The emergency ward buzzed with subdued urgency. The automatic doors hissed open and shut in uneven rhythm, ushering in a stream of half-limp trainers and dazed Pokémon. Burnt fur and bitter antiseptic hung thick in the air. Somewhere, a nurse silently cursed as she applied a glowing pink salve to a Quilava's splintered paw. A Noctowl hooted softly from behind an oxygen mask. On the far end of the room, a young woman sobbed quietly into her Grovyle's unmoving shoulder, as Nurse Anette whispered gentle nothings behind a clipboard.
Amidst the noise, Rachel stood hunched at the central terminal, her white coat tied messily at the waist, gloves smudged with potion residue. Her long, dark hair was pinned up carelessly — a few strands had slipped loose and clung to her temples. The screen before her blinked a line of vitals, and she tapped the stylus against her teeth, jaw tight. A Chimeco hovered behind her like a humming assistant, flipping through diagnostic files.
She barely turned when the footsteps approached.
"Annie," Rachel said without looking up, voice low and businesslike. "You're early."
Anna Lindenberg's heels clicked softly against the tile. She wore older, but still quite beautiful dress — a dark green one, faded at the elbows. Her black-dyed hair was tied back into a neat bun, and her elegant face was unreadable.
"Didn't sleep well," Anna said.
"I wouldn't sleep at all, if I were in your shoes..." Rachel replied.
"My mind still wonders about that creepy trip. And then it comes up with a very... hmm... very real nightmares..." Anna added as her eyes swept the room, pausing briefly at each wounded Pokémon, before settling on the far corner — where a small hospital bed had been walled off by thin dividers.
"He's over there?"
Rachel nodded. "Yeah. Monitored all night. Come."
They crossed the floor, weaving around low gurneys. The machinery around Zigzagoon's bed emitted a steady pulse of noise: soft beeping from the heart monitor, a faint wheeze from the assisted respirator, and the occasional flicker from the vitals display. Ziggy looked impossibly small beneath the blanket, tubes running into his side like ivy on a crumbling wall.
"He fought against an army of Lunatones, but that freaking Kommo-o..." Anna cursed silently.
She stood still for a long moment, looking at her Pokémon. Then she took one step forward and gently brushed a hand over his tiny ear, careful not to disturb the wires.
"Ziggy," she whispered. "Hold on, keep fighting."
Rachel said nothing at first. She leaned over the terminal, fingers flying as she scrolled through the overnight logs. She muttered under her breath as the data loaded slowly. A flash of frustration crossed her face.
Anna turned, studied her. "You're unusually quiet, Rach."
Rachel snorted without humor. "You really want me cracking jokes right now?"
"I didn't say that," Anna replied, tone surprisingly light. "Just... I've heard you crack jokes in worse places."
Rachel leaned back from the machine and folded her arms. "Yeah, well. This one's different."
There was silence between them, save for the machines.
After a beat, Anna spoke again. "You don't have to protect me, dear. I've seen death once or twice. And honestly, if I don't laugh, I crumble."
Rachel didn't look at her. "Yeah, well. Nothing funny comes to my mind right now."
She turned back to the screen and tapped another control, and a holographic projection of Zigzagoon's nervous system lit up in midair. Areas in red pulsed slowly.
Anna stepped closer. "Alright. Tell me, what are we looking at?"
"Cerebral trauma," Rachel said. "No fracture, but something's not firing right in his limbic system. Respiratory's being managed, but... he's not stabilizing. Like his brain's too tired to remember how to breathe."
"Will he wake?"
"I don't know." Rachel hesitated. "I requested a specialist — from Olmeria. Expert on neurology. They're swamped, but he'll try to make it by Friday."
Anna nodded. "That's four days."
"I know." Rachel ran a hand through her hair, pulling it tighter. "I've done everything I can. Stimulants, neural shock, healing pulses. Nothing's responding. It's like… like he's in there, but turned away."
Anna took another step toward the bed and sat on the nearby stool. She didn't touch Ziggy again. She just watched him breathe.
