paused, speaking every word with deliberation.
"Then the Ever Grande Conference championship isn't your goal. It's a threshold you must cross—the... absolute minimum threshold."
A threshold he must cross?
The absolute minimum threshold?
Ariel was stunned.
In his eyes, and the eyes of the vast majority of people, a regional conference championship was already an incredible honor, the beginning of a 'carp leaping over the dragon gate'.
Yet in Drake's mouth, this was actually just a minimum standard?
What did that really mean?
"Why?"
Ariel couldn't help but press for an answer.
Drake kept him in suspense, offering a mysterious smile.
"You will understand that naturally later. Telling you now would only distract you."
Ariel nodded thoughtfully, burying this question deep in his heart.
He knew Drake wouldn't speak without reason. There must be deeper implications involved, perhaps some hidden rules regarding the promotion to the Elite rank.
And what he needed to do now was to secure that 'minimum threshold'.
"Alright, kid. Enough small talk."
Drake stretched his limbs again, his joints popping and cracking, his eyes flashing with an eager light.
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