That night, after polishing off the Rattata clan's precious fruit stash, Furret led Houndour to rest on the flat stone by the watering hole where Raticate used to lounge.
Houndour lay on the slab, head pillowed on Furret's tail, quietly watching the bright moon. In its mind's eye, it could see Ethan cheering it on.
It was the first time they'd been apart since Houndour had mysteriously appeared at its trainer's side. It wondered if those five chubby Sentrets—good for nothing but eating and drinking—were taking proper care of its human.
Its thoughts drifted to its old life.
Back on the grasslands, it had never left the pack. It was sheltered, never truly tasted hardship.
Now, under Furret's lead, it finally felt what mountain living meant.
To live is to struggle—forever. The Sentrets were the same as it today: battle after battle, getting strong the hard way, right?
All the frustration from lagging behind Alolan Persian washed out of Houndour's chest.
It had seen the ugly scars under Persian's sleek fur. Tonight it had witnessed the endless fights those Sentrets waged to survive.
No one's growth is smooth. Some scrape by in the dark corners of the world—poor, but unbent, never dropping their ambitions.
Whose achievements aren't paid for, dearly?
If it was behind, it was because it hadn't worked hard enough—yet. Don't brood. Work. Leave the rest to fate; if things don't go your way, there's another path waiting.
With that, Houndour drifted off, a smile at the corner of its mouth.
In its dream, Houndour was as unstoppable as Furret. It had evolved into Houndoom, carrying Ethan across the world—deep mountains, bogs, killer ravines—nothing could halt its stride.
The instant Houndour fell asleep, Furret opened its eyes, relief glinting there. It patted Houndour's head.
There'd be another battle tomorrow. The pup needed to finish becoming truly Dark—so it wouldn't let him down.
—
At dawn, on a meadow spangled with alpine flowers, Houndour knocked a Butterfree from the sky with Ember as it tried to scatter Stun Spore.
By the river later, a Poliwag crumpled beneath writhing vines from Hidden Power (Grass); another Poliwag glared, but with Furret there, it didn't dare act.
In the afternoon, on a damp, gloomy slope, Iron Tail sent a Spinarak tumbling.
Later, under a Graveler's watchful stare, Geodude went down to a clean Iron Tail.
Near dusk, Furret and Houndour were sprinting flat out, dust streaming behind them while six Ninetales gave furious chase.
Houndour tasted defeat for the first time. If not for a last-second Protect, that brutal body slam would've left it badly hurt.
Past midnight, Furret brought Houndour to a wild orchard—Mankey territory.
Houndour stepped carefully. Ethan's voice rang in its head: be extra wary of Fighting types. And by that same logic, even Furret would be at a disadvantage here. If a brawl started, would Furret be okay?
Roused and irritable, the Mankey hung by their tails, glaring at the intruders, clutching fruit pits to throw.
"Taiiil!"
Furret's bark snapped them fully awake. Cold sweat broke out; pits were hastily hidden.
It's that killer—why is it here?
"BOOM… BOOM… BOOM…"
A terrifying laugh rolled from deeper in the grove, answering Furret. Soundwaves shook the trees and set fruit dancing.
Houndour's muscles went taut. That presence… strong. Among all the challengers so far, this one, hidden in the dark, was the most fearsome.
"Taiiil… (It's fine. Keep up.)"
Unfazed, Furret pushed on toward the source.
Houndour cracked its neck, a feral grin showing sharp teeth. It flashed the treetop Mankey a polite, predatory smile.
Why be afraid?
It finally understood the flavor of Dark it was groping for.
Furret's silhouette dwindled ahead; Houndour followed, calm.
In the orchard's heart, beneath an ancient tree as thick as a man's waist, a white-furred, elderly Primeape sat meditating.
A Pokémon famed for its volcanic temper… meditating?
Primeape could literally rage itself to death—how could this one sit in stillness?
White fur—a shiny? No. Houndour shook its head. What it sensed was life force thrumming in the old fighter. Contradiction: a frail body housing terrifying power.
If Ethan were here with the [Dex], it would read Lv. 40.
Levels aren't fixed. Power waxes and wanes. When this Primeape was young, it had probably peaked above Lv. 50—perhaps Gym tier above Lv. 60—then age nibbled it down to today's rating.
"Wee-li!"
To Houndour's shock, Furret bowed deeply to the old Primeape.
…Master?
This Primeape was Furret's teacher?
Houndour hurried to bow as well. It could smell the benefits and wasn't about to miss out.
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"
Primeape's eyes snapped open; that gale of laughter blasted the grove again. Sound rolled like thunder; fruit rained down and Mankey thudded to earth.
Houndour sprang behind a rock. Teacher and student—so why did it feel like a fight?
Under the ancient tree, Primeape stood. Its wiry frame ballooned with corded muscle, bronze arms veined with inky lines.
"BOOM!"
Veins bulged in a cross on its temple; it exploded into motion, leaping with a hand-edge Karate Chop that cleaved down like a sky-sundering blade.
A simple chop—but to Houndour it felt like a forty-meter sword.
It was exactly like Furret's sweeping Fire Spin + Iron Tail—a wall of force from earth to heaven. Nowhere to run.
Furret's aura surged. It met the "heavenly blade" with a perfect Protect. The shield shattered—but it had done its job.