"Ziggy saved us," she said softly. "Took a blow that followed us through the Teleport. Stupid little rodent..."
Rachel moved to the med cabinet, fetched a fresh set of gloves. Her hands were shaking slightly.
"You know, Annie," she said as she snapped them on, "if I was there when all that went down… the whole thing would've gone differently."
Anna raised an eyebrow, amused. "You planning to outfight that crazy cult?"
Rachel shrugged with a half-smile. "Let's say that if me and Frank were there, we wouldn't let those crazy idiots take you and Dave away."
There was a pause.
"So you've heard that all what we've been through?" Anna asked, voice low.
Rachel nodded. "Eva filled me in. Ghost woods. Crazy-ass cultists. That freaking ancient sarcophagus. Even those phantoms ghosts of the killed victims. She had to tell me it twice to believe it."
"Well," Anna said, smiling faintly, "that's our life these days."
"What a life..." Rachel sneered.
"Tell me about it. We need to do something about it. First your Monika, then Frank and Jake. Now me... So far, we've been lucky, but..." Anna ranted.
"Do you have some idea on how to solve this Sleeper shit?" Rachel asked.
"I might have..." Anna admitted.
Rachel looked at her with and intense glare. "Then please do something. I'll check on Ziggy in two hours."
"Thank you." Anna attempted a fake smile.
"No problem, Annie. Now, I gotta help a foreign trainer whose Zweilous bit its own head by accident."
Anna nodded, and Rachel hesitated, just a second more.
"He's still in there," she said. "Ziggy. I can feel it. He just… needs something stronger than medicine to pull him back."
Anna didn't answer, only watched as Rachel went to work on other Pokémon.
She just reached down and held one of Zigzagoon's tiny, cold paws in hers — gently, as if reminding it how to be warm again.
"I'm useless here, and Rachel's right. Time to go and do something useful..."
The automatic doors of the Pokémon Center hissed shut behind Anna, muting the quiet hum of machines and the soft murmurs of caretakers inside. She paused just outside, letting the early afternoon sun settle onto her shoulders. It should have felt warm. Comforting. Instead, it felt like a spotlight — like the world was watching her carry this invisible weight.
Ziggy.
Still breathing, but only because of the machines.
She exhaled through her nose and began the slow descent down the gravel path that snaked toward the heart of the Battle Ranch. Each step crunched softly beneath her boots. The once-familiar sounds of Pokémon calls and trainer laughter had been replaced by a low tension that never quite left the air.
Her gaze drifted across the grounds.
Once, there had been freedom here. Back before the prince's visit. Before the Sleepers slithered in like poison through clean water. Back then, children ran across the training fields with Pikachus and Meowths nipping at their heels in play. Herds of Gogoat grazed freely near the orchard, watched lazily by a napping Arcanine. Pokémon had roamed like they belonged — not like bodyguards, not like shields.
Now, everyone moved in pairs. Or better in threes. Trainers kept their Poké-partners close, tense, hands often resting on their belts. She saw a teenage girl stride by with a sharp-eyed Mightyena at her side and a Bronzor floating defensively above her shoulder, as if any moment might demand a battle. Their eyes met briefly — the girl offered a stiff nod. Anna returned it, silently.
A few steps further, near the slope overlooking the southern glade, she saw them — a cluster of younger trainers, their jackets still too clean, their Pokémon small and skittish. They were gathered in a rough semicircle around an elderly figure who stood tall and lean despite her years. Ivana Brückner.
Anna slowed without thinking.
Ivana's voice carried with crisp clarity, tinged with the harsh edge of her Moravian accent. "Remember — Mirror Move is not prediction. It's patience. You wait. You study. Then you return what was given."
Beside her stood a towering Fearow, its feathers catching the wind like a battle-worn banner. Next to it, a Vespiquen hovered, her wings making a deep, thrumming hum that seemed to command reverence.
