"RHYYY!"
Rhyperior launched itself skyward. Despite its enormous mass—over three hundred kilograms of armored stone and muscle—the Drill Pokémon's raw physical power was more than sufficient to propel it several meters into the air. The preceding charge had already closed most of the distance to Torterra's position, and the leap carried Rhyperior the rest of the way, arcing through the lingering smoke like a falling meteor.
"Watch the sky!" Terran called out immediately, reading Gary's intent. "Torterra—when you see Rhyperior coming down, hit it with Bullet Seed!"
"TERRA!"
Torterra tilted its massive head upward, staring into the billowing smoke above. Its eyes scanned the dark, swirling clouds—and then it saw it. A shadow moving within the haze. A massive silhouette, growing rapidly larger as it plummeted downward.
Torterra opened its mouth and unleashed a rapid-fire barrage of Bullet Seed—glowing golden-green energy pellets, each the size of a marble, launched in a continuous stream directly at the descending Rhyperior.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
The seeds struck Rhyperior's armored body in rapid succession—pelting its chest, its arms, its drill-horn. Each impact sparked against the stone hide like pebbles hitting a castle wall.
And that was precisely the problem. Bullet Seed was a Grass-type move, yes—super effective against Rhyperior's Rock/Ground typing. But it was a multi-hit move with low base power per individual seed. Even with EX Solid Rock only halving the super-effective multiplier rather than eliminating it entirely, each individual seed was simply too weak to meaningfully damage a Champion-tier Pokémon descending at terminal velocity. It was like trying to stop a landslide with a garden hose.
Rhyperior didn't even flinch.
BOOOOM!!
Three hundred kilograms of armored Pokémon slammed down directly on top of Torterra. Body Slam—a full-weight impact that transferred every Newton of gravitational force and momentum directly into the Continent Pokémon's body. The arena floor cratered beneath them. Cracks radiated outward like a shattered mirror. The impact shook the entire stadium, rattling the empty seats in the spectator stands.
"TERRA—!!"
Torterra's legs buckled. Its massive body was driven flat against the ground, pinned beneath Rhyperior's crushing weight. The tree on its back shuddered, leaves scattering into the Sandstorm. Torterra strained to rise—its powerful legs pushing against the earth, its muscles trembling with desperate effort—but Rhyperior's mass was overwhelming, and Torterra couldn't generate enough leverage to throw it off.
"Ice Punch!" Gary ordered. No hesitation. No mercy.
"RHYYY."
Rhyperior raised its right fist. Frost crystallized around its knuckles in an instant—blue-white cold energy condensing so rapidly that the air crackled and fogged. The massive fist drove downward into Torterra's exposed back with precise, devastating force.
CRACK!!
The Ice Punch detonated on impact. A wave of freezing energy erupted outward from the point of contact, spreading across Torterra's shell in a rapidly expanding sheet of ice. Within seconds, half of the Continent Pokémon's body was encased in frost—its legs frozen in place, the tree on its back rimmed with glittering ice crystals, its movements stilled entirely.
Ice was four-times effective against Torterra's Grass/Ground typing. Even at Level 46, even with its substantial natural bulk, Torterra couldn't withstand a four-times effective Ice Punch from a Level 63 Champion-tier Rhyperior delivered at point-blank range on top of the accumulated damage from Body Slam.
Torterra's eyes glazed over. Its body went slack beneath the ice.
From the referee's position, Yuko's face was a portrait of devastation. She'd watched Torterra take the field with renewed hope—Grass-type advantage, four-times effective against Rock/Ground, this is our chance!—only to watch that hope get systematically demolished in the span of three exchanges.
The Grass Knot had worked. It had been a brilliant tactical play by her father, perfectly timed and perfectly executed. But it hadn't been enough to finish Rhyperior, and everything after that had been a slow-motion catastrophe.
Yuko clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. The Scorching Sands TM was gone. She'd known it the moment Hippowdon fell, but watching Torterra—the Pokémon she'd pinned all her remaining hopes on—freeze solid under Rhyperior's fist made the loss feel real in a way that hurt somewhere deep behind her ribs.
But she was the referee. And the referee had a job to do.
"Torterra is unable to battle," Yuko announced, her voice tight but steady. "Rhyperior wins."
