The construction of a medieval-style brick kiln was no small undertaking. To avoid disturbing the townsfolk, Lucien had ordered it built on a vacant stretch of land near the outskirts of the territory.
Under his direction, the workers began work immediately, using previously fired bricks to form the foundation.
The kiln design was simple but effective, much like those Lucien remembered from his old world. It consisted of three main components:
The main chamber, a vaulted cavity where the raw bricks were stacked and fired.
The ventilation system, a network of air intakes and exhaust ducts that kept the flames burning evenly.
The chimney, which drew the heat upward, channeling smoke and hot air through the structure.
Ordinarily, such a project would have taken weeks to finish. But with the help of the two Machoke, who carried stones and bricks faster than any team of men could manage, construction wrapped up in just a few days.
Once the kiln was ready, workers began stacking shaped clay bricks inside, layering them neatly before pouring in coal for fuel.
At the blacksmith Morik's signal, the Simsear took a deep breath, then unleashed a roaring jet of flame into the furnace.
The coals caught instantly.
A dull red glow spread across the kiln's interior as the temperature soared. Within hours, the pale clay bricks began to harden, glowing faintly like embers in the heat.
By dusk, the first batch of fired bricks had been completed, the first true bricks born from their new kiln.
The Machoke and human workers worked side by side, hauling the fresh, crimson-hued bricks outside to cool in the open air. Soon after, the builders arrived to collect them, using the new material to pave roads and lay the foundations for homes.
Day by day, the territory was transforming.
Wooden huts were giving way to sturdy brick houses. Dirt paths turned into smooth, reddish streets that gleamed faintly beneath the sunlight.
The changes were still only the beginning; of course, it would take months, even with Pokémon aid, to complete the town, but progress was undeniable.
Lucien sat quietly in the lord's hall that evening, eyes half-closed in thought as he reviewed the day's reports.
The orchard was thriving. The syrup jars were nearly ready for brewing.
The miners were producing iron and coal. The farmers tended their fields with the help of Dugtrio, and the builders were shaping a new world from stone and sweat.
Everything was proceeding smoothly.
"The crops will be ready for harvest tomorrow," Lucien murmured. "Once they're gathered, we'll finally have stable food reserves."
He paused, then frowned slightly. "As for livestock… the villagers have started taming wild pheasants for eggs and meat, but pork and beef are still an issue."
No pigs, cows, or sheep had been found anywhere in the surrounding wilderness.
"I'll send someone to the downstream village to purchase young animals," he decided.
He hesitated, his expression softening.
As for eating Pokémon…
He couldn't bring himself to allow it. The thought of consuming the flesh of the very creatures who worked beside them felt deeply wrong, a betrayal of the peaceful coexistence he envisioned.
"Living with Pokémon and eating them at the same time… that would destroy everything we're trying to build."
He resolved, then and there, to pass a law: the consumption of magical beasts' flesh would be forbidden within his territory.
Lucien called for Elif and quietly gave the order. The old steward, ever dutiful, bowed deeply before hurrying off to carry out the decree.
Moments later, Morik, the blacksmith, entered carrying something strange in his hands.
"Your Highness Lucien," he said proudly, "I've finished the task you gave me!"
He held out an object that gleamed faintly in the lamplight.
Lucien took it, and blinked in surprise.
It was a Poké Ball, or at least, something that resembled one.
Except… this was no modern device. It was a roughly forged, conical shell made from split iron, held together by a metal ring and latch.
It looked crude, primitive, even, but undeniably familiar.
Could this thing truly capture Pokémon?
Lucien turned the crude Poké Ball over in his hands, feeling its uneven surface and rough edges. The metal was still warm from the forge.
Curious, he aimed it at Dratini beside him and pressed the latch.
Nothing happened.
"Huh?" Dratini tilted its head, blinking its bright blue eyes. It looked at the strange object, then at Lucien, utterly puzzled.
Morik scratched his beard, equally confused. "Your Highness… is something supposed to happen?"
Lucien frowned slightly, his gaze deep in thought. "Perhaps not automatically…"
Then, an idea struck him. "Dratini," he said gently, "try shrinking yourself. See if you can fit inside."
The little dragon blinked. "Dra?"
Lucien smiled faintly. "It's all right. Just give it a try."
He remembered that the modern Poké Ball was developed by a Pokémon professor named Nishinomori, who had studied the mysterious energy that fueled Fire-type Pokémon.
One day, after an accident in his lab, an exhausted Infernape had weakened and, to Nishinomori's astonishment, had shrunken down and hidden inside the professor's glasses case.
That discovery had revealed something fundamental about Pokémon: when they were weakened or felt vulnerable, their bodies instinctively condensed into a compact, energy-efficient form.
So perhaps… a Poké Ball was, at its core, simply a vessel designed to harness that instinct.
Dratini studied Lucien for a moment, then turned to the strange metal sphere.
"Draaa…"
In the next instant, its slender blue body glowed with a soft red light and vanished.
It had entered the ball.
Morik's jaw dropped. "I… it went inside?!"
Lucien blinked, momentarily stunned himself, before a smile crept across his lips. "As expected."
Moments later, however, the Poké Ball clicked, and Dratini emerged again, coiling beside him with a pitiful whimper.
Lucien knelt and stroked its smooth head. "Uncomfortable, huh?"
Dratini nodded weakly.
Of course. This crude prototype lacked the safety enchantments, cushioning energy, and adaptive interior of a true Poké Ball. For Dratini, it must have felt like being trapped inside cold, empty metal.
Lucien straightened, thoughtful.
He spent the next hour experimenting further. When he finally stopped, several conclusions had become clear:
The ancient Poké Ball lacked an automatic recoil mechanism, the ability to open or close on command.
It had no capture function, it couldn't restrain a resisting Pokémon. A strong one could simply escape.
It acted only as a container, relying entirely on a Pokémon's willingness or instinct to shrink and enter it on its own.
In short, it was not truly a Poké Ball at all. It was merely an imitation, a primitive vessel built upon an incomplete understanding of how Pokémon energy worked.
"It seems… there's still something missing," Lucien murmured.
Beside him, Morik stared at the crude sphere, his face pale with disbelief.
"Your Highness," he stammered, "how… how is that even possible? That creature's body was several times larger than this cone! Shouldn't it have shattered?"
Lucien smiled faintly. "This is something I once read in an old royal text," he said. "Under certain special conditions, the bodies of magical beasts can alter their state, compressing themselves into energy to protect their essence."
He turned the crude ball over in his palm, the firelight glinting across its surface.
"If we can refine this properly," Lucien said, "then one day we'll have a way to let monsters travel safely with us. A tool that allows both humans and monsters to move together, side by side."
Morik could only stare, awe softening his voice. "To think such a thing is even possible…"
...
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