Even with Extreme Speed boosting it, Arcanine's tempo had dipped a little—but it still twisted aside in a blur, slipping past two incoming Shadow Balls.
"Golbat—Sludge Bomb!"
Arcanine sprang, jaws yawning wide as Dark-type energy condensed between its fangs.
Crunch crashed head-on into Sludge Bomb.
The Sludge Bomb flew straight into Arcanine's open mouth. A purple sheen flashed over its body—the move's thirty-percent Poison chance triggered.
Even so, Arcanine forced its bite through.
Golbat had no time to evade. With no other choice, it crossed both wings to block Arcanine's Crunch.
"Arcanine—Flare Blitz!"
Landing light on its paws, Arcanine pressed the advantage. Fire raced across its coat; it leaped again and rocketed toward Golbat.
But could Golbat really be caught by the same trick twice?
Feinting once, Golbat split into a flurry of afterimages with Double Team, leaving Arcanine momentarily unsure which was real. The dog was already airborne; there was no stopping. It picked one and drove straight in.
Flare Blitz slammed through a clone; the illusion shattered in a spray of light. The instant Arcanine hit the ground—
—clusters of black orbs pelted in from afar, too well-timed to dodge. Golbat again, lining up the window perfectly.
After boosting with Nasty Plot, and after Arcanine had eaten two Sludge Bombs in a row, that final Shadow Ball sent the Fire-type crashing down at last.
"Arcanine is unable to battle—Golbat wins!"
The referee's call set the stands roaring. Most of what the crowd had seen today were matches between first-stage Pokémon. There had been good moments, sure, but a lot of it was bare-bones slugging—rookie Trainers trading hits with shallow movepools.
Then again, this event was aimed at high-schoolers—newcomers who'd only just received their first Pokémon—so that was only natural.
Jace Rowan recalled his Arcanine, eyes still spinning with swirls, and strode toward Auron Vale. Auron rubbed Golbat's head, returned it to its Poké Ball, and grinned at the friend walking up.
"Well? Surprised?"
Jace thumped Auron in the chest with a fist. "Surprised? Try blindsided. You taught Golbat Rain Dance first? That's so you."
Auron answered with a playful body shot to Jace's sternum. "Oh? So it's fine for your Torkoal to learn Stone Edge early just to hard-counter me, but I can't teach my Golbat Rain Dance?"
"Why, you—" Jace hooked an arm around Auron's neck, laughing. The two of them roughhoused their way off the field.
Next up was Tim Wynn versus Simon Greaves. They took the stage together, each with a Poké Ball in hand, and stood facing one another.
"Send out your Pokémon!"
"Go—Dragonair!"
"…"
The moment Dragonair appeared, the whole arena erupted.
"Whoa—pseudo-legendary! And it's evolved already? What kind of family do you need to evolve a pseudo-legendary in three months?"
A spectator in the know leaned over to answer the guy who blurted that out. "Vantora City's richest man's son. What kind of 'family'? Dragonair's droppings are probably worth more than what you eat. Why wouldn't it evolve fast? I bet it snacks on B+ Pokéblocks."
"Country bumpkin. All you know are B+ Pokéblocks," scoffed a well-dressed young noble, shooting the speaker a withering look before turning, eyes shining, to Dragonair on the field. "Tsk, tsk. A pseudo-legendary—truly a once-in-a-lifetime sight."
The debate raged across the front rows, but down on the floor Dragonair and Haunter were already going at it even harder.
Shadow Ball and Dragon Pulse crisscrossed the field; every so often, Dark curtains of Night Shade slammed into breathy bursts of Dragon Breath mid-air and detonated in crackling shockwaves. Seizing an opening, Haunter whipped up Icy Wind—super effective into Dragonair.
There was no way Dragonair could slip it—but Tim's eyes flashed. "Twister!"
The Icy Wind smashed straight into Dragonair's Twister, and the low pressure brewing at the vortex's eye pulled the icy blast into its core.
Just like that, Dragonair weathered Icy Wind without a scratch.
"…"
Haunter flicked its hands and slung Shadow Ball after Shadow Ball in a relentless chain.
Dragonair stayed cool. Dragon Breath—Dragon Pulse—again and again, it met each orb head-on and burst them apart in mid-flight.
Simon was running out of angles. Dragonair had Protect. It had Substitute. It even had Rest.
Curse? A Substitute would block it. Hypnosis and Toxic were hard to land—and even if they connected, Protect could stall them out.
There was always Perish Song—but using it now would at best force a draw.
The kicker? Dragonair had learned Endure too. Simon didn't know. Auron did. Over all this time, Tim had actually taught Dragonair the whole suite of infuriating stall tools.
The two Pokémon fought on a while longer. Both were breathing hard; neither had much left in the tank.
"One last strike. Let's finish it."
They closed fast to tighten their accuracy windows.
At the same instant, both unleashed their wave attacks.
Dragon Pulse and Dark Pulse smashed together mid-air. The backlash flung both Pokémon away; they hit the ground hard.
Haunter's gaseous body soaked the impact without too much harm. Dragonair, though, wasn't Haunter—it thudded into the floor with its full weight.
Thanks to the Dragon-type's sturdy constitution, it didn't go down outright—but it was close.
Haunter wobbled as it drifted in the air. Dragonair still tried to hold its elegant posture.
Silence fell inside and out, everyone watching the two Pokémon who had pushed themselves to the brink.
They stared each other down. A beat later, Dragonair's body slackened; it toppled.
As it fell, it forced its eyes open on sheer will, wanting to see its opponent—only to watch Haunter, too, bob and sink, then drift down to the floor. Only then did Dragonair let its eyes slide shut and collapse fully.
Both hit the mat; both eyes swirled in dizzy spirals.
"Both Pokémon are unable to battle—the round ends in a draw!"
The judge's ruling started a ripple of applause that quickly swelled into a single, rolling ovation—an honest tribute to the unbending will of both Pokémon.
Tim recalled Dragonair and slung an arm over Simon's shoulder. Together, they walked off the field.
Simon's body still tensed at contact, but in his heart he'd already accepted friendly closeness from people other than Hanling Yin.
Hanling watched the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, and said nothing. A beautiful smile just tugged up one corner of her lips. Then she turned to Serena Elm, reached out, and hooked her arm through Serena's.
"Come on. Our turn."
"Mm."
Serena nodded, and the two stepped onto the floor together.
"Send out your Pokémon!"
"Go—Milotic!"
"Go—Misdreavus!"
The arena exploded into fever pitch again.
They had just seen the elegant, mysterious Dragonair—and now, a Milotic of matchless grace.
Everyone knew it: Milotic was called one of the most beautiful Pokémon in the world. Its popularity had never once waned.
And its Trainer was a fresh, radiant beauty herself.
So even though the opponent was also a lovely girl, with Milotic's aura behind her, Serena Elm's support spiked far past Hanling Yin's in an instant.
From the stands came the calls, again and again—
"Go, beauty!"
"Let's go, Milotic!"
—shouts rolling like surf.
The scene was even more electric than when Dragonair first appeared.
The two Trainers traded a helpless glance. Thankfully, the referee was unmoved. He raised his flags—and slashed one down.
"Swish!"
The flag fell. The battle began.
(End of Chapter)