[You defeated Grusha-san, Gym Leader of Glaseado Mountain. You defeated Rika, Paldea Elite Four! Rising Force has been strengthened!]

[Your Pokémon’s effort values and growth have increased significantly!]

The rematch also ended with Rika-nee-san’s “total defeat”—at least, that was how she saw it, and she couldn’t help feeling frustrated.

Why did it turn out like this…? The first time around, she’d finally built a team that could check Steel-types. She’d finally found a rival she could trade punches with.

Those two happy things overlapped…

So why did it end up like this?

Rika said, “That gigantic Pokémon is cheating. What even was that—your final ace?”

“I mean, if we’re battling head-on, sure, we should both go all out…”

“But you went way too all out!”

Hikaru said, “If you’re calling it an ace… that’s not exactly right, but it is one of my trump cards. I didn’t bring her out earlier mostly because Kaguya-ojou-sama is pretty shy around people.”

“But I only made it through the Black Tower thanks to her, too. She’s amazing, right? That heavy, sturdy body—Steel plus Flying—she’s beautiful!”

That was the charm of stats and typing. And what, does weight not count as a stat?

A steel princess either had absurd Special Attack nukes and some bugged-out Soul-Heart-tier power like Magearna…

Or, like Celesteela, she just crushed you with pure body mass.

“In a faraway region, she’s even called Princess Kaguya. She’s a Pokémon that shows up in ancient myths!”

Listening to Hikaru explain it all with sparkling enthusiasm, then looking at the shy Pokémon that had already retreated back into the Strange Ball labeled “Perfectly Ripe Mango,” Rika didn’t even know what to say anymore. She could only force a lopsided, helpless smile.

“Ha… another one tied to mythology, huh? But if we’re being strict about it, Gallade’s been called a ‘war god’ in old stories too.”

“It’s just that my strength isn’t enough yet… If I’d known, I would’ve sent out a Pokémon with Grass Knot. With something that heavy, Grass Knot would’ve ended it in one hit, right?”

Rika actually did have a Ground-type Pokémon that could use Grass Knot—Torterra.

That was the kind of Pokémon she only brought out when she was showing her real strength.

At the same time, she muttered under her breath:

[What does a mythological image have to do with a perfectly ripe mango? Huh… I don’t get it.]

She flicked her ponytail lightly and put her confident smile back on.

“Next time. Next time, I’ll win for sure.”

“Yeah. This time I took down one. Next time I’m taking down at least two of yours!”

Rika snapped her fingers, then conveniently lowered her “win condition,” took a deep breath, and exhaled.

“Whew. I feel better. The cold air on Glaseado Mountain really cools your head fast.”

“Rare sight,” Grusha said, clearly amused. “Elite Four members battling each other… I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”

Even so, his heart wavered again.

Rika had said Hikaru was strong, and he’d personally experienced getting cleanly shut out.

But now even another Elite Four member didn’t think she could fully beat him—she’d be satisfied just taking out two Pokémon.

That meant the gap between Rika and Hikaru was… a bit too big.

Of course, team composition mattered a lot, too.

And compared to her, the other two Elite Four members were one listless corporate wage slave, and another who had serious artistic chops—but also worked two jobs and somehow loved every second of it, like an energetic overtime addict.

When it came to battling, Rika was the one who was truly enthusiastic. The only other one like that was Hassel, the Dragon-type Elite Four member—but he was the type who put his whole heart into anything he did, then got moved to tears about it.

That wasn’t to say either of them was weak.

If anything—

Even back when the Elite Four roster had only been three people, Rika really was the weakest among them. She was the first interviewer in the Champion Assessment, and like Grusha, she was still in a “figuring things out” phase in her own domain—so in the testing flow, she naturally became the first Elite Four member challengers were meant to defeat.

Grusha hadn’t been a Gym Leader for long, but he’d already gotten a good read on the Elite Four’s personalities, temperaments, and bits of their… history.