A young boy stepped forward and gave a signal. His Electrike barked once and unleashed a spark of electricity. In a flash, Fearow spread its wings wide and shimmered — and then, with startling accuracy, mirrored the attack back, a jagged arc of electricity lashing through the air and startling the Electrike into a yelp.
The kids gasped and scribbled notes. Ivana didn't flinch. "You see? This is not a trick. It is a very useful skill. Fearow can return every strike. You hit it — It copies the move right back at you. And when the Pokémon's skill is higher, the strike back can be much stronger than the initial move!"
Anna watched, and smile creeped on her face. Something was still normal around the place. The old bird still had it. So did Ivana. But for how much longer?
She remembered when Ivana used to have trainers in several hot air balloons as they trained the flying moves. Before the safety perimeter had been tripled. Before the Sleepers. Anna blinked and looked again at the students, so eager to learn, so unaware of how fragile it all was.
"How long do we have teachers like her?
How long before they're too tired, or too broken, to pass on what they know?"
Anna adjusted the scarf around her neck and continued on. The villa wasn't far. A group of Doduo clucked nervously behind a fence as she passed, their eyes flicking around with worry. Even the Pokémon had changed.
She pulled her coat tighter around her and muttered, "I know, guys. I don't feel safe either."
And so, step by step, she made her way home — past the wounded calm of the Ranch, past the ghosts of what it used to be — with only the weight of her thoughts to keep her company.
Anna entered the villa quietly, the familiar scent of pinewood walls and lemon balm drifting through the air like a comforting old song. The evening sun spilled through the tall windows, streaking the wooden floor with amber. Just inside, Joe's Ludicolo was sprawled across the living room carpet, cheerfully chewing on the last chunk of a mango. Its broad lily-pad arms waved lazily when it noticed her, and it let out a gurgling trill of recognition.
"At least you haven't changed," Anna murmured with a faint smile, patting the Pokémon's shoulder as she passed. "Still the happiest soul in this house."
From the next room, muffled voices floated toward her—heated, but not angry. She paused at the archway, catching the low timbre of her husband and the sharper, restless tone of her son.
"I'm telling you, we have to take Ramses seriously," Joe was saying.
"I'm not dismissing him," David replied. "But we can't let superstition steer everything. I'm trying to stay rational."
Anna stepped into the room, letting her presence speak for itself. Both men looked up. Joe gave a small nod in greeting. David, standing with his arms folded near the hearth, offered a stiff "Hi, Mom," before resuming his pacing.
She sat down in her armchair, joints stiff from the day's walk.
"I take it this conversation's been going in circles?"
"More like spirals," Joe said. "The kind that end with a ghost telling us the future and this one," he gestured at David, "trying to reason it away."
"I'm not trying to ignore it," David said, finally stopping to face them. "But I can't let everything ride on cryptic warnings from a Pokémon that speaks in riddles. I have responsibilities. As a Frontier Brain, I'm holding the line here with Pokémon under the League's cap. If I leave now, what happens to the Ranch?"
Anna's gaze softened, but her voice did not. "David. That same ghost just saved both of us from being slaughtered. You saw what he did. He didn't ask for thanks. He didn't hesitate. He just acted."
Joe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It wasn't the first time, either. Back when I was about Jake's age, Ramses warned us about a massive attack coming from the southern dam. No one believed him. Then came the tide—wild Water-types, hundreds of them. Gyarados, Crawdaunt, Tentacruel, Swampert... The whole town would have been lost if Ramses hadn't been there."
David let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing a little. "I'm not saying he's lying. But the world has changed. There are courts, policies, League approvals. If I start acting on ghost prophecies, the League might shut the whole place down."
Anna shook her head. "And if you're dead, who's left to run it?"
A silence fell over the room. Ludicolo stirred in the hallway, thumping its foot absently against the floorboards.
"We've already had three abductions by those Sleepers," Anna continued, her voice firmer now. "First Monika, dragged into the Distortion World. Then Jake and Frank—taken by poachers and nearly lost underground. And now you. Well, you, and me. Pulled to who-knows-where and nearly killed. I don't believe in a fourth chance. Do you?"
