The Pseudo-Elite-tier Dreepy converted its long-axis frame into a blazing draconic meteor, rocketing down a terminal line to collide heavily against Dracozolt.
BOOM!
The direct hit from the Dragon Dart exploded violently across the chimera's torso. Upon impact, the primary Dreepy bounced backward several paces, destabilizing its kinetic pathways until it landed flatly on its rear across the flagstones.
"How anomalous... that Dreepy has completely bypassed its evolutionary stages, yet its code successfully parsed and executed the Dragon Dart subroutine."
"Furthermore, identify the structural anomaly—why is a secondary infant Dreepy resting directly atop its cranium launchpad?"
"The raw piercing torque of that Dragon Dart is absurdly high. It commanded enough kinetic momentum to forcefully drive Proctor Victor's massive Dracozolt backward several meters."
The surrounding masked traditionalists of the Dragon Clan unraveled into an intense, whispering technical debate.
"Dreepy, submerge your energetic signature using Shadow Sneak," Feng Che instructed calmly, his voice flat behind his mask.
The stealth phantom given the command smoothly dissolved its physical mass into thousands of independent ribbons of dark ghost energy, completely expunging its coordinates from the visible arena floorboards within fractions of a second.
"Dracozolt, initialize Electric Terrain! Use the grounding lines to sense every single micro-movement across their grid," Proctor Victor commanded sharply. Thick beads of cold sweat caked his calloused palms as his internal stress metrics spiked.
Dracozolt violently fanned its lightning wings, unchaining torrents of raw electrical voltage that fluidly coursed across the broken floorboards, scattering billions of crackling golden plasma arcs into the immediate airspace.
These stray electric arcs functioned meticulously like an airborne radar matrix grid. The exact millisecond Dreepy's phantom framework breached the shadow planes to launch a close-quarters assault, the current interruption would instantaneously flag its spatial entry coordinates to Dracozolt's processors, authorizing an immediate counter-strike.
Exactly what lineage or corporate backing bankrolls this masked brat? My database houses absolute zero tracking metrics regarding his profile, Proctor Victor analyzed grimly, his jaw tight.
Yet, by global constitutional decree, only a native clansman natively commanding the authentic Destruction-variant Dragon Force of our Unovan bloodline can clear the perimeter gates to reach this inner sanctuary.
Had a foreign traditionalist from Kanto or Hoenn attempted to cross the threshold, the sheer divine majesty radiating from the Black and White Dragon Deities would have long since locked their nervous systems down via pure psychological suppression.
I have served as a premier Proctor within this clan for decades, yet my memory files contain zero records of a monster of this caliber ever incubating within our secondary branches.
Who under heaven is he? To field an unevolved Deino and a baseline Dreepy that comfortably demonstrate this level of apocalyptic combat torque... it defies calculation.
A profound tragedy... My biological older brother, Zinzolin, historically operated as the undisputed absolute strongest master traditionalist dominating the Dragon Clan.
Had his brainless scion, Feng Lu, not staged his catastrophic self-exile decades ago—ruining his growth track—our house would have comfortably consolidated its leverage to seize the Patriarch's scepter, rather than letting Drayden rule the clan.
Could this masked brat standing across my ring be the long-lost Feng Lu?
Feng Lu had historically elected to sheathe his identity beneath his biological mother's lineage name. Exactly twenty winters ago, Zinzolin was verified as the single most powerful, apex-tier martial engine anchoring the Unovan Dragon Clan.
He had comfortably locked his performance metrics within the high-tier Elite Four bracket at an exceptionally youthful age. Yet, right when his console initialized a deep meditative retreat to force a qualitative breakthrough into the Champion Master tiers, the central tracking arrays logged the sudden, mysterious disappearance of Feng Lu.
To trace and salvage the broken coordinates of that unrefined son, Zinzolin had systematically exhausted his entire reservoir of political and ancestral capital.
He didn't merely abdicate his guaranteed succession track as the next Chosen Patriarch; he went so far as to manually align his military assets with Team Plasma—a radical defection that caked his lineage in permanent institutional disgrace across the clan books.
