Unsurprisingly, the two men's Pokémon lost the ability to battle at once, and the men themselves were taken by Slaking and Zweilous.
While that was going forward, Alakazam up in the sky settled Zapdos as well, and then worked with Gyarados to bring Moltres down.
After that they came over to where Blaziken was fighting and set on Darkrai together.
Darkrai had not yet reached Near-Champion, and against so many outstanding fighters it naturally could not hold.
Legendary Pokémon though it was, with powers nobody could foresee.
One pass and Alakazam and the others had broken through it; and they remembered what Vance had told them, so they did it no harm but penned it in to one side.
They would wait for Vance to come back and see what was to be done then.
Vance, at that moment, was going like the wind after the fleeing Elder Vayne.
Huge fists of hazy blue came smashing down, one after another.
"Boom, boom, boom—"
"Pfft—"
Elder Vayne shot away out from under them with blood coming from his mouth.
"Damn it. I misjudged this time. I made too little of you."
Elder Vayne said it with his eyes full of hate.
Then he put out everything he had and fled like a madman.
He and his people had come to kill the man; if he could not get clear now, the end of it did not want imagining.
And the direction he ran in was towards the Indigo Plateau.
The whole point of it before had been to keep Vance from going there; now it was he who was making for it.
But he had no choice. It was that or nothing.
The strongholds nearby had nothing in them that could hold Vance off, and the ones that could were too far; he would never reach them.
Only the Indigo Plateau was left, where with the strength of those few he might yet have a chance of living.
As for having attacked the League's newly crowned tournament champion, he had ways of settling that; it would only cost him rather more.
Besides, the attack had come to nothing, had it not, and Vance had taken no injury from it — whereas he himself was badly hurt. Once he reached the Indigo Plateau he might well turn it round and bite back: say that Vance had attacked them, that he had set out deliberately to wreck the arrangement between the Sacred Order and the League, and even pin it on him that he was a Team Rocket plant.
Yes. That was how it would be done.
If Vance had known what he was thinking, even he would have marvelled at the man's brass.
Whether the plan came off or not, it said everything about the old devil's brass.
Vance flickered forward and caught him again, came up over his head, and with one push of his hand sent a great fist of shaped energy smashing down at him.
"Thud—"
In full flight he was struck down again, and what met him below was one huge fist of energy after another.
"Boom, boom, boom—"
Vance did not hold back but hammered them down without a pause.
The ground shook and would not stop, and from where he stood cracks opened and ran away on every side.
The noise of it, and the terrible tangle of power in the air, sent the Pokémon living round about fleeing in a panic, afraid of being caught up in it.
Only after five solid minutes of it did Vance stop and walk down into the great pit to see how things stood.
Standing over him, he saw the wretched state of the man: sprawled limp on the ground, his bones surely broken.
His body had gone back to what it had been, with a few strips of rag wound about it.
"Ghk, ghk—"
He wanted to say something more but could not get it out; the moment he opened his mouth the blood came welling up.
By the look of him it would have been nothing pleasant.
Knowing he could not speak, Elder Vayne used his mind and spoke another way.
"You wait. The Sacred Order will not let you go! It will not, I promise you. I may die here today, but don't imagine you'll come out of this whole!"
The voice was shrill and venomous, like a curse.
"It makes no odds to me. I've killed a good many of you Godbeast Gang people. One more or one less makes no difference."
At that Elder Vayne's eyes went wide, staring at him.
"That's enough. You can go and die now. Your friends may well be following you before long."
Vance did not explain. The great hand of energy closed, and that was the end of him there.
He took the man's storage gear and his Poké Balls away, then ground his bones to powder and scattered the ash until nothing whatever was left of him.
In case the old devil had some trick by which he could slip out from under Vance's senses.
That way he could be a good deal easier in his mind.
Having killed a man so high up in the Godbeast Gang, Vance did not feel so much as a ripple.
Anyone who wanted him dead or meant him harm — whoever they were, whether they came from the League or even from Team Rocket — he would show no softness. He would kill them all the same!
He filled the place in level again and flew back.
"Haaah—"
With no Trainer to direct it any longer, Darkrai was behaving like something gone mad, but Alakazam had it held down fast.
"You. Come here and calm it down."
Slaking hauled Wren over and said it to him.
It remembered that Wren was this black creature's Trainer and would have some way of making it settle.
"I can't. It's past anything I'm able to do."
Wren said it haltingly. He had been able to control it once, but he had not done well enough, and Elder Vayne had taken Darkrai off him and worked it over; he no longer had the least idea how the thing was managed.
"Hmph. You don't know? Then you can die!"
Slaking said it coldly, and the grip in his hand tightened a great deal, until Wren felt he could not breathe.
With enemies Slaking took the same view Vance did: cold, and no mercy.
"I... I truly don't know."
Even in that much pain Wren said the same.
By the look of him it was not a lie, and Slaking let him go.
Wren dropped to his knees, gulping air.
Vance came flying in out of the sky and landed.
"All settled, then."
"Settled. These two are here, and the Pokémon that can't fight any longer; the other three had no Poké Balls, so they've been left out in the open."
Alakazam explained, bringing the two men forward under guard, one hand still holding Darkrai down.
"Well done."
Vance said it, then took up three Poké Balls and drew Articuno, Moltres and Zapdos into them.
Then he turned back to the two men, prisoners now.
"And Elder Vayne?"
Wren asked.
"Dead, of course."
Vance answered, lifting the balls that now held the three Legendary Pokémon.
"I see."
Wren let out a breath, his face the colour of ash, and said nothing more.
Seeing him like that, Vance had no interest in talking to him and turned instead to the other one, Gerald Farrow.
"Heh. Kai Farrow?"
"Spare me."
The words were barely out before Gerald Farrow was on his knees, begging for his life.
"I beg you to be merciful and spare my life. From this day the Farrow house of Saffron City is yours to command, my lord."
"The Farrow house is too great a family for me to have any use for. Tell me where Kai Farrow is and I won't go after the rest of your people — provided, of course, they don't come troubling me."
Vance said it evenly.
He was not a large-hearted man in these matters. Whoever wanted him dead, he would see dead, and there was nothing to discuss about it.
And as it happened, Gerald Farrow and Kai Farrow had done exactly that.
"Is there really nothing to be done? I beg you, my lord."
"You're in no position to say any of that to me. The one thing you have is Kai Farrow's whereabouts. Or you may keep it — I have ways enough of finding him."
Vance said it coldly, without a scrap of feeling in his voice.
Seeing him still hedging.
He wasted no more time. His eyes lit, and he simply took hold of the man.
"Where is Kai Farrow."
Vance asked.
"He's gone back to Saffron City."
Gerald Farrow answered blankly.
Vance then asked several more questions that mattered, and when he had the answers he wanted he reached out and crushed the man's throat.
"Hrrk—"
Gerald Farrow's pupils spread wide, and his awareness went down into the dark.
Half a lifetime of going where he pleased, and he died here; and the bitterness of it drowned along with him in that endless dark as his consciousness went out.
Vance was quick and clean about it, and there was no mercy at all in his hand.
Even Wren, who had killed more men than he could count, felt his scalp crawl.
This young man had no small appetite for killing.