Joe nodded grimly. "That's why I've decided to write the League. I want them to consider a different system. Let us evaluate challengers based on skill and adaptability, not just a regular knockout match. If the threats are escalating, I want to show the world our stronger Pokémon—and that we are not afraid to use them."
David rubbed his forehead. "You think they'll approve that?"
"Not without a fight," Joe admitted. "But if the royal family backs the request... we have a shot."
Anna looked at her son. "You've made an impression on Prince Charles. He respects you. He watched several of your frontier matches and he was listening to every word you said. If we want to use his influence, now's the time."
David hesitated, eyes drifting toward the closed Poké Balls at his belt. One of them shifted slightly, as if the Pokémon inside sensed his turmoil. His voice, when it came, was low. "You really think we should go to the capital? Speak to Charles and the royals about this?"
"We're not abandoning reason," Joe said. "We're asking you to listen to what's already happening. Ghosts, cults, royal visitors—it's all connected. Somehow."
Anna reached out, placing a hand on David's wrist. "Ramses told Frank and Jakey you needed to go with the dragon people to survive. That doesn't sound like poetry or riddle to me. That sounds like a warning. And a very sound advice!"
David didn't speak for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's do it. Let's speak with Charles. But if we do this, we do it properly. We can't let this place fall into chaos."
Joe leaned back, letting out a long breath. "That's all we wanted to hear."
Anna smiled, faint but real. "Good. Now maybe even Ludicolo can finally relax."
In the hallway, the water Pokémon gave a sleepy snort, then resumed gnawing on the mango seed.
The family had fallen into a rare, comfortable silence after the weighty discussion about the royal court and the future. David leaned on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, head bowed slightly in thought, his earlier admission still lingering in the room.
Anna broke the silence first, brushing a stray lock of dyed black hair behind her ear as she looked between her husband and son. "Well," she said, her voice lighter now, "there's no point standing around looking dramatic. I've got a desk full of numbers waiting for me, so I don't want to be the only one working."
She fixed them both with a look, arching a brow. "Don't you two have something to do as well?"
David let out a short laugh and pushed off the counter.
"Yeah, we actually do. I put the matches on hold after the weekend incident, but someone registered for a challenge on Friday after finishing the qualifying battle. I'll check if he or she is still around."
He gave a half-wave and started toward the hallway.
"If the challenger is up for it, I'll take the match now."
"See you!" both his parents waved back at him.
"One to go. And what about you?" Anna turned to her husband with a raised eyebrow.
Joe chuckled and gave Anna an exaggerated bow. "Alright, General. Looks like I'm about to go training."
He tossed a Poké Ball into the air. "Oranguru, be a dear and get us to the grass battlefield."
In a flash of white light, Joe and his Oranguru vanished.
The sun met him first. The Teleport landed Joe squarely in the center of the grass battlefield just past the ranch's eastern ridge. The field was bordered by short fences and distant fruit trees, with the wide Bohemian sky yawning overhead.
Joe inhaled deeply. "Perfect."
With practiced ease, he plucked four Poké Balls from his belt and released his team.
The first to appear was Tauros. The muscular bull snorted fiercely, pawing at the grass with one heavy hoof. Its three tails flicked like whips, its tan coat already damp with effort. Next came Camerupt, its cratered humps steaming faintly, magma breath misting in the cool air. Herdier barked with sharp confidence, the tan-and-blue fur along its shoulders puffed up with pride. And last, the tiny but determined Rookidee swooped overhead and landed atop a fence post, wings twitching with pent-up energy.
Joe surveyed them with pride. This wasn't his strongest team—but they were coming along.
"Right," he called, clapping his hands. "Let's get to it."
He pointed to Tauros first. "Horn Attack into those boulders—tight movement, no wasted steps. Then Iron Head drills, followed by Raging Bull against the dummies."
Tauros gave a bellow and charged.