During that specific historical epoch, Team Plasma's operational infrastructure was remarkably compact, completely lacking the heavily armed division networks of the contemporary Seven Sages.
It was siphoned through Zinzolin's elite genetic data passes and advanced baseline tutoring that the syndicate successfully stabilized and cultivated the combat engine of their Sovereign King, N, while concurrently scaling dozens of secondary grunt units into high-tier traditionalists.
Meanwhile, perched atop the external ridge line, Elder Zinzolin audited the proctor's shifting expressions through his brass binoculars.
"The boy's martial density is exceptional... but his biological markers confirm he is definitively not my Feng Lu. From which black-market nursery did the League harvest this rogue?"
"Though... that infant Deino commanding his lead slot appears remarkably familiar. Is it the exact same hatchling my scanners logged semesters ago across the outer wild tracks?"
"Could he be the legendary, newly coronated Rank 1 Dragon Elite that the World League Supreme Council explicitly transferred to the Unova Region?"
"During our initial encounter when he siphoned that Deino from the wild grids, his baseline combat index failed to clear even the entry thresholds of the standard Gym tier. For his stable to consolidate authentic Elite-border combat torque within this minimal chronological window... the velocity of his progression is terrifyingly apocalyptic."
Zinzolin's expression turned noticeble grave behind his binoculars. He calculated that Feng Che's covert infiltration into the Dragon Festival mapped precisely as a high-priority black-budget conspiracy engineered by the World League Supreme Board to violently dismantle the clan's autonomy.
"Dreepy, unchain Shadow Claw!"
Dozens of independent, spectral obsidian claws violently erupted directly out from Dracozolt's own shadow block, interlocking like an iron cage to bind the chimera's lower motor limbs to the flagstones.
Dracozolt unchained a frenzied surge of high-voltage currents from its core, the violent electrical feedback aggressively burning out and shattering the ghost-energy claws into fine dregs.
Consumed by feral irritation, the chimera systematically manipulated the crackling current, converting the electrical plasma into millions of high-density Rising Voltage pins that completely saturated the ground planes.
Sustained beneath the multi-layered multipliers of the active Electric Terrain, the torrential electrical storm violently overrode and pulverized Dreepy's subterranean shadow channels.
Decompressed from its hiding coordinates, Dreepy was forcefully driven back out into the open airspace.
"Dracozolt, terminate their matrix—Volt Tackle!"
Dracozolt violently fanned its small wing-bolts. Millions of volts of raw, unmitigated electrical energy accumulated flawlessly over its yellow beak module, projecting a cataclysmic, blinding column of lightning straight down the center channel.
The structural geometry of this strike meticulously mirrors the kinetic execution line of a high-yield Railgun, Feng Che calculated smoothly, his visor recording the data deflection.
The blinding plasma beam morphed mid-air into an inescapable, crackling cage of lightning that roared forward to engulf the stealth phantom.
"Dreepy, deploy Substitute."
The stealth ghost quietly parsed a minute allocation of its health indicators to format a high-fidelity decoy replica, smoothly shifting its authentic baseline coordinates deep back within a minor shadow fold parallel to the track.
The torrential lightning column completely vaporized and swallowed the Dreepy illusion, leaving the ground scorched.
The exact millisecond Dracozolt's processors initialized a resting loop to buffer the energy drain, a pristine Dragon Dart violently launched out from the chimera's own shadow block.
The high-velocity projectile scored a point-blank, crushing impact straight into Dracozolt's cranial module.
The chimera sustained the direct hit like a sudden stroke of lightning, its primitive brain walls buzzing in severe cognitive distortion as its motor lines entered a temporary stasis block.
Without a single frame of delay, a continuous, rapid-fire succession of secondary Dragon Darts aggressively hammered its torso.
The independent infant Dreepy nodes composing the ammunition payload violently detonated their ghost-energy matrices the precise microsecond they made material contact with Dracozolt's green hide, systematically injecting thick clouds of pure, high-purity spiritual malice straight into its vascular system.
Thick sheets of dark spectral frost began rapidly crystallizing across the chimera's armored flanks, its neurological pathways freezing under the ghost-type payload. Its consciousness degraded at an accelerated velocity, its movements turning noticeble heavy and uncoordinated.