After all, every year they came with Geeta to run tests, and some years there were three or even five rounds of testing.

But once more Champion-level Trainers started showing up, they’d probably send those kids over instead, right?

“So cold… no. Not cold at all.”

Still—he wasn’t going to go easy on anyone.

How far was he, really, from Champion level?

He’d keep confirming that through the battles to come.

Rika said, “It’s so nice. You almost never see a night this calm up on Glaseado Mountain—no wind, no snow, just a black, vast sky packed with glittering stars.”

“That’s all thanks to Volcarona,” Hikaru said. “It chased off the wind and snow around here.”

“Wait… was that a shooting star?”

“Come to think of it, we’ve been seeing meteors a lot lately. Like, way more than usual.”

They all looked up as several meteors streaked across the beautiful night sky.

That direction was…

“Hoenn…?” someone murmured.

Because of that supermassive meteor pulling in a whole swarm of smaller fragments, meteors were constantly falling into the atmosphere—so even other regions were seeing shooting stars more often.

Even so, Paldea had always been a place where you could see meteors fairly often.

A meteor seen after seven days and seven nights…

The Wishing Star of Seven Nights?

Heh. Jirachi’s waking time wasn’t that far off, was it?

If you counted the days, the Silver Conference had already opened.

After Ash finished traveling in Johto, it would be the Hoenn arc next.

Paldea was pretty far from Hoenn, but that supermassive meteor had dragged in more than just the main body—there was a whole belt of smaller asteroids with it.

Still, because of the blessing issue, those asteroids probably couldn’t invade this place—unless they were forcibly pulled down as a meteor shower. And if that happened, the impact would be limited anyway.

Meteor Shower was strong, sure. It literally called down meteors.

In the specials, Cyrus even reacted like, “Meteors? This is a Pokémon move?”—that’s how ridiculous he thought it was.

But compared to a real meteor swarm, it was still nothing but a toy.

[Partner. Your side is… a little dangerous.]

Deoxys’s voice echoed in Hikaru’s mind.

[The forbidden light has appeared again. The Prism Star is flashing. The light released after Volcarona evolved… something captured it.]

[That powerful energy crossed the distant universe and countless timespaces, and it’s searching.]

[There’s no doubt it’s the “Necrozma” you mentioned before. But I can feel a violent will and a wave inside it—like a furious wind sweeping across far-off space… and maybe it’s not just one wave.]

“Necrozma locked onto Volcarona’s light?”

Hikaru stared at the meteors in the distance, but his thoughts churned.

That’s not how the script is supposed to go.

The light Necrozma likes should be—

The beast that devours the sun: Solgaleo.

The beast that calls the moon: Lunala.

They were the legendary cosmic Pokémon, symbols of the sun and moon. And while they didn’t truly have “authority” or “divine dominion,” their light resembled the sun and moon enough that people called them that.

It was also where the joke came from—”Sun god fears fire, moon god fears ghosts”—because they weren’t real sun-and-moon gods.

But Necrozma was different.

It really was the “Radiant One.”

Long ago, after being cleaved apart and losing part of itself, it fell into a berserk state—craving light, devouring light. And the targets it hunted were individuals with intense light sources… and even entire worlds.

To be specific, the lower bound was at least regional-scale light—enough to strip the light from an entire region.

And the upper bound?

A whole large world.

“If it captures the lion-like Solgaleo, it becomes that Dusk Mane scorpion-lion form.”

“If it captures the bat-like Lunala, it becomes that Dawn Wings eight-eyed bat form.”

“So if it captures Volcarona… what would it be called?”

“Dawn Butterfly? Sunset Wings?”

Seriously—does this little bug get that kind of prestige? Getting targeted by the so-called god of light?

Even if it had a ‘god’ nickname, it was still basically just a high-tier ordinary Pokémon—wasn’t even one of those late-bloomers.

