The air reeked of scorching char.
At the head of the host stood an especially burly Armarouge and a tall, rangy Ceruledge, with dozens more Armarouge and Ceruledge packed in behind them. The flames burning on their bodies weren't for show—they were real heat, warping the air.
On the outer ring, hundreds of Charcadet dashed about like fervent zealots, eyes gleaming with a hunger to fight.
It was the kind of wild Pokémon force that would make an ordinary Trainer turn and run.
Facing that lineup, Iono's palms were damp with nerves—this was her first time confronting so many Pokémon at once. But Cynthia, standing at the very front, didn't so much as blink. Black coat, golden hair rippling slightly in the heat, she was calm as a deep pool. To her, this mass could've been Magikarp for all it mattered.
"Garchomp. Milotic."
Her voice was cool and steady—quiet, yet carried to every ear. She merely lifted her right hand and pointed her long forefinger toward the enemy's center.
"Rooar!"
Garchomp shook the cavern with its roar.
At its side, Milotic arched its long neck and let out a clear, ethereal call.
Very different styles—identical pressure.
"Milotic, Surf."
Cynthia's order was casual; Milotic's response was apocalyptic. The humidity spiked; the ground began to tremble. Under astonished stares, a ten-meter wall of water rose out of nothing.
"Garchomp, Stone Edge—at their leaders."
Almost in the same instant the wave formed, Garchomp leapt, spun, and smashed its tail to the floor.
The earth split beneath the two bosses' feet.
Rrrrrumble!
Knife-like pillars of stone erupted around them, forming an inescapable rock cage while lunging toward their bodies. Caught out by the dragon's speed and angle, the two leaders hacked furiously at the spears, only to kick off showers of sparks.
With Cynthia in control, Jason wasn't about to just watch. He stepped back twice and—under Iono's and Gast's puzzled looks—flashed into a Gastly.
"Jason, why'd you turn into me?" Gast drifted around him for a closer look. "Pretty good imitation—but not as cute as me."
"Whoa! Miss Cynthia is so strong!" Iono was fully starstruck. "Jason, we don't even have to help—look! That's Champion power—one move to split the field!"
Jason didn't answer. In Gastly form, the trademark grin was there, but his eyes were razor-focused. Dark energy swirled in his mouth, condensing into a spinning Shadow Ball. He didn't even glance at the trapped leaders or the quivering Charcadet; he sighted a Ceruledge trying to flank Milotic and—
Shff!
The Shadow Ball cut the air in silence and smacked the Ceruledge in the back. It stumbled, flames dimming for a heartbeat, and looked around in confusion—saw nothing. Jason's damage wasn't high, but Ghost hit super effectively; it hurt.
Right then, Milotic's wave crashed down.
Shhhhhhh!
An avalanche of water swept across the ranks; the frontmost Charcadet were swept away before they could scream, whites of their eyes showing as they dropped.
For a moment, the scene was breathtaking.
The two Charcadet Jason had kidnapped earlier peeked from behind a rock and saw it all. They'd planned to bolt in the chaos—surely Jason's team would be too busy to mind them.
"Brother—freedom!"
Long live freedom!
They traded a look and started their run.
Then they saw the ten-meter wave.
They froze mid-step as the "free" comrades in their line of sight flipped white-eyed under the foam and sprawled. Gulp.
One elbowed the other and gave a look: …still running?
The other shook its head, firm: Run? Where? You wanna die?
They quietly reeled their feet back in, squatted again, and tried to fold themselves into the rock's shadow.
Gast noticed and drifted over, looking down at them with her trademark laugh. "Keh-keh-keh. Not going back? The kidnapping's over—you can leave."
They shuddered and pasted on obsequious smiles. "W-what are you saying! We're fully prepared to be hostages!"
"Exactly! As hostages, we'd never sneak off—that'd trouble you!"
"Right! Alive, we're your hostages; dead, we're your dead hostages!"
"…You're even more timid than me," Gast snorted, amused, and floated back to Jason.
He was still a Gastly, methodically repeating the same motion.
Kneading a Rasengan— er, a Shadow Ball.
One after another. Always targeting Ceruledge. Each shot just enough to sting and disrupt their rhythm. And every hit chimed another +0.1% to his Ceruledge Dex.
Gast tilted her head. Jason's kind of a grind gremlin…
On the field, the fight had turned one-sided. Garchomp stood like an immovable mountain; its sheer draconic presence made Armarouge struggle to approach. Milotic was a control queen—no more tidal waves, just perfectly measured flows: serpentine streams that toppled scattered Charcadet right to sleep.
Two versus hundreds—and the hundreds were losing.
Jason-as-Gastly kept lobbing precise Shadow Balls into Ceruledge harried by Milotic's water, more insult than injury—more than one Ceruledge, finally slipping the water's bind, got bonked in the back of the head and face-planted again.
Cynthia stood outside the fray, golden hair lifting in the wake. She didn't watch her own Pokémon—confidence granted that. Her gaze never left Jason; she frowned ever so slightly, eyes equal parts helpless and amused.
She couldn't help it. "Jason, this habit of kill-stealing isn't great."
Even without moving, her aura felt like it stilled the dust.
"Heh-heh—sis, you do you. Don't mind me," Jason shot back, grin incorrigible. Another Shadow Ball flew and clipped a Ceruledge's knee; its form collapsed to a kneel mid-attack.
