In just a few seconds of offense–defense switches, the tide turned again.
The leaders' seemingly sure-fire joint assault was defused by Jason with a single Protect and one perfectly timed counter. On top of that, their main attacker, Gallade, had been heavily wounded.
"Yo, that was—" Ryme whistled, her face turning serious for the first time. "A slick counter, kid."
Even Tulip lost her composure. She eyed her Gallade, breathing hard, brows knitting. She hadn't expected that even post–Swords Dance, Gallade would still get tagged so hard. Jason's calling was too cool—unflustered by the buff, baiting their urge to press and springing a trap: Iron Valiant's Protect to eat the lighter Shadow Claw, then Gast cashing Close Combat's defensive drop for a lethal Hex. Clear idea, clean execution.
"Looks like we really can't treat you like any ordinary rookie," Tulip said, newly solemn.
"The battle's just begun," Jason replied. He knew, even with momentum, this wasn't over. Gallade still hit like a truck. And the unmasked Mimikyu—that was the real danger.
He held the tempo—but the string called "tempo" was pulled tauter and tauter.
Center stage, Gallade dropped to one knee, panting hard. Shadow energy seeped into its Hex-marked back, eroding stamina—a big hit with lingering fallout.
For the first time, Tulip's poise cracked; she calculated Gallade's remaining strength—grim. "We're not done," Jason said, voice carrying. "Gast—add a little something. Will-O-Wisp."
Tulip's pupils pinched. The thing she feared most—there it was. With Gallade slowed by injury, dodging a homing debuff was a tall task.
"Heh!" Gast cackled; a tiny azure flame budded in her paw and drifted lazily toward Gallade. Slow—but locked to his aura with a psychic hook.
"Gallade—evade!" Tulip ordered. Gritting through pain, Gallade rolled aside—but the flame curved in a perfect arc and kissed his body. No blast, no immediate damage—just a pale blue halo clinging to the impact point.
Burn.
It drains stamina—and more deadly, halves a physical attacker's power. Tulip's heart sank. Her spear had been blunted—Swords Dance erased, even reversed.
"Nice work, Gast," Jason nodded. Now the scale rested fully on his side. The spear broken, it was time to split the field and pick them off.
"Tactics shift," he said lightly. "Gast—keep Gallade busy. Shadow Ball pressure." "Iron Valiant—delete the Mimikyu."
They split instantly. Gast blurred into shadow, only her red eyes glowing—circling Gallade at high speed. Purple afterimages flickered under the lights.
Bang! A tight Shadow Ball flew from a wicked angle, grazing his cheek and blowing a shallow crater behind him. He spun to guard—another ball ripped in from the opposite side.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The field boomed with Shadow Ball bursts. Gast became a ghostly gun platform, kiting and shelling Gallade from all sides—meant not to finish him, but to keep him scrambling, unable to lend a hand.
Tulip's face soured. She ordered defense and counters to little effect; burn and wounds left Gallade a half-step slow—toyed with and helpless.
On the other front, Iron Valiant squared with Mimikyu.
"Come on then, Iron Valiant—let me hear how hard your core hits!" Ryme's sing-song returned, fingers ticking time in the air. "Mimikyu—Shadow Claw; show 'em some color!"
Unmasked, Mimikyu's savage urge spiked. No more pretending—it flattened, a black streak skimming the floor. At the last instant a pure-dark claw tore from beneath the rag, raking for Iron Valiant's chest—from a blind angle.
Iron Valiant didn't watch—he felt the energy flow; the line was already locked. Ching! The left blade popped and knocked the claw aside at an impossible angle—sparks lighting the clash.
"Psycho Cut," Jason said, crisp. The right blade fell—a soft-violet arc, simple and fatal, for the core.
"Down into the shadow, baby!" Ryme snapped. Mimikyu went ghostly; in the heartbeat before contact, it sank into the shadow at Iron Valiant's feet—the Cut biting empty air. It re-emerged meters behind in a pool of light's shadow.
"That's it—keep your rhythm," Ryme snapped her fingers. "Slip—strike—slip again. That's our freestyle!"
Under her rhythmic lead, Mimikyu's skirmishing went to eleven—hopping shadow to shadow, throwing claws at joints, back, soft spots. Iron Valiant kept turning, catching each swipe—but danced to Mimikyu's beat, no counter-window in sight.
"Bit of a problem," Jason muttered, chin in hand. Ryme's style, like her, broke rules—turning the fight into her stage, every step on beat. The weird rhythm jammed Iron Valiant's precision-engineered flow.
"Hey Tulip—quit spectating—little help?" Ryme called. Tulip had been waiting; seeing Iron Valiant tied up, she took the shot.
"Gallade—now! Psycho Cut to support Mimikyu!" Even burned, Gallade was a Psychic ace. Blades flared, and two crescent slashes scissored across the field—aimed not to hit Iron Valiant, but to choke his movement and open angles for Mimikyu.
They got halfway—then two Shadow Balls knifed in from the flank and blew them apart. Boom—boom—shockwaves shredding Tulip's plan.
"Your opponent is me." Gast's voice drifted from everywhere, teasing. She pinned Gallade while watching the mainline—giving Tulip no shot to assist.
"Damn—" Tulip bit down. For the first time in a gym match, she felt powerless—every plan read and checked.
Jason smiled—Gast's growth pleased him. With Gallade isolated, the field split into two 1v1s. Time to break the stalemate.
"Iron Valiant—stop dancing to her beat," he said. "Make our own."
A flash in the optics—order received. The next time Mimikyu popped from shadow with a claw for the booster on Iron Valiant's back, he didn't turn to block. He did the unexpected—he didn't dodge—he let it hit.
Zzztt!
The claw carved sparks and deep gouges in metal. "What?" Ryme blinked. Bulldozing a hit wasn't his style. But that one eaten strike bought a priceless moment—no need to turn; he saved those tenths of a second that decide fights.
Mimikyu, claw landing, started to slip away—only to find its talon pinched in place. The armor plates had shifted micro-millimeters—clamping the energy claw.
A hitch—just an instant.
"Now!" Jason's pupils pinched. "Iron Valiant—Spirit Break!"
"Rrr!" Iron Valiant growled low—torqued hard—and the right blade burst in brilliant pink. Not a cutting sharpness now—but a sacred, untouchable weight. Fairy power—super effective on Ghost.
"Bad—break free!" For the first time, Ryme's cadence stumbled.
Too late. Iron Valiant took the heartbeat and brought the fairy blade down like a mountain—right on Mimikyu's tiny core.
Boom!
Pink flooded the field, swallowing the doll. A shriek not of this world ripped the air. When the light died, Mimikyu lay prone—rag even more tattered, core unconscious and still.
Silence. Even the DJ lost the beat for a breath.
"One down," Jason exhaled.
Ryme stared at the fallen Mimikyu, mouth working, no sound. Beaten at her own game—her rhythm broken by a harder, sharper beat.
With its anchor gone, the result was no longer in doubt.
"Over," Jason said, turning to the last Gallade. Tulip knew it too. Heavy wounds, burn, and two fresh opponents—no path to victory. She didn't throw it.
"Gallade—one last Close Combat!" she called. With a defiant cry, Gallade charged Iron Valiant one final time.
"Gast—Shadow Ball. Iron Valiant—Psycho Cut," Jason said, voice flat.
Gast appeared in Gallade's lane—Shadow Ball already formed—and slammed it in. Iron Valiant flanked, blade sweeping in from the other side.
Flanked—nowhere to run.
~~~
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