Draco Malfoy had captured the Purrloin—but the Purrloin itself hardly acknowledged him as its "Trainer."That wizard from before might have been despicable, sure, but at least he'd defeated it fair and square in battle.
But this Malfoy… why should it recognize him?Just because of his money power?
The moment the Purrloin regained consciousness, it glared at him with pure hostility, looking ready to claw him to ribbons.Malfoy, unnerved, hastily recalled it into the Poké Ball with a scowl.
"It seems a Pokémon won't acknowledge a Trainer who didn't capture it with their own strength," Barnard commented, his mood improving now that he'd received payment. Even Malfoy's haughty attitude seemed a bit more tolerable.
After the failure he'd just experienced, Barnard wasn't going to overreach again. This time, he'd look for a Pokémon that was actually within his ability to handle.
"Hmph! You think I can't subdue it?" Malfoy snapped.
Perhaps the truth was exactly that—but being told so bruised his pride.
"You'll see," he said coldly, "I'll capture the next Pokémon myself!"
Of course, Malfoy wasn't a fool.He wasn't about to pick another fight with a Purrloin-level opponent. The Malfoy family's philosophy of 'always squeeze the softest fruit' ran deep in his blood, and he understood that principle perfectly.
Meanwhile, the Rapidash and Ponyta carrying Harry and the others halted at the border between the grasslands and the desert plateau. Neither of the fire-type Pokémon was willing to go any farther—they simply stopped, stamping their hooves nervously.
The Rocky Desert region's Pokémon were far more aggressive than the peaceful ones of the plains, and their levels were considerably higher. Worse still, most of them were Rock- or Ground-types—deadly adversaries for Fire-types like Rapidash and Ponyta.
"Well, looks like we'll have to go on foot," Ron sighed, recalling his Ponyta into its Poké Ball. Then, alongside Harry, Hermione, and Wood, he stepped across the invisible boundary.
It was an uncanny experience—
Because time itself seemed different between the two zones.
On the grassland side, it was still morning… but the moment they crossed into the desert, night had already fallen.
A cold breeze swept over them. The instant their boots touched the sandy ground, the four shivered. The air was thin and dry, the wind coarse against their faces.
The sudden shift was jarring—back in Britain, humidity was ever-present. Here, the dry air made their skin feel tight and parched.
Still, it wasn't unbearable. They pressed on, squinting against the swirling sand.
"Lumos," they whispered together.
Four wand tips flared with light, casting a faint glow against the dark expanse.
Wood turned to glance back.
The grasslands were right behind them—so close that they should've been able to see the bright morning sky.Yet now, as if a curtain of darkness had fallen between worlds, not a trace of that light could pierce this side.
"There's… nothing here," Harry murmured, frowning.
The night-shrouded desert was unnerving. Jagged rocks jutted up from the ground like the spines of ancient beasts, their silhouettes distorted by the wind. As the gusts howled through the hollowed stone caverns, they produced eerie, haunting cries.
The three younger students instinctively drew closer together.
"D'you think… maybe a ghost might suddenly appear here?" Ron whispered, his voice trembling.
"You're a wizard," Wood scoffed. "Why would you be afraid of ghosts? Even if something does appear, it'd just be a Ghost-type Pokémon."
"That's exactly the problem," Hermione said sharply. "Ghosts might not hurt us—but Ghost-type Pokémon can drain life energy."
"What?" Harry and Ron gaped at her, horrified.
They hadn't yet learned about the Gastly line from their Pokémon Studies classes, so the concept was entirely new to them.
"You've got to be kidding!" Ron hissed.
"I'm not! It's in the textbook!" Hermione shot back, her voice echoing across the desolate plain.
And that—seemed to attract something in the dark.
"Quiet," Wood whispered urgently. "I think I heard something."
"Extinguish your lights!" Hermione hissed.
"Nox."
The lights winked out instantly.
But now, standing in pitch darkness, they were little more than sitting targets. Harry strained his eyes, recalling the layout of the terrain they'd passed. Finally, he spotted the faint outline of a small cave nearby.
"There—let's hide inside!"
They crouched low and hurried over, slipping into the narrow cave and pressing themselves flat against the cold ground.
"I don't know if it'll work, but… Protego Totalum," Wood muttered, casting a protective charm to conceal their presence.
But even that might not be enough—most Pokémon had an exceptional sense of smell.
So the group held their breath and waited, hearts pounding.
Moments later, a dark shape appeared in the distance.A four-legged silhouette, lean and sinewy, its horns curved backward like twin sickles.
Hermione searched her memory for a match—nothing.
"This one's not in any textbook," she whispered. "It could be dangerous."
The Houndoom stood silently atop a massive, wind-carved stone formation. Its amber eyes gleamed in the darkness, capable of piercing even the blackest night.
Perhaps Wood's charm helped conceal them—or perhaps the wind had long since scattered their scent—but the Houndoom failed to detect them right away.
It prowled restlessly along the rocks, leaping from ledge to ledge, until impatience began to stir.
But what it lacked in patience, it made up for in numbers.
Throwing back its head, it let out a long, resonant howl toward the pale moon—
and from the shadows, more than a dozen Houndour emerged, slipping out from cracks and crevices in the stone to gather beneath their leader.
Ron's face went white.
"There's so many of them!" he mouthed silently, panic written all over his features.
He wasn't foolish enough to underestimate them. The Ponyta that had beaten a mountain troll wasn't much bigger than these Houndour.
A dozen of them—plus one full-grown Houndoom leading the pack?Even Koraidon or Miraidon would have a hard time walking away unscathed!
Here, in this desolate Rocky Desert region, this pack ruled as the undisputed tyrants—ruthless hunters known far and wide for their savagery.
"What do we do now?" Ron mouthed, not daring to speak aloud.
Harry glanced back, reading his lips—
You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?!
(End of Chapter)