"Tsk."
She clicked her tongue softly—not angry. Tapping a finger on her thigh, she thought—and decided she'd guessed his angle. Likely tied to his Transform ability.
The chiding melted into a fond little smile. Found a Jason secret, did I? Not bad.
Her voice floated out again, gentler than before. "Milotic—ease up."
The serpent chirped, and its offense softened. Water stopped being a battering ram and became a cage—isolating Ceruledge one by one and delivering them into Jason's line with no chance to counter. The flow was seamless.
Iono stared, mouth an O, hairclips trembling. What the—?
In her script, Jason cracked wise; the Champion gave him The Look; he behaved. Reality? Jason insisted on fighting—and the Champion helped. Her gaze flicked between them: Cynthia's profile soft, golden hair brushing pale cheek, a ghost of a pampering smile; Jason gleefully spamming Shadow Balls in the perfect pocket she'd built for him.
One wants to play, one lets him. No—one clowning, one indulging.
Her worldview wobbled. Does Miss Cynthia dote on Jason that much? And me… do I even have a chance…? She puffed her cheeks and knitted her fingers, adrift in doubt.
Jason, farming Dex, had no time for the daydreaming girl. And Cynthia's attention slid away from him; the indulgent smile faded. Eyes narrowed, she fixed on the two bosses.
Her lips parted. "Garchomp—Dragon Claw."
The mountain moved.
No flourish—just legs firing.
Crack!
The stone underfoot split, webs of cracks spidering out, as Garchomp blurred into a blue-black streak straight at the two leaders. The ferocity of it washed the field in dread.
Armarouge and Ceruledge trying to harass Milotic on the flanks froze; their flames dipped; they retreated, clearing a vast circle in the center.
The two bosses' pupils shrank. The pressure crashing off this Garchomp—on par with Iron Boulder.
But a boss doesn't back down. They traded a look—strike first!
Ceruledge dropped its stance; fire blades crossed and flung forward, a purple-black cross of sword-energy screaming toward the dragon. At the same time, Armarouge raised both arms; shoulder cannons flared, a tightly condensed fire shell spiraling a tail of flame right behind the blades. Close-and-far, slash-and-shell—perfectly paired. If not for Iron Boulder's meddling, the two would've been partners.
Garchomp didn't even slow. As the blades and shell closed, verdant energy flashed along its claws, lengthening into half-meter green talons.
Dragon Claw.
Clang!
A casual sweep of the right claw hit the cross's center; a shriek of metal-on-metal—and the twin flame blades shattered to motes. The left claw flicked and slung the fire shell aside like a gentle ball toss; the molten meteor arced overhead and cratered the rear wall, showering stones.
In a handful of motions, the tide flipped. Before the bosses could process it, Garchomp was in their faces.
"Rooar!"
The point-blank roar hit like a shockwave. Their blood surged; their bodies stuttered for a fatal instant. Garchomp left no room to recover—green talons rained down in a blur, hammering both leaders.
Clang-clang-clang-clang…
Relentless blows rang. The two could only raise arms and blades to block, each impact driving irresistible force through them. They staggered back, carving deep twin furrows in the floor—ragged and reeling.
The viewers saw it all through Iono's lens. The chat, which had just been grousing at her spacing out, went nuclear.
[Whoa whoa WHOA—2v1 and getting stomped? So this is Champion-grade.]
[Is Cynthia's Garchomp busted, or are Paldea's Armarouge/Ceruledge weak?]
[Watch it, pal. Our Armarouge/Ceruledge aren't weak. IRL—come find out.]
[This Garchomp is so cool. I want one!]
[Barehand blade catch—no, barehand shell deflect?! Clip that, please!]
[Streamer—stop gawking and give us a heroic face close-up. I need a wallpaper!]
Snapped to her duties, Iono locked the lens on Garchomp. Her cheeks flushed with excitement; any little jealous pangs were blasted away by the spectacle.
Even Jason's blood ran hot. Hovering midair as Gastly, he watched every motion without blinking.
That control… that's the true peak.
He couldn't help thinking—When will I be that strong? His morphing was versatile, but in raw power he was far behind—few top-tier entries, little heavy training.
While everyone marveled, Cynthia spoke again—voice still even. Jason wondered what kind of opponent would ever shake that calm.
"Garchomp—Dragon Rush. End this."
The finisher.
"Rooaar!"
Garchomp threw back its head and howled. It beat its "wings" and shot skyward. At the apex, it folded—head down, feet up.
A surge of purple draconic aura exploded around it, forming ringed halos—like a violet comet ready to fall. On the ground, the battered bosses lifted their faces, eyes full of despair. Locked by that annihilating energy, they couldn't twitch.
We're finished.
The thought flashed and died.
"Now," Cynthia's eyes flashed.
The violet comet moved—dragging a long tail, tearing the air, diving straight for the pair—
Everyone held their breath—
—and at the last instant, Garchomp's body tilted—ever so slightly. The killing vector skimmed past the bosses' edges and smashed into the empty floor behind them.
BOOM!
The earth heaved underfoot; a crater meters wide yawned where it hit, dirt and rock exploding up and raining back down. The shockwave rolled out in a ring, tossing the two bosses high; they tumbled and crashed, broken, to the ground.
And at the spot Garchomp had aimed Dragon Rush—
A silhouette had appeared.
~~~
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