By shattering Drake's thirty-year reign, Zeth has officially become the youngest Champion in recorded history, a title that puts him in a category of his own, far above the prodigies the League usually boasts about.
The atmosphere in Pummelo Stadium shifts from shock to a frenzied, historical hysteria. The realization is hitting the spectators, the media, and the League officials: a teenager who hasn't even reached adulthood just dismantled a Level 70 Champion-tier team.
Reporters are screaming into their microphones, their voices cracking. "A miracle at Pummelo! At only fifteen years old, Zeth has achieved what thousands of Senior and Elite trainers failed to do over three decades! We are looking at the new ceiling for the human trainer species!"
The deafening roar of the crowd is a physical wall of sound, but for Zeth, it's distant. At fifteen years old, he stands in the center of the cooling crater, the youngest Champion in the history of the League, surrounded by a team that looks more like a small army than a roster of pets.
The transition from battle to politics is immediate. The Mayor of Pummelo, a man whose hands are visibly trembling, scurries forward with a heavy, velvet-lined ceremonial cape. He stops short, hesitating as he glances at the Black-Tier Charizard that still huffs emerald-rimmed embers.
"Zeth... Champion Zeth," the Mayor stammers, his voice barely carrying over the frenzy of the fans. "The world is watching. We need... we need to certify the victory. The Hall of Fame. The coronation. You've just rewritten fifteen hundred years of League history."
Beside him, a high-ranking League Delegate in a crisp, charcoal suit steps forward, adjusting his glasses while frantically typing on a tablet. "He's right. At fifteen, you've shattered the previous age record held by the elite families. The funding, the sponsorships, the A-Rank Gate clearances... they are all yours, provided we can get you to the podium for the broadcast."
Drake, the defeated Champion, pushes his way through the gathering crowd of officials. He looks at the "Deep Gold" and "Black" potential signatures of Zeth's team, then locks eyes with the teenager.
"Don't let them turn you into a trophy, kid," Drake rasps, his voice low enough only for Zeth to hear. "They see a fifteen-year-old they can mold into a 'Hero of the People.' But I saw what you did with that Core. You aren't a hero. You're an anomaly."
The Lead Reporter for the Holo-Caster, a woman named Sloane, thrusts a microphone toward the edge of the crater, her cameramen hovering on drones. "Zeth! One word for the children watching across the regions! How does it feel to be the strongest person of your generation before even graduating high school?"
The pressure is mounting. The civilians are chanting Zeth's name, their voices a rhythmic thrum that shakes the very glass beneath his feet.
The Mayor holds out the ceremonial microphone, his eyes pleading. He needs a "Hero Champion" to stabilize the islands' economy. The League Delegate is waiting to see if Zeth is someone they can control. The Civilians are waiting for a legend.
Zeth looks at his team. They aren't interested in the capes or the cameras. They are waiting for the next order.
Zeth stands in the center of the obsidian crater, the weight of the Champion's cape draped over his shoulders by the Mayor, who is nearly vibrating with nervous energy. The emerald glow of his Aura has faded, leaving him looking remarkably human for someone who just rewrote the laws of physics.
At fifteen, his face still carries the remnants of youth, but his eyes are those of a man who has looked into the void and stared it down. Sloane, the Holo-Caster reporter, signals her drones to move in closer, the red "Live" light blinking like a heartbeat.
"The world is waiting, Zeth," Sloane whispers, her voice breathless. "Tell them. Tell them how a fifteen-year-old achieves the impossible."
Zeth takes the microphone. He doesn't smile for the cameras, and he doesn't strike a heroic pose. He looks at the thousands of faces in the stands, then down at the blackened scales of Drake's Dragonite being treated nearby.
"I didn't get here because I'm a 'prodigy' or because the stars aligned," Zeth's voice carries through the stadium, cold and stripped of pretense. "I got here because while most people my age were playing at being trainers, I was surviving. This title isn't a gift. It's a result of the grind."
The crowd goes silent. This isn't the inspirational "believe in your dreams" speech they expected from a teenager.
"Being a Champion at fifteen doesn't mean I've reached the peak," Zeth continues, looking directly into the lens of the primary drone. "It means I've just earned the right to see how much further the mountain goes. To the people watching: don't look for miracles. Look for the work."
He hands the microphone back to the stunned Mayor. The League Delegate looks pale, already realizing that Zeth isn't going to be the "compliant poster boy" they can use to sell lunchboxes. Drake, however, lets out a short, bark-like laugh of approval.
With the "honesty" out of the way, Zeth retreats to the Champion's private quarters under the stadium. He's not here for the champagne; he's here for the resources. He immediately utilizes his new Champion-tier clearance to requisition high-density energy supplements and specialized training weights.
he Ancient Dragon Marrow (Potential Jump): Zeth sits in front of Rhydon (Lvl 53). He breaks the seal on the Ancient Dragon Marrow. The prehistoric essence glows with a dull, tectonic orange.
The Process: As Rhydon consumes the marrow, his stone-like hide begins to vibrate. The Deep Purple potential is forced to expand.
The Result: [POTENTIAL UPGRADE: RHYDON IS NOW SOLID GOLD.] His physical frame thickens, and his horn takes on a metallic, obsidian sheen.
2. The Level 60 Barrier Push: Zeth coordinates a brutal, high-intensity sparring session within the stadium's private B-Rank simulation chamber.
Toxicroak (Lvl 59): Sparring against the Black-Tier Charizard, Toxicroak is forced to move at speeds that defy biology.
[LEVEL UP: TOXICROAK REACHES LVL 60.] He officially breaches the Elite 4 threshold. His Poison Touch ability now carries a neurotoxic frequency that can paralyze a target in seconds.
The Mayor and the League Delegate knock on the door, holding a stack of "Emergency Taskings" for the new Champion. They have reports of a C-Rank Gate instability on a nearby island and a list of social appearances.
"Champion Zeth," the Delegate says through the door. "The civilians are gathered at the harbor to see you off. There's a parade planned. Also, we have the first set of administrative duties regarding the Archipelago's defense budget."
Zeth looks at the Perfection-Tier Dragon Scale sitting safely in his lead-lined case, saved for a future elite. He has the power, he has the title, and he has a team that is rapidly approaching a uniform Level 60 average.