Pokemon: Reborn Rich Alternate Earth-Chapter 586: Moltres Vs Houndoom

Pokémon: Moltres (Fire/Flying)

Level: 84

Potential: Blue 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Ability: Pressure

Held Item: Charcoal

Gender: Genderless

Moves: Gust, Leer, Ember, Safeguard, Wing Attack, Flamethrower, Agility, Ancient Power, Incinerate, Air Slash, Roost, Heat Wave, Sunny Day, Hurricane, Endure, Overheat, Sky Attack

TMs: Protect, Take Down, Acrobatics, Flame Charge, Fire Spin, Aerial Ace, Air Cutter, Fly, Will-O-Wisp, Fire Blast, Flare Blitz, Solar Beam

Egg Moves: None

Note: Due to consuming a Blaze Stone, the power of Flamethrower is doubled.

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Julian was surprised to find that Moltres had reached Level 84—just yesterday, it was still 83.

But the level-up made sense: during this time, Moltres had been well-fed and well-rested and the fact it had been stuck at level 83 for a while, the breakthrough was inevitable.

At Level 84, Moltres was now even stronger—'Poor Noda—talk about bad luck.'

The trainers from various nations watching Julian couldn’t hide their shock, their gazes filled with nothing but astonishment.

'A 20-year-old pseudo-Champion?'

'How the hell is that even possible?!'

In some smaller nations, the strongest trainers were only Elite-level. A pseudo-Champion? That was practically a national treasure—an existence that could single-handedly shift a country's standing.

And no nation would dare to underestimate a pseudo-Champion.

If Champions were the nuclear deterrents—rarely deployed—then pseudo-Champions were the strongest force just beneath them, the backbone of a nation’s military might.

For Julian to reach this level at such a young age? Becoming a full-fledged Champion wasn’t just likely—it was practically guaranteed.

Some neutral nations watching the scene began recalculating their diplomatic strategies.

They began considering whether they should arrange a friendly visit to Drakoria in the near future.

After all, Drakoria was already slightly ahead of Celestria in strength—and with talents like Julian, its future dominance seemed inevitable.

Meanwhile, the factions led by Celestria looked like they’d just swallowed a lemon. Some even rubbed their eyes, as if hoping this was all a hallucination.

The three Elite-level trainers from Celestria had cold glints flashing in their eyes.

They were thinking far beyond the average person, and they also had access to more information than most.

Julian’s grandfather was John, Drakoria’s sixth Champion. His father? Also a pseudo-Champion, on the verge of breaking through to Champion-level by fifty.

And now, with Julian in the picture…

There was a real possibility that the Walker family might one day boast THREE Champions.

If that happened, how could Celestria ever compete? Throw hands? They’d get annihilated.

Therefore, they needed to find a way to break this situation—and Julian was the key to that.

After all, he was John’s pride and joy. If something were to happen to him…

The Walker bloodline might not end, but John’s spirit would definitely shatter. And his father? He’d likely collapse alongside him.

Of course, if they wanted to get rid of Julian, it would have to be done in secret—absolutely under no circumstances could their own nation be implicated.

If discovered, John, that madman, would drag one—maybe even two—of their Champions down with him in vengeance.

A single Champion was enough to make a superpower wary. But a Champion gone berserk? That was enough to make them terrified.

The three Elites from Celestria silently cheered Noda on in their hearts.

'If he kills Julian here…'

Sure, Noda wouldn’t survive—but Celestria would remember his sacrifice.

Hell, they might even erect a monument in his honor.

But the one whose mentality had truly shattered was Noda himself.

How could he have known?

Julian—who had only been an early-stage Elite when he entered the secret realm—had somehow emerged half a year later as a pseudo-Champion?!

Sure, Top-tier secret realms were overflowing with resources and opportunities…

But this was downright absurd!

Yet, there was no backing out now. He’d already thrown down the challenge.

As a peak Elite, Noda quickly steadied his nerves.

Noda: 'Let’s test his real skills first.'

Levels didn’t always equate to combat power.

Houndoom stared down its opponent, unwavering.

Even if this was a pseudo-Champion, even if this was a Legendary Pokémon—it wasn’t afraid.

A pitch-black Dark Pulse erupted from Houndoom’s maw, the sheer density of its dark energy proving its mastery over the element.

"SKREEE—!"

Moltres answered with a Flamethrower.

The moment the flames left its beak, the surrounding temperature skyrocketed.

Even the spectators standing hundreds of meters away felt the intense wave of heat and instinctively took a few steps back.

Experienced trainers immediately realized something was off. This Moltres’ flame temperature was unusually high—far hotter than expected.

While Moltres’ flames were naturally hotter than most Fire-type Pokémon, this went beyond the normal range.

The moment Houndoom’s Dark Pulse collided with Flamethrower—it was completely obliterated without offering the slightest resistance.

Fortunately, Houndoom reacted quickly enough to dodge just in time, avoiding a direct hit from Flamethrower.

The ground where it had just been standing was instantly transformed into molten lava under the intense heat, forming a pool of lava more than ten meters wide that continued to bubble.

'What the hell?!'

Even veteran Fire-type specialists twitched at the sight.

'That’s a Flamethrower?!'

'More like f*ing Burn Up!'

Noda gasped sharply, thankful that Houndoom had dodged in time—otherwise, even though it was a Fire-type, it wouldn’t have fared well if hit by that Flamethrower.

With a single attack, Moltres had demonstrated its strength to everyone.

Many of the Elite-level trainers present couldn’t withstand that single attack from Moltres.

"Air Cutter," Julian commanded.

Houndoom’s speed was indeed impressive, but that was about it.

With a powerful beat of its wings, Moltres unleashed a barrage of razor-sharp Air Cutters, crescent-shaped blades slicing through the air with piercing shrieks.

The attacks came in an overwhelming storm, blotting out the sky above Houndoom.

The Dark-type looked up—only to see dozens of Air Cutters descending upon it, leaving no room to dodge. Even if it avoided one, another would follow in an endless, punishing sequence.

“Houndoom, Protect!”

“Flamethrower!”

Noda and Julian’s commands rang out almost simultaneously.

Houndoom's Protect managed to block a few of the Air Cutters, while the majority struck the ground, carving deep gashes into the battlefield.

But what followed was Moltres’ terrifying Flamethrower.

The barrier, already weakened from blocking a few Air Cutters, shattered instantly under the searing heat.

Within the raging flames, Houndoom’s screams of agony could be heard.

“Houndoom, return!”

In his desperation, Noda tried to recall Houndoom using its Pokéball, but the red beam was intercepted by Moltres, its wings flaring to block the recall.

"Air Slash."

Julian’s eyes flashed coldly.

From the very start, he had no intention of letting this Houndoom walk away alive.

Unlike the previous storm of Air Cutters, Moltres now conjured a single, condensed blade—a razor-sharp crescent of pure cutting force, honed to lethal precision.

*****

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