Circhester.
The streets were covered in thick layers of snow, and loose flakes drifted in the wind.
Marvin hugged his arms tight, his teeth chattering nonstop. "H-h-h… it's freezing… s-so cold…"
He had only worn the company's white uniform when he left. The uniform had some resistance to the cold, but it was no winter wear. Beneath it, he only had on a T-shirt.
Shiro glanced at him, then pulled out a black cloak from his backpack and handed it over. "I brought a spare cloak. Here."
"Y-yeah… thanks…" Marvin stammered, snatching it up. He wrapped himself head to toe in the thick fabric.
The warmth helped. His shivering eased, though it completely hid the clean white company uniform, making him look more like a wilderness trainer.
Shiro had also forgotten how cold Circhester could be, but his own attire had never changed. The cloak that every wilderness trainer carried could hide one's figure, shield from the cold, and block sand. It was useful for almost everything.
The two of them walked along the main street in the center of town. The road stretched wide and flat, and on both sides were traditional two and three story houses. But every shop below was shut tight. A few had glass doors, fogged with heavy condensation. Without the signs above, there was no telling what the shops even sold.
Up ahead the road sloped upward. At the top, the stadium waited.
Shiro quickened his steps. He was a challenger today, scheduled to face Melony after Gordie. Marvin was a roadblocker; his job was to wait outside.
But the latter still looked miserable, stamping his feet for warmth. Standing outside for an hour or more would be impossible for him. His eyes darted left and right, then he slipped into a nearby shop to hide from the cold.
Shiro pressed on and stepped into the gym.
The place had clearly been transformed from an ancient hall. It dwarfed Spikemuth's gym in size and height. As he pushed open the marble doors, a wave of white steam drifted out to meet him.
At the center of the lobby, a pool bubbled with spring water.
"This is only for display." A staff member came forward at once, explaining, "As a guest of Circhester, if you would like to relax, you can enjoy the real hot springs while waiting for Master Gordie's match to end."
Shiro gave a nod and waved lightly to decline.
The thought of slipping into water here made him uneasy. What if that vicious woman Melony laced the hot spring with something? Or worse, what if someone else had already used it? The idea of that fat guy losing control and… relieving himself in the pool came to mind.
Sticking to his cautious nature, he didn't trust any of the gym's facilities.
"Very well, please follow me," the worker said politely and led the way.
They circled the ornamental spring, passed through a side door, then wound through two long corridors before stopping at a large set of doors.
"Beyond this is the battlefield," the staff member said.
Shiro pushed the door open and entered alone.
A rush of icy wind hit him in the face, carrying with it the noise of amplified voices from electronic speakers.
"Incredible! Unbelievable! Challenger Gordie, unable to handle the cold, has squatted down and stopped commanding his Pokémon! Why has Gym Leader Melony not ordered her Pokémon to strike the final blow?"
Ryan's fiery voice boomed like thunder, shaking the ears of everyone present.
In this relatively closed space, the gym's sound system had two extra speakers in each corner. The commentator's shout echoed back and forth across the entire hall, rattling the brain.
Shiro himself was a little stunned.
On the field, an Eiscue faced off against a Barbaracle. Both were of Gym-level strength.
Eiscue was pure Ice-type. Barbaracle was Rock and Water. Rock moves dealt double damage and Water resisted Ice, giving the latter a clear advantage in typing.
But Barbaracle wasn't attacking. It was… dancing?
Its body was strange, made of six arms and legs controlled by different limbs, but all usually followed its central brain. Yet now half of it lurched forward to attack while the other half shuffled backward.
"Why is Gym Leader Melony not attacking?" Ryan roared again, pushing the battle commentary forward at every opportunity. "Could it be she doesn't want to eliminate her son? Is she about to commit open cheating in front of the entire Galar audience?"
Melony listened to his echoing voice with a conflicted look.
The opponent was her own son.
To raise Gordie and send him to the Champion Cup, she had gone through endless struggles, finding three Gym-level rock types and even using the few ice Pokémon left to her by her late husband to help with his training.
Now he stood, or rather crouched, at his peak. With three Gym-level Pokémon and three more at Advanced-level, most of which obeyed orders.
But they obeyed both her and him.
So when Gordie yelled for an attack and she shouted at him to get dressed at the same time, Barbaracle froze, confused. Should it strike, or should it retreat to fetch clothes?
Gordie, meanwhile, shivered miserably. Wrapped in only a thin bathrobe over his plump body, he trembled on the floor.
At first, the hot spring had left him warm enough to last for a while.
But the problem was… all of Melony's Pokémon were Ice-types, inherited from the previous gym leader. The attacks they used were ice moves, and at the Gym-level they absorbed heat terrifyingly fast. Just two moves had shaken Gordie so badly he dropped his triangular sunglasses.
Once he crouched down, the two commentators finally reacted.
Melony's calls for him to go back and dress had thrown Barbaracle into disarray. And Gordie remained squatting, refusing to leave the field.
There was no rule against trainers putting on or removing clothes mid-battle. But Gordie's thinking had never been normal. If he went back to get dressed, wouldn't that ruin his image of a bare-chested tough guy?
The match stalled in silence. The situation on the battlefield was clear to anyone watching.
Ryan was about to ridicule further, but Melony could bear it no longer. She gave a sharp order.
"Eiscue! Use Tackle!"
She could not use any ice attacks, nor did she dare to unleash anything powerful.
She also couldn't openly advise Gordie either. If Barbaracle misunderstood again and it was discovered that it wasn't really trained by him, they would be in trouble.
Her face darkened.
She would have to drag this out, attack little by little, until he couldn't stand it and went back to put on clothes. Only then could the battle continue.
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