"To you, Camerupt. Scorching Sands, tight spiral pattern. Watch your edges. Then we'll go into Eruption simulations, and don't forget to boost yourself with Sunny Day."
Camerupt gave a low grunt and lumbered forward, kicking up streams of glowing, heated earth.
"Herdier—Play Rough against the weighted dummy, then Helping Hand drills with Tauros, and finish with quickfire Tackles between the cones."
The terrier barked once and dashed off.
"Rookidee," Joe said, turning last. "Drill Peck through the hanging targets, then Steel Wing through the posts. And throw in few Agilities, speed booster is always useful."
Rookidee chirped and darted into the air with a burst of navy and silver feathers.
For the next several minutes, the field rang with motion and noise: dummies cracking under Tauros' relentless charges, scorched lines forming in Camerupt's wake, and Rookidee slicing through the air like a thrown blade. Joe moved among them like a coach at boot camp—offering quick shouts, gentle corrections, and the occasional chuckle when Herdier tripped over its own bounding enthusiasm.
"Rookidee, tighter turns! Tauros, don't lower your head so early!" he called.
But as he reached to adjust a cone near the training track, movement caught his eye. A group of trainers approached the field—five in total, looking freshly rested and well-equipped. They walked with the eager, awkward rhythm of those on the cusp of confidence, their eyes full of challenge.
Joe whistled sharply, and his team eased to a halt. "Everyone, take five!" he called.
"Hello," he added with a chuckle when the group of trainers approached the fence to watch.
"I'm not showing you my tricks yet," he thought with eyes on the trainers.
"Excuse me, Mr. Lindenberg," one of them called. "We were hoping to get in some battles. Is this field still in use?"
Joe grinned and nodded toward the now-resting Pokémon. "It's all yours while they rest. Just finishing up drills."
One of the trainers stepped forward. He looked about twenty-two, with short blonde hair, a dark scarf around his neck, and a Poké Ball pouch strapped with purpose to his hip.
"I'm Matthias Valenta," he said, offering a handshake. "I've been training for the Dancing Dragon Cup next month. Made top sixteen last year."
Joe accepted the handshake, firm but casual. "Hello Matthias. Good tournament, I've seen most of it in TV."
Matthias hesitated, then added, "I know this is a stretch, but would you be open to a one-on-six battle?"
Joe's eyebrow twitched up. "That so?"
Matthias nodded quickly. "I'd like to test my full team. One at a time. Against one of your older, high-level Pokémon. I know I won't probably win, but I'd like a benchmark—something real."
Joe's chuckle rumbled in his chest. "You've got guts. I'll give you that."
He turned to the side, calling out a Poké Ball with a spin of his wrist.
With a flash and a roar, Emboar materialized on the field, his massive frame shaking the ground. The fire around his neck flared to life, swirling with heat.
One of the trainers stepped back, eyes wide. "Is that… a seven-star?"
Joe's grin turned sly. "Nope. Eight. Feel free to scan him."
The group all whipped out their phones or Pokédexes. A chorus of beeps and a unified gasp followed.
===
Level: 85
Name: N/A
Gender: Male
Type: Fire / Fighting
Affinity: Fire (Full), Fighting (Full), Ground (Beginner)
Moves: Arm Thrust (76 to 79), Wood Hammer (81 to 83), Flame Charge (79), Rollout (74 to 77), Focus Blast (80 to 81), Flamethrower (82 to 84), Mud Slap (74), Low Kick (73 to 74), Bulldoze (73 to 77), Low Sweep (79), Sunny Day (67 to 70), Bulk Up (69), Fire Punch (63 to 66), Poison Jab (66 to 69), Iron Head (72 to 74), Flare Blitz (80 to 84), Earthquake (78), Blast Burn (61 to 68), Hyper Beam (67 to 69), Close Combat (77), Sucker Punch (62 to 69)
Abilities:
Blaze – Powers up Fire-type moves when Emboar's health is low
Reckless – Powers up move that have recoil damage
Weak to: Flying, Ground, (Psychic, Water)
Resistant to: Bug (2x), Steel, Fire, Grass, Ice, Dark
Weakness Removed: Psychic, Water
===
"Level eighty-five…"
"Tha't so freaking high!!"
