The way Argenti and Sushang raised their Pokémon gave them a natural, instinctive edge on the Contest floor.
Meanwhile, Guinaifen held the hardened pedigree of a reigning Elite Four member.
Every one of the remaining three contenders was a powerhouse, fully capable of seizing the championship cup.
Looking down the bracket, March 7th felt as if the road ahead had hit a sheer cliff.
"If this were a video game, wouldn't this be like beating one miniboss and immediately running headfirst into the final boss?!"
March slumped onto the bench in the private waiting room, letting out a frustrated groan.
"March, you need to have faith in the hard work you've put in," Asta offered with a gentle smile, sitting down beside her. "Don't pile so much pressure onto your own shoulders. Win or lose, it doesn't change who you are, right?"
"I guess that's true..."
Asta's quiet reminder struck a chord. March paused, thinking back to why she had signed up in the first place.
Originally, she had entered the qualifiers purely to prove that the Pokémon she raised were the most beautiful, adorable companions in the galaxy.
Yet as she advanced through each round, the competitive format had pulled her into endless tactical drills, pushing her through grueling sessions that felt like boot camp.
Interacting with her partners had never been meant to feel like a grueling chore.
March found herself remembering the quiet hours she used to spend crouched behind bushes in the wilderness, holding her breath just to snap photos of rare, beautiful Pokémon playing in the meadow.
Waiting for hours without moving a muscle had been physically exhausting in its own right, yet she had never felt drained doing it back then. She had loved every single second.
Somewhere along the way, her mindset had gotten tangled up in the scoreboard.
"Thank you, Asta!" March looked up, her pink eyes brightening with sudden clarity. "You're totally right. As long as we bring out how beautiful and lovable our Pokémon are, winning or losing shouldn't even be on our minds."
Beauty was an abstract feeling; everyone saw it differently. As long as she presented what felt right in her heart, that was more than enough.
Even if she lost, she would learn plenty from an opponent like Guinaifen, making the journey worthwhile.
Having cleared the mental fog, March felt the heavy knot in her chest dissolve. With a bright smile, she released Beautifly and Articuno, leaning in close to discuss the visual flourishes they wanted to create together.
Did I really say all that?
Watching March snap back to her usual bubbly self, Asta scratched her cheek in slight bemusement.
She had only offered a few casual words of comfort. How had March spun that into an entire philosophical revelation?
Are my pep talks really that good? I could have sworn Arlan once told me I'm terrible at cheering people up...
Still, listening to March's perspective helped Asta make total peace with her own quarterfinal exit.
She had joined the tournament simply out of pure affection for Pokémon. Knowing she lacked natural combat instincts, this hybrid stage, testing aesthetic flair and stagecraft, had seemed like the perfect way to take part.
She had signed up for the experience, not for prize pools or galactic fame.
Yet continually hovering one step away from the top had stirred her stubborn streak, pushing her into joining Welt's grueling coaching sessions.
Looking back on her fierce drive to win, Asta couldn't help but laugh at her own silliness.
"Welcome back, everyone! After a brief intermission, we now move into our semifinal showdowns, narrowing our four remaining contenders down to the final two!"
Owlbert's voice echoed through the arena speakers, signaling the start of the next phase. "Let us welcome March 7th and Little Guinaifen to the stage!"
Up in the VIP viewing stands, Stelle looked at the matchup board with furrowed brows.
"March has a rough road ahead..."
Stelle knew Guinaifen's background well. Guinaifen had started as an underdog in the regional circuits, grinding through brutal matchups and pulling off clutch breakthroughs to climb from the bottom thirty-two all the way into the regional Elite Four.
Facing someone with that level of tournament grit was an uphill battle.
"Let us hope she doesn't spend the next week sulking aboard the Express after she takes a loss," Dan Heng remarked in his usual dry tone. He preferred looking at historical combat data, and purely on paper, the odds were heavily stacked against March.
"Didn't Uncle Yang put March through private training?" Stelle asked, turning toward Welt. "How do her chances look?"
Welt shook his head mildly.
Certain plateaus could not be broken through training drills alone; they required personal enlightenment.
Guinaifen belonged to the instinctual camp. She broke past her limits in the heat of live duels, which was how she had clawed her way to the top. Yet without the constant pressure of the tournament circuit, her growth had hit a natural plateau, making further mid-battle epiphanies difficult to pull off.
March possessed far more raw intuition than Guinaifen, but until she found her own rhythm, reaching the semifinals was her ceiling. Taking the crown seemed out of reach.
Just as Welt began to speak, the giant overhead displays flashed to life, projecting March's face as she stepped onto the Trainer platform.
Her eyes were clear, radiating an effortless, relaxed confidence that looked nothing like the nervous tension she had carried earlier.
"I see..." Welt murmured, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. "In that case, the outcome is far from settled."
"Uncle Yang? You think March can pull this off?" Stelle asked eagerly.
"It will depend on whether Little March can apply the core lesson of her preparation," Welt replied with a quiet smile.
During their training sessions, Welt had not merely drilled techniques; he had woven deeper mental exercises into the routines, concepts that might have seemed abstract at the time.
If March had truly found her center, she stood a real fighting chance against Guinaifen.
Down on the battlefield, the two competitors took their marks.
"Take the field, Blaziken! Gardevoir!" Guinaifen tossed her Poké Balls forward.
"Spread your wings and take to the skies, Articuno! Beautifly!" March called out, releasing her duo in a burst of light.
The four Pokémon appeared in synchronized, elegant poses, drawing appreciative cheers from the crowd.
"Articuno, Blizzard! Beautifly, Flash!"
March went on the offensive immediately. Articuno snapped its wings forward, whipping up a freezing gale laced with razor-sharp ice crystals.
Beautifly fluttered directly above Articuno, unleashing Flash at maximum intensity. The radiant burst illuminated the swirling ice crystals, transforming the blizzard into a blinding, shimmering tempest.
The sudden glare overwhelmed the vision of both Guinaifen and her Pokémon, cutting off clean lines of sight.
"Blaziken, Fire Spin!" Guinaifen commanded without missing a beat, her tournament composure kicking in. "Gardevoir, layer Mystical Fire into the vortex!"
Zor!
Garde!
Blinded by the light, the two Pokémon shut their eyes tight. Blaziken kicked up a spiraling barrier of fire, while Gardevoir used its psychic senses to weave ethereal Mystical Fire into the flames.
The intertwined crimson and mystical flames burned brilliant across the stage, sending Guinaifen's Charm meter soaring.
The Blizzard slammed into the flaming barrier with a roaring hiss. While a few stray shards of frost pierced the heat due to the wind's sheer force, the fiery vortex absorbed the brunt of the assault, keeping Guinaifen's partners completely unscathed.
I figured that wouldn't be enough to break through Guinaifen's defense, March thought calmly. Still, forcing her opponent into a defensive reaction was a solid start to whittling down the field.
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