THUD!
Its massive lower legs collapsed beneath its weight, and the Galarian monstrosity fell head-first onto the shattered flagstones, its active indicators registering total, unresponsive syncope.
"An uncompromised masterpiece of tactical pathing, entrant. For your console to systematically dismantle my core vanguard roster by deploying nothing more than a pair of unevolved infant pseudo-legendaries... it represents an extraordinary data feat," Proctor Victor praised genuinely, clicking his terminal to authorize the automated recall of his broken chimera.
"Our ancestral house has lacked a hidden dragon master commanding an execution index of this caliber for an extensive chronological timeline."
"Accept this validation bonus from my house—a high-purity, maximum-density Dragon Crystal core."
"This artifact was historically siphoned and passed to my command as a personal gift from my older brother, Zinzolin. Tonight, my office officially transfers this sovereign resource onto your ledger."
"I pray your vanguard encounters absolute zero friction across the impending trials of the crucible."
Having finalized the data transfer, Proctor Victor clipped his spheres to his belt, turning on his heel to smoothly exit the ring perimeters.
Feng Che caught the heavy crystal orb, his visor running a real-time chemical audit across its facets. The stone was engineered meticulously to mirror a pristine, fossilized Dragon Scale, pulsing with immense elemental aura.
"An exceptional, top-tier biological catalyst to accelerate the muscle synthesis of a Dragon-type companion. Dreepy, siphon this resource into your core," Feng Che instructed flatly, tossing the crystal down his shadow.
Dreepy unhinged its jaws, effortlessly swallowing the maximum-density Dragon Crystal whole into its internal furnace.
A split-second later, its entire bipedal chassis violently shuddered, a bright flash of violet energetic light unraveling across its head pad. As the luminescence stabilized, an entirely new, independent secondary Dreepy node materialized flawlessly, nesting its small body directly parallel to the initial infant across its launcher crests.
Sustained beneath the rich nutrient density siphoned from the Dragon Crystal, the ghost dragon's framework had successfully initiated a cellular division loop, generating an additional independent spirit core out from its marrow.
These auxiliary split-souls functioned as the absolute, non-negotiable anatomical components required for its framework to comfortably authorize future multi-stage evolutionary rewrites into Drakloak and Dragapult.
"Excellently executed, partner. Return to my shadow layer and initialize a recovery cycle," Feng Che murmured, lightly patting the stealth phantom's smooth snout before siphoning its mass back into his shadow pocket.
Up along the external mountain ridges, Elder Zinzolin lowered his brass binoculars, a low sigh escaping his chest plates.
"To think that foolish Victor would casually liquidate the high-purity Dragon Crystal my house bankrolled for him, transferring the asset directly to an unindexed challenger..."
"It appears the boy's performance parameters completely overrode his professional skepticism."
He whistled softly to his Kommo-o, turning away from the arena track. "Let us transition our coordinates, my sweet girl. Our vanguard must deploy deep within the interior chambers of the Dragon's Den ahead of the pack; my office intends to harvest an immense mountain of ancient elemental resources to pack your slots."
"Your current consumption metrics are thoroughly preposterous; your seasonal feed requirements are on the verge of driving my private corporate bank ledger into total insolvency."
Zinzolin muttered the traditional complaints softly, though his words earned him nothing more than a deeply sarcastic, highly amused side-glare from his armored dragon partner as they vanished into the cavern shadows.
Having successfully finalized his verification check across Ring 002, Feng Che followed the automated directional markers deployed by the clan managers, smoothly navigating into a vast, high-clearance assembly hall.
The cavernous stone chamber was already heavily packed with dozens of masked traditionalists sheathed inside identical black traveling cloaks, their silent, shrouded silhouettes waiting for the next phase of the gauntlet to unlock.
Feng Che casually scanned the geometry of the room, selecting an isolated, low-traffic block directly parallel to the rear granite walls. Leaning his torso against the stone, he closed his eyes, dropping his system into a low-power meditative state to preserve his parameters as he waited for the second trial to initialize.