"What a beast..."
They all were amazed by the sight of such mighty creature.
"Emboar, ready?" Joe said. The fire-type cracked his knuckles and gave a nod, smoke curling from his nostrils.
Matthias took a deep breath and unhooked his first Poké Ball.
Joe shifted his stance and called out, "Let's start!"
A breeze rustled the tall grass surrounding the edge of the battlefield. The late autumn sun cast long shadows from the trees, and Emboar's broad figure stood at the center of the field, nostrils steaming, fists clenched with quiet anticipation. Joe Lindenberg adjusted his jacket and raised a hand toward his challenger.
"So, Matthias... You sure you want to go through with this?"
The younger trainer nodded with a confident but respectful energy. His eyes held focus, but also a flicker of excitement.
"I know I won't win," Matthias said with a grin. "But if I can make one of your high levelled Pokémon sweat, or even bring it to one knee, I'll be proud."
Joe chuckled. "All right. Let's make it worth your while."
Several younger trainers gathered near the sidelines, whispering with awe.
"I've never seen such powerful Pokémon with my own eyes," one of them muttered.
"Dude, you scanned that. The beast's an eight-star!"
"I can't wait to see it fight…"
Matthias stepped back, raising his first Poké Ball. "Talonflame, you're first!"
A burst of fire and feathers, and the elegant Talonflame soared upward with a piercing cry. Its wings glinted red and gold.
Joe gave a sharp nod. "Emboar—stand firm and watch its patterns."
"Tailwind!" Matthias ordered.
Talonflame zipped in a blazing arc overhead, flapping rapidly. A wave of wind swept across the field, rippling Joe's coat and giving a burst of speed to Matthias' Pokémon.
Joe squinted. "Start easy—Flamethrower, now!"
Emboar's fire-bearded mouth flared open. A steady, focused stream of flames blasted upward. Talonflame swooped to the left, but the edge of the fire singed its wing.
"Ugh—okay, Will-O-Wisp!"
Ghostly blue fireballs circled and spiraled toward Emboar. Joe snapped, "Sidestep and Flame Charge!"
Emboar tucked low and surged forward, narrowly avoiding the wisps as they scattered behind it. Its body ignited in a burst of flames, and it struck Talonflame mid-dive.
A clean hit.
Talonflame skidded along the ground, wings splayed.
"Back up, now!" Matthias yelled.
But it was too late. Joe gave the signal. "Finish it. Iron Head."
Emboar lunged forward with incredible speed and slammed its iron-shod skull down—Talonflame was down.
Matthias returned it with a sigh. "Knew that would happen. But let's continue, Luxray, your turn!"
A streak of black and blue fur hit the ground. Luxray's red eyes narrowed, and Emboar released the wave of pressure—its muscles tensed, power slightly dampened.
"Thunder Wave!"
Luxray darted sideways and loosed a web of electricity. Joe growled, "You're faster—Poison Jab! Go!"
Emboar charged in, arm glowing purple—but paralysis struck, locking its limbs.
Electricity crackled along its shoulders.
Luxray took the chance—"Crunch!"
It lunged and clamped down on Emboar's arm. Joe barked, "Shake it—Bulk Up, let's go!"
Veins pulsed. Emboar roared and flexed, building its strength back up, slamming Luxray off its arm.
Matthias narrowed his eyes. "One more Crunch, then switch!"
"Iron Head!" Joe snapped.
They clashed mid-attack—Emboar's metallic forehead smashing into Luxray's ribs. The feline let out a yowl and collapsed.
"Luxray, return. Gastrodon, fight!"
Gastrodon emerged with a sluggish gurgle, its body wobbling like gelatin.
Fire started to spin around Emboar, but Joe stopped his Pokémon. "Careful here. Fire won't do much."
"Muddy Water!" Matthias shouted.