Strictly speaking, Volcarona and Arcanine sat at the same table: pseudo-legends.

Sure, it could drive away blizzards and illuminate dark worlds…

But it wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the level of those two sun-and-moon beasts’ brightness, right?

“So it’s gotten less picky now. Since a new sun-and-moon beast hasn’t been born, it found a lower-tier substitute?”

“But timeline-wise, it shouldn’t be able to cross distant time and space and come to Alola in this world.”

“Still, under parallel-world theory, there are many Necrozma. That means they’ve illuminated different worlds… and the sun and moon themselves belong to four worlds—well, honestly, more than that.”

“In the games, the Ultra Recon Squad even mentioned ‘a world directly adjacent to Alola’—which basically refers to the Reverse World.”

And in Pokémon Masters?

It was even more absurd.

Shiny Necrozma was practically mass-produced. Every Alola kid had one. Go on—try telling me Alola can’t contend for the strongest regional power.

Elio and Selene, one each. Tell me the Alola League doesn’t have insane value.

Who dares call it a backwater league?

Send in the Necrozma army—two slaps and it’s over.

What kind of level are your other regions’ Champions at? You don’t even have a Legendary and you’re talking big?

[Anyway, I’ve used psychic power to mask the Prism Star’s light. That should make them lose the trail.]

Deoxys could locate minds with psychic power, so of course it could also “hide” something psychically and make other psychic users unable to find it.

That’s the thing about Psychic-type—battle-wise it can be underwhelming, but in day-to-day life it’s completely broken.

[This Prism Star seems to be resonating with Necrozma’s energy. In other words, it’s regathering light sources. Each time you use it, elemental energy gathers into light, and it’s like you’re igniting this shard again.]

“This thing was payment from the Link Tree. It was something that fell into the Linked World a long time ago… so yeah, maybe it’s a piece of Necrozma’s body—the part it lost.”

“The Necrozma out there now is just a berserk, pitch-black husk that craves and devours light.”

“The Prism Star’s shape is the same as a Z-Crystal. And Z-Crystals are minerals formed from Necrozma’s energy and light.”

[Z-Crystals… You’ve mentioned them a bunch of times, but I’ve never actually seen one. Next time we enter the dream world, I’ll see if the owner of Exeggutor Island is around and ask. I think seeing the real thing would help me understand.]

[But I have to say—when the Prism Star releases light, and when Volcarona releases light, I feel like I grow as well.]

[For cosmic life like us, light is indispensable. The attributes that represent light, in order, are Psychic, Fire, Electric, and Fairy.]

“Aibo! Do you want more star power? This trip to Area Zero might pay off!”

[Aibo? Ah—partner. But… it sounds a little different from how you usually say it.]

“Same meaning. Just a slightly different pronunciation. Think of it as a custom accent I made just for you.”

“When we enter Area Zero together, the moment we truly become light is coming. It’s the light called ‘Stellar’!”

The Great Crater of Paldea’s English name was literally Great Crater of Paldea—and “crater” meant a volcanic crater or meteor crater.

And as everyone knew, there was nothing volcanic about what lay inside Paldea’s crater, so the implication was pretty straightforward.

Maybe two million years ago, a massive meteor struck here, shifting the crust. It brought Tera power—and wiped out the ancient turtle Pokémon. The ones that survived gained the power and radiance of Stellar light.

In the Zero Labyrinth, you could even pick up items you usually found in meteor craters and space-related locations—Stardust, Star Pieces.

And once Terapagos entered its Stellar state, it looked like a star floating in space.

[But I’m worried about one thing. The Prism Star’s light energy comes from deep space—even I benefit.]

[So that member of my kind who pushed that giant meteor here… wouldn’t it also notice this light, and then do something irrational because of it?]

“Something irrational… ah. Right. The thousand-year comet?”

Come to think of it, something really might happen soon.

The thousand-year comet was coming back.

Jirachi’s movie—Jirachi: Wish Maker—came right after the Water Capital guardians arc.

