Ash's words struck Nathan Glacienne like lightning — because he was right.
From the very first battle, Nathan had focused entirely on the battlefield — the terrain, the weather, the angle of attacks — but not once had he truly observed Pikachu itself.
He had been tracking movement patterns and predicting attacks, yet he'd ignored the most vital detail: the Pokémon's own rhythm and emotion.
This was a common pitfall among Data Path trainers. They excelled at analysis — gathering data, predicting outcomes, breaking down statistics — but if that data was incomplete or outdated, their entire battle strategy collapsed.
Many became slaves to their own algorithms, waiting for information instead of feeling the flow of battle in real time.
Ash flicked his cigarette and exhaled calmly.
"I think you've already reached the Elite tier," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.
"Your Cloyster and Dewgong are solid, but compared to your sister's level, they're still far behind. My advice? Put aside your obsession with data for now. Go back to the basics. Rebuild your foundation if you truly want to stabilize your strength as an Elite."
Nathan fell silent, lost in thought. On the battlefield, Charizard gave a low, disdainful roar at Blastoise, clearly unimpressed by its aura. The Dragon Pokémon didn't even consider the match worth its time.
"Referee," Nathan said quietly, withdrawing Blastoise's Poké Ball, "I forfeit."
The stadium fell silent for a moment — then applause broke out.
No one mocked him. Everyone present could see Nathan's potential and understood that this was a moment of humility, not defeat.
Narrator: "Because Nathan Glacienne has chosen to forfeit, victory goes to Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town!"
Forfeits were common in Ash's matches. Many opponents couldn't withstand the pressure his presence brought — his overwhelming confidence, his ruthlessness in combat. This was one more battle added to his growing legend.
"I'll train harder," Nathan said as he turned to leave.
"Next time, I'll challenge you again — and even if I lose, my partners will fight with everything they have!"
Ash smiled faintly, recalling his own younger self.
"Heh… quite the attitude. Don't let me down," he said as he returned Charizard to its Poké Ball and walked off the field.
That night, Ash found himself alone in the quiet woods outside the tournament venue.
The moonlight filtered through the trees, and he lay on the cool grass, staring up at the sky.
The matches felt more and more meaningless. Every victory came too easily now. The thrill — the hunger — had faded.
"When I was weak, I wanted nothing more than to be strong," he thought.
"But now that I've reached this point… all I want are opponents who can make me feel alive again."
Few could do that anymore. Perhaps only the old Champions — trainers like Blaine — still had what it took to make him fight seriously.
"System," Ash murmured, a blade of grass between his lips, "I want to draw."
In an instant, his consciousness shifted into the System Space, a realm only he could access.
A glowing roulette appeared before him — and after a few spins, it stopped.
"…That's it?" he muttered, unimpressed. "What a lousy pull."
Frowning, he sighed and exited the System Space. The rewards were practically useless to him at this level.
Just as he stood to head back to his hotel, a sudden blast of fire tore through the darkness.
"Boom!"
Ash's reflexes kicked in immediately. His eyes flashed, transforming into the triple tomoe pattern of his special perception.
The flames halted midair — like they had struck an invisible barrier — and dispersed harmlessly.
"Who's there?" he demanded coldly, his voice sharp.
From behind a nearby tree, a shadow stirred.
"Hmph… truly impressive," a voice said smoothly.
"As expected of Kanto's youngest Champion. Your strength is… absurd."
Ash narrowed his eyes, instantly reading the figure's aura signature.
"You're Kyle Verenza, right?"
The man stepped out from the shadows, smirking.
"So you do know who I am. I didn't come here to cause trouble. I watched your match earlier, and I couldn't help myself — I wanted to see if the stories were true. The next round pairs you and me, after all."
Ash's lips curved slightly.
"So you're trying to intimidate me before the match? I've heard Cynthia mention you before — especially your childhood."
Kyle froze. "What—!? Cynthia told you about that?" His face turned crimson.
"She promised me she wouldn't tell anyone!"
Ash chuckled under his breath, amused by the outburst.
"Guess she broke that promise."
Kyle's embarrassment turned into fury.
"Tch! Damn it, Ash Ketchum — you'd better not underestimate me tomorrow!"
Ash gave a lazy wave as he turned to leave.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
As Kyle disappeared into the shadows, Ash exhaled softly, the corners of his mouth lifting.
For the first time in a while… he felt something stir inside him.
Maybe this next battle wouldn't be meaningless after all.
No way…
He used to be such a timid kid — always getting picked on, always the target of someone's jokes. For the longest time, Kyle Varenza was known as the boy everyone could trick.
Fortunately, under Cynthia's strict training, that weakness had been burned out of him.
If not for her guidance, the future successor of the Varenza Family would've grown up to be nothing more than a soft-hearted pushover.
Ash smirked faintly.
"Kid, your psychic power isn't bad… but you're still not there yet. Don't embarrass yourself tomorrow."
He tossed that line over his shoulder and took off toward the hotel, Pidgeot's wings cutting through the cool night air.
Watching Ash soar away with that confident grin, Kyle Varenza could only stand there speechless.
They were almost the same age — he was only a year younger than Ash — yet somehow, it felt natural for Ash to call him "kid."
...
When Ash returned to the hotel, Cynthia rushed over, worry written all over her face.
"Ash! Where have you been? You had me worried sick!"
Ash gave her an easy smile.
"Relax. I just went out for a walk. How are Sabrina and Suzie?"
"They've already gone to bed," Cynthia said, letting out a small sigh of relief. She lightly smacked his arm.
"You should check the time before sneaking off next time."
Ash followed her gesture and glanced at the clock on the wall — the hands pointed just past eleven.
He hadn't realized how long he'd been gone. What was supposed to be a short walk had turned into hours lost in thought.
...
TN:
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