The moment the test device announced its result, the entire sports field went dead silent.
That silence lasted only a heartbeat.
Then it shattered.
"That's unbelievable!"
"A self-created move — and it's that powerful already? She hasn't even evolved into Gardevoir yet. What happens when she does?"
"She broke the thing. She actually broke it!"
The students of First High School watching from the sidelines erupted into noise, one voice tumbling over the next. Kirlia's performance had been nothing short of stunning, and it had been delivered right in front of the visiting Sakura exchange group — a public, unmistakable demonstration of what the Eastern Alliance's trainers were capable of.
Those who truly understood how test devices worked were the most shaken of all.
Every thousand-point increment on a test device served as a meaningful benchmark — a small but important threshold that separated tiers of power. Kirlia had blown straight past ten thousand, leaving every other contestant behind without contest.
The device David had been using for the evaluation was a second-tier model, built to comfortably withstand attacks from Pokémon at the first professional stage. Five thousand points marked the baseline for that level — professional-tier, the point at which a trainer's Pokémon could be considered fit for serious competition.
For reference, the Gallade that had gone before Kirlia had managed to leave only a faint white scratch along the device's outer casing. Among Pokémon at the first professional stage, that result was actually respectable. It meant the Gallade's move had real power behind it.
Kirlia's move had left the outer casing deeply scarred.
Those who noticed swallowed hard.
Ordinarily, ten thousand points represented the upper limit for a Pokémon performing at the peak of the first professional stage — and even that required exceptional circumstances. But Kirlia's output had clearly gone beyond that ceiling, pushing into territory that simply didn't belong to this stage of development.
The reason such a leap in power is rare is well understood in the competitive community: for a professional-level Pokémon to advance to the Gym level, it must first complete a fundamental transformation of its internal energy — a process that is as demanding as it is rare. That transformation is precisely why Gym-level Pokémon are so dramatically stronger than professional-level ones, and why they are encountered so much less often.
Even David, who had built a reputation for winning battles against opponents ranked above him, could not yet close that gap through raw force alone. If every Pokémon on his team were to attack a Gym-level opponent at the same time, it still would not be enough. That was the nature of the divide — a qualitative difference, not merely a quantitative one.
There was one scenario David could theoretically imagine: if Kirlia evolved into Gardevoir, activated Dark Mode, then underwent Mega Evolution and linked with him through Aura — perhaps together they could bridge it. But even thinking through that scenario made clear how extreme the cost would be. Both the Aura link and Mega Evolution placed enormous demands on a trainer's stamina, and stacking the two would push any ordinary trainer past their limit.
David was different. He had already developed the Heavenly Aura Physique, which was the only reason he could even consider combining those two enhancements without collapsing from the strain. Anyone else who attempted it — even if they had the technical ability — would burn through their reserves completely and have nothing left to show for it.
Kirlia's attack output, in other words, was already equivalent to that of a Pokémon at the very peak of the first professional stage, right on the cusp of its first energy transformation. Compared to the other contestants in today's evaluation, she was operating on an entirely different level.
This was common knowledge among those experienced with test devices. The Sakura Alliance's delegation knew it perfectly well — which was exactly why they were so unsettled.
More than a few of them had been quietly running the same calculation: what would have happened if David had sent out Kirlia in the battle a week ago instead?
The answer was genuinely unclear.
Kirlia was far more agile than Salamence, and her output — at least in terms of powerful moves — appeared to be comparable, possibly even higher. But there was a significant limitation to consider: Kirlia did not have Salamence's endurance. In a long, grinding match that stretched past thirty exchanges, the outcome could easily tip the other way.
In a straight one-on-one battle, however, there was no question that this Kirlia was a formidable opponent — one that could challenge even Salamence head-to-head.
"Well done, Kirlia."
David kept his voice even, but the satisfaction behind it was genuine. The move — Dark Moon — had come a long way from its early form. The refinement it showed today was Kirlia's own work, the result of patient, careful training that David had guided but that Kirlia herself had driven.
He let his gaze drift to the side, just briefly, toward the Sakura delegation. Their expressions were tight. David said nothing, but the corner of his mouth curved slightly.
They had wanted to see what his other Pokémon could do. He had obliged.
David had suspected from the start that the Sakura group had spent time digging up information on him during their stay. He also suspected they'd been careful about how they did it — they were clearly aware that entering Cloudspire meant operating under observation, so they had avoided Sakura 's discreet channels and relied instead on their own legwork.
Which explained why they had nothing useful to show for it. His records within the Cloudspire Alliance were classified. Conventional investigation methods weren't going to crack that.
So they still didn't know his team lineup. That was exactly as David had intended.
As for whether showing Dark Moon today had given anything away — David was unbothered. This move would appear in the high school league regardless. Concealing it now would gain him nothing.
Besides, anyone trying to prepare a counter strategy based on today's display would be making a mistake. They had no way of knowing whether Kirlia had used her full power. And they almost certainly weren't accounting for the fact that Kirlia also had access to both Swift and Adamant modes.
David recalled Kirlia to her Poké Ball and stepped down from the platform with an unhurried calm.
The point had been made. For at least the next month, at Imperial Capital First High School, the Sakura exchange teams would think twice before putting on a show of confidence.
What they did after moving on to other schools was no longer his problem.
The test device had done most of the evaluators' work for them. More than half of the applicants had been eliminated by the objective score cutoff alone, which left a manageable pool for the actual battles that followed. The selection moved quickly from there.
When the dust settled, the school team roster was confirmed.
David was among the five named to the main roster, as expected. The remaining spots went to Emery, the Samurott trainer who had grown close with Willow; a trainer named Aspen, who seemed to know Luke well; and the sisters Laurissa and Laurene, a pair who specialized in double battles. David had a rough sense of what each of them was capable of, and the results aligned with what he had anticipated.
One minor surprise: the trainer who had entered with a Poochyena — the same one David's Zorua had defeated in an instant — had made it onto the reserve list.
David had not expected that. Getting this far with a Poochyena — or rather, a Mightyena now — was no small thing.
With that, the school team selection was officially complete. A few days of the standard public announcement period remained. As long as none of the selected members was challenged and beaten in that window, the roster for First High School's high school league entry would be locked in.