The so-called thousand-year comet was a massive comet that appeared in the Pokémon world only once every thousand years, observable for seven consecutive nights after it appeared. Its power was closely tied to Jirachi, and its energy was used to maintain balance in the Pokémon world.

But the thousand-year comet was too powerful. There was no way Deoxys could control it.

Even if that alien hauling the massive meteor was level 80—hell, even if it were level 180—it still wouldn’t be able to control it.

“At most, it could absorb the comet’s light and raise its level to…”

Level 100?!

Sure, level 100 was terrifying.

But it wasn’t like Hikaru had never seen a monster at that level.

Even the strongest Gyarados in the Safari Zone was level 100—at least by game logic.

Of course, in reality, a level 100 Gyarados couldn’t fight a level 100 alien lifeform. One Thunder Punch and it’d drop, and anyone who didn’t know better would think it was faking it.

Or maybe…

They’d create something like a “sky demon” or whatever.

[I can feel danger approaching. In the journeys ahead, when we enter truly dangerous territory, let me fight.]

It wasn’t a Danger Sense Ability, but Deoxys still felt it strongly: it needed to talk properly with its kin in the sky.

Before that, getting stronger was the priority.

“Awooo!” A delighted cry came from nearby, drawing everyone’s attention.

Rika looked surprised.

“Hey—that Dragonite… it was still here?”

Earlier, that thing had come barreling in from afar shouting about “where’s my student,” then silently stayed to watch the entire battle from the side.

Judging by Aerodactyl’s expression, that wild, chonky sensei seemed pretty satisfied with the fight.

So it had just watched the follow-up battles, too.

After all, it was a level 75 bloodthirsty Pokémon. That Steel Tera “axe” on its head—did anyone think it got that for free?

A high level like that wasn’t a gift from the sky. Sensei Chonk had fought its way up around Glaseado Mountain.

This meteor-filled night was truly beautiful.

“Awooo!” Sensei Chonk let out another pleased sound.

After a battle, enjoying the scenery was the reward you earned.

Hikaru’s eyes suddenly lit up. “This thing is strong! Oh—when I leave Paldea, if someone challenges the League and I can’t get back in time, I’ll just have Dragonite-sensei cover my shift. Steel Tera is still Steel, right?”

Rika was speechless. “You… are you seriously planning on doing zero work? Paldea Elite Four substitute… is a Dragonite?”

Grusha clutched his head. “I don’t really see the problem. My Cetoddle gets mistaken for the Gym Leader all the time. When I have it greet students, it always runs to the battle court early anyway.”

Rika blinked. “Wait… yeah. We didn’t see your Cetoddle today.”

Grusha laughed. “We’re not at the gym right now. Of course Cetoddle is back at the gym, holding down the fort.”

At that moment, Dragonite seemed to “advise” Aerodactyl about something—like it was teaching moves and fundamentals—then it looked at the group and gave a thumbs-up.

“It agreed,” Hikaru said, turning to Rika, who looked utterly stunned. “If the League is short-handed, come find this Dragonite.”

“Besides, Paldea isn’t exactly lacking employed Dragonite.”

In the Dragonite mail carrier short, there was even a “swift courier” working at the Paldea post office.

In just a few hours, it could cross all nine main regions, flying from Paldea all the way to Kanto across the sea—and apparently it even picked up a shiny along the way.

If your Dragonite can work at a post office, then honestly, it’s a tradition that started with Mewtwo.

So I’ll ask you—

Why can’t your Dragonite be Elite Four?

Level 75 isn’t strong enough? The first-playthrough Elite Four don’t even come close; their average levels are like low 50s to low 60s.

Rika froze, then blurted out, “Hah?! But Dragonite can’t do overtime!”

Hikaru nodded like he’d just remembered something important. “Oh, right. It’s illiterate. It can’t write.”

