The chill of the wound spray made Murkrow flinch, his crimson eyes narrowing.
A shiver ran through his feathers before he turned those same blood-tinged eyes toward the Scizor across the arena.
"Kraaa!"
The dark avian's cry pierced through the air, sharp and wild, his feathers flaring as if ignited by battle itself.
Silas's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. His gaze shimmered with restrained madness.
"Yes… that's it, Murkrow," he murmured. "Push through the pain. Break your limits in desperation-grow stronger in danger!"
For a moment, trainer and Pokémon locked eyes.
Their wills resonated,two beings bound by the same relentless drive.
"Now, let's welcome our contestants!"
The announcer's voice boomed across the arena, met with thunderous applause.
Silas steadied his breathing and stepped forward.
His expression was calm, unreadable beneath the half-mask, as he walked into the roaring lights of the stage.
His opponent stood opposite-a tall man whose gaze held faint contempt.
He smirked slightly upon seeing Silas's smooth skin and youthful build, already underestimating him.
But what caught Silas's attention was something else: the man wasn't wearing a mask.
The referee raised a hand.
"Battle-begin!"
Two Poké Balls flew into the air, bursting open in twin flashes of light.
Murkrow spread his wings with a fierce cry, while Scizor landed with a metallic thud, its claws gleaming like polished blades.
"Scizor, use Bullet Punch!"
A flash of red lightning tore through the air as Scizor lunged forward at blinding speed.
Its metal fists blurred-each strike faster than the eye could follow.
"Tailwind!" Silas commanded coolly.
"Krawww!"
A swirling breeze erupted around Murkrow, wrapping him in wind.
With a quick twist, the crow slipped past Scizor's strike-the gust aiding his graceful dodge.
Scizor landed heavily, the arena trembling beneath its feet. Its movements were lightning-fast-worthy of the nickname Crimson Bolt.
"Scizor, close the distance! Use Fury Cutter!"
Scizor's feet slammed against the floor with an echoing crack!
It dashed forward-each step faster than the last, blurring halfway across the ring in seconds.
But Murkrow was already gone, weaving through the air with Tailwind's blessing.
"Stay light on your wings," Silas ordered. "Use Gust,keep him chasing!"
"Kraa!"
Murkrow flapped hard, conjuring twin whirlwinds that struck downward.
The currents tangled with Scizor's movements, forcing the steel insect to adjust its rhythm mid-dash.
The audience roared-eyes locked on the red and black streaks flashing through the arena like two clashing comets.
Even the cameras struggled to keep up.
The heavy beat of battle music thundered through the hall, fueling the crowd's excitement.
At the same time, the announcer's voice cut in again, reminding spectators that betting would close in thirty seconds-spurring another wave of shouts and wagers.
The Battle Club's sponsors knew exactly how to play the crowd.
This match was different.
A duel between an eight-win veteran and a nine-win challenger-an apex fight in the Beginner Arena.
Every seat was filled, every heartbeat pounding.
"Tailwind again-then Astonish!"
A resonant screech split the air "Kraaaaw!"
Scizor clutched at its head, pincers trembling as a brief wave of dizziness overtook it.
"Now! Drill Peck!"
Murkrow spun midair, his beak glowing with a pale, metallic light before plunging like a falling star.
"Krooow!"
"Scizor, Protect!"
A transparent barrier flickered to life just in time—Murkrow's strike collided with it, sending a flash of light across the arena.
"Now counter with Metal Claw!"
Scizor's claws shone silver as it swung upward.
The blow nearly connected but Murkrow, propelled by Tailwind, twisted away by less than a feather's width.
Silas exhaled quietly. 'That attack stat… 130 base power. One clean hit and Murkrow's done.'
The match tightened, tension thick as wire.
Murkrow circled high, his breaths sharp and uneven.
Scizor stood below, red armor glinting, faint fatigue showing in its legwork.
Then Silas noticed it-a slight stumble in the insect's stride.
"…There. The left leg."
He squinted, catching the faint distortion of movement.
"That wound's deeper than it looks."
"Murkrow!" he barked. "Target the left leg-Gust!"
Murkrow flared his wings, twisting in the air before launching two slicing whirlwinds-one from each side.
"Scizor, dodge it!"
The opponent's shout came too late.
Scizor tried to leap, but a piercing shriek-"Kraaaa!"-rang across the field. The Dark-type cry echoed like a sonic blade, making Scizor flinch in agony.
"Now! End it with Wing Attack!"
Murkrow dived, wings glowing white.
"KRAAWW!"
The strike slammed into Scizor's weakened leg with explosive force.
A sharp clang! rang out before the Steel-type collapsed, clutching its limb in pain.
"Scizor is unable to battle! Murkrow wins!"
The referee's voice was nearly drowned by the eruption of the crowd.
Ten consecutive victories.
A streak unseen in nearly half a year.
And the one who achieved it-the masked trainer known only as Black Sky.
The stadium shook with chants:
"Black Sky! Black Sky! Black Sky!"
Silas lowered his arm, glancing once at the fallen Scizor.
The leg injury was severe-its trainer's reckless evolution had burned away the Pokémon's future potential.
Without immediate expert healing, that leg might never recover.
But Silas's expression didn't waver.
'…Not my concern.'
A cold smile tugged at his lips,his eyes reflecting a flash of ruthless resolve.
It was the look of someone shaped by battle, by necessity and by choice.
From the stands, a familiar voice scoffed with amusement.
"That look…"
The red-haired punk with the mohawk leaned forward, resting one boot on his seat. "Now that's how a true Dark-type trainer should look."
He caught the murmurs of irritation from nearby spectators, but ignored them-tossing his Poké Ball casually in one hand, his smirk widening.
"Things are finally getting interesting."
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