Terran recalled Torterra without a word. His expression was calm—perhaps calmer than it should have been, given that he'd just lost two of his three Pokémon to a single opponent that hadn't been substituted once. But Terran had been a Gym Leader for over a decade. He'd faced trainers who swept his entire team before. It happened. It was part of the job.
What mattered was how you handled the loss.
"Let's finish this properly," he said, his voice carrying the quiet dignity of a man who knew he was outmatched but refused to surrender his principles. "Gliscor—I'm counting on you."
He threw his final Poké Ball.
[LV48 Gliscor — Elite-tier]
Gliscor materialized in mid-air—a sleek, bat-like Pokémon with a scorpion's tail and membrane wings spread wide. Its body was dark purple, its eyes gleaming with sharp intelligence, and its pincers clicked together with predatory precision. The Ground/Flying dual-type immediately caught an updraft within the Sandstorm and began circling the arena at height, staying well out of Rhyperior's immediate reach.
Gliscor, Gary noted. Ground/Flying. Its Ability is almost certainly Sand Veil—evasion boost in Sandstorm. That's why Hippowdon was the lead: set up sand with Sand Stream, then let Gliscor benefit from Sand Veil's evasion increase. It's a solid strategy.
But Terran sent Torterra second instead of Gliscor because I led with Rhyperior. He adjusted his rotation to exploit the Grass-type advantage rather than sticking to his planned sequence. Smart adaptation—but it cost him his anti-Ground option before Gliscor even took the field.
Gary didn't substitute Rhyperior. There was no need. Despite the damage from Grass Knot earlier, the Drill Pokémon was still standing strong—battered but functional, with more than enough fight left in it.
"Rhyperior—Smack Down!" Gary ordered.
"RHYYY!"
Rhyperior raised both arms and aimed its open palms at Gliscor circling overhead. The holes in Rhyperior's palms—the same apertures it used to launch Rock Wrecker projectiles—glowed with condensed Rock-type energy.
BANG!!
A chunk of compressed stone rocketed from Rhyperior's palm like a cannon shot, screaming through the air toward Gliscor at blinding speed. Smack Down—a Rock-type move specifically designed to knock Flying-type and airborne Pokémon out of the sky. If it connected, Gliscor would lose its aerial advantage and be grounded.
The projectile tore through the Sandstorm, closing the distance in less than a heartbeat.
"X-Scissor—deflect it!" Terran commanded.
Gliscor swept its pincers forward, crossing them in an X-shaped guard. The glowing blades of Bug-type energy met the incoming stone head-on.
CRACK!
The collision jolted Gliscor backward through the air—the raw force behind Rhyperior's Smack Down was tremendous, far exceeding what Gliscor's X-Scissor could cleanly deflect. The Bug-type energy absorbed some of the impact, preventing a direct hit, but the shockwave alone sent Gliscor tumbling, its wings flaring desperately to stabilize.
But Rhyperior wasn't done.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
More stones. A continuous barrage of Smack Down projectiles erupted from both of Rhyperior's palms in rapid succession—each one a compressed boulder fired with the velocity of a cannonball, each one tracking Gliscor's airborne position with relentless accuracy. The Drill Pokémon had turned itself into a living anti-aircraft battery, filling the sky above the arena with a curtain of Rock-type projectiles.
Gliscor twisted and banked, trying to evade—Sand Veil's evasion boost working in its favor, causing one stone to sail past its wing and another to graze its tail. But the volume of fire was simply too high. There were too many projectiles, coming too fast, from too powerful a source.
The third stone caught Gliscor in the side, smashing through its guard. The fourth struck its wing membrane, destabilizing its flight.
Gliscor's trajectory faltered. It wobbled—fought to maintain altitude—
And fell.
The Ground/Flying-type hit the arena floor hard, raising a plume of sand and dust. It tried to push itself up on trembling pincers, its wings folded at awkward angles—but its eyes were unfocused, its movements sluggish. The accumulated damage was too much. The level gap too wide.
Gliscor's head dropped to the sand. It didn't rise again.
Silence settled over the arena, broken only by the fading howl of the Sandstorm—Hippowdon's weather finally beginning to dissipate without its source Pokémon on the field.