Sensei Chonk didn’t know what “secret move” it had taught Aerodactyl, but Aerodactyl flapped its wings and vanished beyond the horizon. Aerodactyl roared twice as a sendoff for its cheap new teacher, then immediately started complaining nonstop.

Damn it—this guy told my rock head to charge straight into its Steel Tera axe! I mean, seriously, Rock typing is basically original sin!

Hikaru said, “So it’s a Seven-style ‘Slugger Alien,’ huh!”

Sever really was everywhere.

Thus, the seven-days-and-seven-nights training segment came to a close.

Near the Glaseado Mountain climbing trail, they recovered at the Pokémon Center. Then they rested for a night at the Glaseado Gym, exchanging insights from the battle.

At the same time, they carefully studied—and wrote up—the report on Annihilape.

It was Rika’s first time participating in a researcher-style report, so she threw herself into it enthusiastically, helping Hikaru keep detailed records.

Hikaru said, “For the investigation into Rage Fist… the local ‘climate and character’ of different regions may influence whether Pokémon can learn certain moves.”

“In some places, because the environment is different, Pokémon may develop different learnable moves as they grow.”

Rika said, “We believe…”

“It’s precisely because of those differences that even the same Pokémon can master different techniques in different regions. The evidence supports itself.”

“Therefore, under environmental stimulation, Pokémon that comprehend entirely new moves may also complete entirely new evolutions in new regional conditions!”

Hikaru said, “And that kind of evolution might not be confirmed by recently discovered evolutionary stones—because if a Pokémon hasn’t mastered a certain move under a given regional environment, it can be treated as not having met the evolution condition.”

“In that case, the cells and potential in its body haven’t been fully activated yet…”

“And some moves only appear under specific regional conditions.”

In Hikaru’s eyes, that neatly explained why veteran species from older generations could suddenly evolve after new moves were added.

The birth of new moves, driven by regional conditions—that was the key.

Regional conditions had always been a major setting pillar of the Pokémon world.

The earliest example of form differences caused by regional conditions probably traced back to a Pokémon in Sinnoh—Gastrodon.

Rika said, “For example, as a comparison group: in Sinnoh, Mount Coronet splits the region into eastern and western areas with very different climates. A Pokémon called Gastrodon shows differences between its East Sea and West Sea forms.”

“That’s something between a regional form and a non-regional form.”

“Then… would my Clodsire be the same kind of example? Or is it different?”

Hikaru said, “Following that logic, based on existing investigations: in the distant past, Gastrodon’s entire back was covered by a hard shell, using it to protect its body—but now it isn’t. That’s a strong piece of supporting evidence that changes in regional conditions can alter a Pokémon’s form.”

Thump, thump… fwoosh—

Outside the Glaseado Gym, the Pokémon chatted with each other about what they’d learned in battle and shared delicious food.

The apprentice little knight, the hero Charcadet, swung its hammer—huffing flames—recasting its shattered armor.

The fourth demon lord was waiting ahead!

When morning arrived on the second day, golden light broke across the land.

From the peak of Glaseado Mountain, a black shadow flickered—and flew toward the distant Socarrat Trail.

——————

Northwest of Mesagoza, Paldea League.

Geeta looked at the printed report in her hand and smiled with satisfaction.

“Professor Juniper-sensei, please register this newly discovered Pokémon in the Paldea Pokédex as well.”

“Our cooperation has expanded again. Another important academic achievement—how auspicious.”

Professor Juniper-sensei studied the report closely.

“This is an excellent viewpoint, and the conclusions absolutely hold up under scrutiny! Classic Hikaru.”

“Another new evolution has been discovered! Uh, after data collection and research are complete, send the data over to Professor Rowan-sensei…”

“But I have to say,” Professor Juniper-sensei added, glancing at the mountain of paperwork stacked in front of her, “I feel like I’ve been working overtime for a very long time.”

“I-I’m not even this region’s Professor, you know?”

(End of Chapter)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep