"But this one still doesn't seem quite complete…" Lucien mused, turning the half-finished Poké Ball in his hand. "The Pokémon inside wouldn't be comfortable staying in it for long."
"What if we lined the inside with something soft?" Morik suggested suddenly. "Like cotton?"
"Cotton?" Lucien blinked, a little surprised. Still, they didn't have any better ideas for now. After a brief pause, he nodded. "That's worth trying. Go ahead and experiment, Morik, I'll leave this to you."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Morik carefully accepted the incomplete Poké Ball and left the room, clearly eager to improve it.
Once he was gone, Lucien leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes in concentration as he tried to recall everything he knew about Poké Ball construction.
Modern Poké Balls… the ancient designs from the Hisui region… the Apricorn Balls crafted by early artisans…
There was once a craftsman in the Johto region known as Steel, a man who could turn apricorn fruit into Poké Balls through painstaking manual work.
But that method was notoriously complex. Crafting a single Poké Ball could take him an entire day, sometimes more if it was a special variant.
Lucien remembered something Steel had once written in his journals:
"Within every Poké Ball is a fine, invisible web. This web binds the Pokémon once it is drawn inside. If the creature still has strength, it can tear the web apart and escape.
Only when it grows weak will the web hold firm, and the capture will succeed."
That was why most modern trainers weakened Pokémon before attempting to catch them, not to harm them, but to reduce their energy until the web could form a stable binding.
But what exactly was this web made of?
Was it the silk spun by Ariados and Joltik, woven into an energetic lattice?
Or perhaps some other mysterious material capable of resonating with a Pokémon's aura?
Neither the anime nor any scholarly texts offered a clear explanation.
Lucien thought for a while, then smiled faintly to himself. "Well… perhaps we can test it one day."
Coincidentally, Ariados lived in the Unova region. Its silk was famous for its toughness, in later generations, fishermen would use it to weave nets, while tailors made soft scarves that could even repel rain.
Unfortunately, no Ariados had been found near their territory yet. That idea would have to wait for another time.
April 7th, Year 149 of the Royal Calendar
By morning, the crops in the fields had fully ripened.
Standing at the edge of the farmland, Lucien looked out upon a vast golden sea of wheat. The gentle breeze swept through the stalks, creating shimmering ripples that stretched toward the horizon.
At this moment, nearly everyone in the territory, both human and Pokémon, had gathered there. Joy brightened every face.
"Your Highness Lucien, it's a bumper harvest!" a farmer exclaimed, holding up a handful of heavy, golden ears of wheat.
Lucien accepted them with a smile. "You've all worked hard these past months," he said warmly.
The farmers grinned. "It's our duty, sire!"
Nearby, the three Snover bounced forward excitedly.
"Snorrr~!"
Lucien chuckled. "Yes, yes, you three deserve praise too." He patted their snow-capped heads gently.
Of course, credit also went to Snivy and Dugtrio.
Snivy stood off to the side, arms folded with its usual air of pride. Lucien glanced at it and said softly, "Thank you for your hard work, Snivy."
"Snivy," it huffed, pretending indifference, but the small flick of its tail betrayed its happiness.
Lucien smiled but didn't comment. Instead, he raised his voice to address the others.
"All right, everyone, let's begin the harvest!"
Sickles glinted in the sunlight as humans and Pokémon alike moved through the fields.
In addition to wheat, the ripened crops included rye, radishes, and potatoes.
The wheat and rye would be milled into flour for bread. The radishes would serve as fresh vegetables. And the potatoes, high-yield and easy to store, would ensure that no one in the territory would go hungry again.
As Lucien watched the lively scene before him, a sense of relief and pride welled up in his chest.
This… this was the fruit of their labor. The first true harvest of his fledgling realm.
He exhaled softly, a faint smile curving his lips.
Lucien watched the busy figures moving through the golden fields and thought to himself,
"One portion of the harvest will be milled into flour for food, and another will be kept for seed…"
This time, Lucien planned to distribute some of the harvested seeds among his people, along with small plots of land, so that they could begin cultivating on their own.
After seeing firsthand how Pokémon could aid in farming, the people would no doubt try to seek out wild Pokémon to help them as well.
Before long, many might even wish to raise Pokémon of their own.
Snover, Combee, Petili, Mareep…
With that, once traveling merchants began visiting, these common folk could trade goods in return, which would, in turn, attract more merchants to the growing settlement.
Over time, this territory would surely flourish into a thriving domain.
As for taxes… Lucien decided he would discuss the matter later with Elif.
Besides, this land would soon need a proper system of laws and governance to maintain order, though such reforms could only begin once the town was fully built.
By evening, the harvested crops had been gathered into great heaps across the territory.
To celebrate the bountiful harvest, the villagers had changed into their best clothes, garments they'd once been too reluctant to wear, and now gathered at the heart of the settlement, singing and dancing under the warm glow of lanterns.
A host of Pokémon living in the territory also joined the festivities.
Snover, Shuckle, Minccino, the two Machoke, Zorua, Haxorus, and Simsear,ll mingled happily among the laughing crowd.
Lucien stood a little apart, watching the scene beside Dratini and Snivy, a faint, contented smile on his face.
"Your Highness Lucien, aren't you going to join them?" Elif asked softly.
Lucien shook his head with a smile. "If I join, everyone will get self-conscious. Let them enjoy themselves freely tonight."
Elif followed his gaze toward the joyous crowd.
If they were still in the royal capital, he thought, there would already be poets composing verses to praise the young prince's name.
As Lucien's eyes drifted toward the piles of grain, a sudden thought struck him.
"Elif, remind Geralt to post guards at the granaries tonight," he said, his tone serious.
If a wild Snorlax appeared in the area… that would be disastrous.
Even one small Snorlax could devour their entire stockpile overnight.
Geralt nodded solemnly; he understood better than anyone how vital this food was to the territory's survival.
"I'll take charge of the watch myself," he said. "I'll bring Haxorus with me."
"By the way, Geralt," Lucien said suddenly, as if remembering something.
"Yes, Your Highness?" Geralt turned toward him, puzzled.
Lucien handed him a piece of parchment. "This contains everything I've learned about Haxorus. It may be of some use to you."
Geralt blinked in surprise, then leaned closer to the firelight to read.
It was written:
Haxorus, Dragon-type.
Special Moves: Dragon Claw, Slash, Crunch, Dragon Dance, Earthquake, Dragon Pulse, Swords Dance, Outrage, and Draco Meteor.
"Your Highness… these are…?" Geralt looked up, eyes wide.
Lucien said quietly, "From what I've observed, monsters are capable of growth. As their chosen partners, it's our duty to help them grow stronger, to become their best selves."
Understanding dawned instantly in Geralt's expression.
If Haxorus grew stronger… then the next time they fought side by side, they could face any foe, and triumph together.