Yuko stood at the referee's position, staring at the fallen Gliscor with an expression that mixed resignation, frustration, and grudging respect in roughly equal measure. She drew a slow breath.
"Gliscor is unable to battle," she announced. Her voice was quieter now—not weak, but somber. The weight of the outcome had settled on her young shoulders. "All three of Gym Leader Terran's Pokémon have been defeated. The winner of this Gym battle… is the challenger, Gary."
The match was over. A clean 3-0 sweep. Rhyperior hadn't been substituted once.
Both trainers recalled their Pokémon. Terran held Gliscor's Poké Ball for a moment, looking down at it with an expression of quiet gratitude before clipping it to his belt. Then he walked across the arena to meet Gary at the center.
"Congratulations," Terran said, extending his hand. In his other palm, he held a small badge—cast in earthy brown and silver, shaped like a stylized terrain formation. "This is the Terrain Badge—proof of your victory at the Silvercrown Gym."
"Thank you," Gary said, shaking his hand and accepting the Badge. He placed it in his case alongside the others.
[Ding! Mission complete. Both objectives fulfilled. Rewards deposited into system storage.]
Yuko approached from the sideline. Her jaw was set, and her eyes were bright—not with tears, but with the stubborn fire of someone who had lost a bet and intended to honor it with dignity, even if it stung.
She held out the Scorching Sands TM case.
"This is yours," she said simply.
Gary paused. Part of him considered refusing—the level gap had made the wager fundamentally unfair, and taking a young girl's prized TM after steamrolling her father's team felt a bit like taking candy from a child. But Yuko had extended the TM with steady hands and a straight back. She wasn't asking for pity. She was fulfilling her end of a deal she'd chosen to make.
Refusing would be more insulting than accepting.
"Thank you," Gary said, and took the TM.
Yuko nodded once, sharply, then turned away—but not before Gary caught the faintest glimmer of moisture at the corner of her eye, quickly blinked away.
With the battle concluded, the atmosphere in the Gym shifted from competitive tension to something more conversational. Terran, to his credit, showed no bitterness about the loss. He'd spent a decade as a Gym Leader and had been swept before—it came with the territory. What interested him now was something else entirely.
"Gary," Terran said, his tone shifting to something more personal. "Do you have any plans for the Peat Block? Are you intending to use it yourself?"
"No," Gary replied honestly. "I don't have an Ursaring, and I don't plan on raising one. The Peat Block has been sitting in my inventory unused."
Terran's eyes sharpened with undisguised interest. "Then would you consider trading it? I'll be direct—I've wanted to raise an Ursaluna for years. I know the species exists, and I know it gains Ground typing upon evolution. The forests around Silvercrown Town are full of wild Ursaring. All I've ever lacked is the evolution item." He straightened. "Name your price. I'm willing to pay whatever it takes."
Gary considered. Money was meaningless to him—he had more than enough, and the things he truly needed couldn't be bought in stores. What he wanted was practical: Pokémon.
His mind had already been turning toward the Unova Region. After the Lily of the Valley Conference, that was where his journey would take him next, and he wanted to begin building a roster of Unova-native Pokémon ahead of time. Currently, the only Pokémon from Unova in his collection was Pawniard—and Pawniard's final evolution, Bisharp, was a Dark/Steel-type, not traditionally considered a regional representative in the same way a starter or iconic species would be.
He needed more. And the Silvercrown Gym was an old, well-established institution with generational ties to Ground-type breeding programs. There was a chance—slim, perhaps, but worth asking—that Terran had connections to breeders in other regions.
"I don't need money," Gary said. "What I need is a Pokémon."
Terran nodded immediately. "Name the species."
"I'm looking for Ground-type Pokémon native to the Unova Region specifically," Gary said. "High-potential specimens, preferably young enough to raise from scratch. Do you have any way to source a Drilbur or a Sandile?"
Terran's eyebrows rose slightly. Drilbur and Sandile were both excellent choices—Drilbur evolved into Excadrill, one of the most powerful Ground/Steel-types in existence, and Sandile evolved into Krookodile, a fearsome Ground/Dark-type with excellent offensive capabilities. Both were staples of competitive Unova-region teams.