"BOOM! (Not bad.)"
Primeape flowed into a Cross Chop, black-lined arms carving an X.
Furret didn't dodge—it met the cross with its body. Primeape's brow creased, anger climbing.
Giving up? Then remember this lesson forever.
It amped the power and blasted Furret away—
"…That texture's wrong." Primeape frowned.
The "Furret" it launched… crumpled into a Substitute.
The real Furret was already at its flank, aura wound tight—then smashed a Focus Punch squarely into Primeape's jaw.
Primeape took it full on. It rubbed its chin, unbothered, and raised a hand in praise.
"Boom… boom… (Good. You haven't slacked.)"
Its pressure bled away. The muscles shrank, the black tracery faded. Back to monk-stillness, Primeape sat cross-legged beneath the tree.
Houndour crept from cover, rejoining Furret.
Furret gestured to Houndour as it introduced the pup. Primeape stood, prodded Houndour here and there, then smiled in a way Houndour did not like.
Houndour: (⊙﹏⊙)
Resurrection? What did the old man plan?
Before it could ask, more than a dozen Mankey—all about Houndour's level—closed in.
The orchard rang with Houndour's yelps. The moon ducked behind a cloud, and darkness fell on the roughest night of training Houndour had known.
—
The next evening, Furret and a thoroughly battered Houndour bowed to the Mankey troop and moved on.
They kept heading deeper. Here, the average wild Pokémon outleveled Houndour by six or seven—no place for normal training. Even the Sentrets would be out of their depth.
Ghost types roamed. A moment earlier, a cluster of Phantump had trapped them in a maze of trees. Houndour had been about to brute-force through with Dark energy, but the "normal type" Furret had already unraveled the illusion and swatted the culprits before leading them out.
The mountains steepened. A terrible howl rolled from a chasm.
"Awoo!"
Houndour's ears snapped up. That call—its own kind.
So this was the final trial Furret had prepared… a Houndour pack lived here.
Furret stopped, produced two Oran Berries and a Chesto, and passed them over.
Houndour didn't stand on ceremony—gulped down the Orans for energy, the Chesto to sharpen the mind. Then it drank in the Sun's warmth from the Seed of the Sun at its collar.
"Awoo!"
It threw back its head, howled, and charged into the gorge.
Time to say goodbye to the past.
—
On a jutting rock, a gaunt Houndoom with long, curved horns watched the battle below.
On the way down, Furret had told Houndour: if it goes wrong—run.
Between Houndoom and Furret, more than ten adult Houndour ringed two smaller pups.
One was the alpha's son. The other was the outsider.
By tradition, the alpha tested the stray's worth.
The heir was wildly gifted, but all its inherited power skewed physical—and that gave Ethan's Houndour fits.
They'd been slugging it out a while. With Flash Fire on both sides, fire moves were neutralized.
Houndour thought bitterly: if I'd absorbed a little more Sun, if my flames had transformed a little further, he'd never dare to drink my fire…
What should've been a ranged duel had devolved into a bloody brawl.
The heir's Thunder Fang was honed to perfection. It opened with Howl, closed hard, and clamped—trading blow for blow. It also had the inherited Double-Edge, making it even nastier for Ethan's Houndour to answer.
Ethan's Houndour juggled Hidden Power (Grass), Feint Attack, Iron Tail, and Protect to stay alive.
After getting clipped twice by Hidden Power, the heir refused to give space—stayed glued on Houndour so it couldn't gather Grass energy again.
Twenty minutes in, both were at their limit. Ethan's Houndour had just eaten another Double-Edge; it was worse off.
"Doom…"
"Wee-li!"
Houndoom—the alpha—was about to intervene, but Furret stopped him.
Not over yet.
The ring of Houndour didn't buy it. To them, both pups were spent—and their young master held the edge. Even if it continued, he'd win.
Under their skeptical stares, Ethan's Houndour bared its teeth in a crooked grin and forced itself upright.
A blinding golden light burst from its body, and with strength from nowhere it lunged at the heir at terrifying speed.
Reversal.
Its greatest prize from the orchard troop—awakened under the old Primeape's brutal tutelage. Against Dark foes, this pure Fighting strike was fatal.
Houndoom recognized it instantly. He sprang from the rock to body-block the blow for his son—
—but Furret was faster. Already coiled, it flashed in with Quick Attack, then blasted a Focus Punch that knocked Houndoom aside, denying his interference.
At the same instant, Furret popped a Substitute right in front of the heir—the doll ate Reversal whole.
When the light faded, Ethan's Houndour's legs gave out. It collapsed, utterly drained.
The ring closed ranks, shielding the heir in case Furret pressed on.
Furret hooked its tail around Ethan's Houndour and dragged him back a few paces.
"Doom."
Houndoom barked, and the pack withdrew. He approached, lowered his head, and rumbled to Houndour:
"Doom… doom… (Come, child. We recognize you. Return to the pack.)"
Furret's eyes went wide. Its heart lurched.
Oh no.
It might've gone too far. Was it about to lose its partner?
Didn't they know it had brought five Sentrets—surely that made up the difference?
If one tail wasn't enough, take two.
Fine—five! Surely they wouldn't take me, right?
…And to be fair, they were delicious.
What to do?
—Asking for a friend. Urgent.