A wave of swampy sludge rushed across the field, drenching Emboar and forcing it to brace.
"Push through—Bulldoze!"
Emboar stomped hard. The ground cracked and shifted. Gastrodon flinched, slowed—but retaliated with Recover, glowing gently.
Joe chuckled. "Let's do this… Wood Hammer!"
Emboar hurled itself forward. Green energy surged from its arm as the super-effective move crashed into Gastrodon's soft body. The ground quaked from the impact—and when the dust settled, Gastrodon was out cold.
But Emboar staggered back, panting.
That recoil hurt.
"Alright, you managed to hit him. Thank you and rest," Matthias recalled his Gastrodon, before tossing up another Pokéball.
"Your turn," he smirked towards the small red-and-white device. "Let's test your trickery."
Togedemaru burst out and immediately Fake Out'd—Emboar flinched and was unable to react to Joe's instructions.
"Snap out of it. Use Flamethrower!"
But Emboar was just panting and not moving at all.
"Nuzzle!" Matthias added, and the tiny electric-type zipped up Emboar's side and shocked it. The paralysis intensified.
Joe's eyes narrowed. "That's enough of that—Flare Blitz! Burn it down!"
A chorus of gasps as Emboar lit up like a meteor. He charged through the field, engulfed in flame, and smashed into the small Togedemaru. It was over in one strike.
But Emboar dropped to one knee, panting heavily, body scorched from its own attack.
"You're something else, young man. Emboar is down on one knee. Let's see what you have next!" Joe said with chuckle.
"Haxorus, your turn!"
The dragon roared, axe-like tusks gleaming.
"That is one fine Pokémon!" Joe praised his opponent.
"And strong, too. Dragon Dance!"
Joe decided to use the time to boost Emboar as well—"Bulk Up!"
But Haxorus surprised him—"Taunt!"
Emboar's move failed.
"Well done." Joe commented appreciatively.
Both Matthias and Haxorus grinned savagely and the Pokémon slammed his massive leg into the ground—Earthquake!
Emboar grunted as it was thrown sideways by the super-effective move. But it still rose.
Joe's voice cracked with amusement. "Close Combat!!"
"Dragon Claw!"
With a burst of power and speed, Emboar dashed in and delivered a serie of crushing blows to Haxorus' chest, before the draconic creature could even charge energy to prepare its move and fight back.
"No!"
The dragon groaned and fell.
"Thank you. Now my last ace. Go all in!"
Gallade emerged, silent as a blade.
Joe smiled at the sight of the Pokémon. He could see that it was very well trained and high-levelled fighter. He whispered, "Take the next hit, my friend. Let's see how strong this guy is."
"Psycho Cut!" Matthias commanded.
A blade of psychic energy shimmered and sliced through the field—Emboar didn't dodge.
The giant fire behemoth fell to a knee one more time, smoke still trailing from its shoulders.
"Well done! Thank you, Emboar."
Joe recalled the exhausted monster to its Pokéball.
Matthias was staring at the field and at his Gallade. "I… I almost took one down. Thank you."
Joe grinned. "You earned it. Smart use of status moves, of speed, and terrain. If this had been an official battle, I would consider giving you our frontier symbol."
The kids on the sidelines erupted into applause and chatter.
"Did you see that Close Combat?!"
"Emboar was a total beast, man!"
"Reckless really is reckless…"
Joe turned to his younger Pokémon. "Do you think you could take six Pokémon like that? If yes, you can rest. But if not, the break is over."
Tauros, Camerupt, Herdier and Rookidee quickly rose up and started to execute their moves to get better.
"Sir, thank you. For the opportunity!" Matthias approached Joe.
"No, thank you, young man. This was actually quite fun. And just for you information, if the League approves, I'd like to start accepting challengers in the exact same way how you just fought."
"But the Frontier Brain is your son David, isn't he?" Matthias frowned.
"Well, Frontier Brain is a Lindenberg!" Joe laughed.
And speaking of Frontier Brain…