Chapter 3: With the body of a trainer, I stand shoulder to shoulder with legendary Pokémon!
In Ragnar's memory—
His father, who had once left home in search of purpose, used to say:
"The true blade of the earth is not the fortress that stands upon it,
but the skill passed down through generations."
Using those words as the name of a kendo dojo felt perfect.
Ragnar crouched beside the Pokémon at his side, bringing himself to eye level with it.
The tall Farfetch'd adjusted the long green leek tucked under its wing, its sharp gaze steady.
"Starting today," Ragnar said seriously, "we're going to restore this dojo's reputation. Are you ready?"
"Kwaa!"
Farfetch'd thumped its chest proudly with a wing.
A true warrior never turns away from challenge.
After gathering enough lumber to repair the dojo's practice yard, Ragnar set up his phone on a tripod. The image quality wasn't ideal, but action cameras were far beyond his budget for now.
Short videos ruled modern platforms, so the opening had to be striking.
A duel.
Not trainer commanding Pokémon—but trainer and Pokémon crossing blades as equals, a performance match demonstrating discipline and trust.
A brief, intense exchange.
Steel and wood. Motion and impact.
A stage where fate collided.
He opened the Rotom-powered streaming app "Baomeng TV", changed his username to:
[Super Dimension Player]
Then typed the video title:
[A Trainer Who Duels Pokémon Head-On?!]
With everything uploaded, evening settled in.
Ragnar stretched and began cooking curry rice, letting the video process on its own.
Paldea Region — Levincia City
Night had only just fallen when livestreams across the region came alive.
"Everyone ready~?"
A bright voice rang out.
"The story tree blooms again! Welcome to Kiki's Strange Tales Live!"
The streamer was Qishu—Levincia's Electric-type Gym Leader, famous across Paldea for her hyperactive broadcasts.
Her Magnemite-shaped hair accessories sparked faint electric arcs.
Her mismatched pigtails swung as she leaned toward the camera with a mischievous grin.
"Good morning, lunchtime, and evening! It's time to hunt today's strangest viral clip!"
Chat flooded instantly.
[Qishu is energetic as always!]
[New viral video just dropped! 'A Trainer Who Duels Pokémon Head-On?!"][I saw it! It's insane!]
Humans fighting Pokémon directly? Impossible… right?
[It's a Farfetch'd! But the moves look real—no edits!]
[Qishu, you've gotta watch it on stream!]
Curiosity sparked.
"Oho? You've caught my interest! Let's check today's mystery video together!"
She pulled it up.
View count: hundreds of thousands within hours. Impressive for a new creator.
She minimized stream delay so viewers could react live.
The video opened on an outdoor training ground.
A young man stood calmly, holding a wooden practice sword.
Opposite him, a tall Farfetch'd raised its leek like a katana.
Its eyes sharpened.
Light gathered along the leek's edge.
"Fury Cutter," Qishu murmured.
A move that grew stronger with each successive strike.
Farfetch'd dashed forward, unleashing rapid slicing arcs.
Clang—Clang—Clang!
Wood met hardened leek.
Leaves scattered from the shock of each impact.
The boy parried every strike precisely—feet shifting, hips turning, timing perfect.
Not brute strength.
Trained swordsmanship.
Chat exploded.
[WHAT?!]
[That's real parrying form!]
[No way this is staged!]
[He's fighting like a dojo master!]
Qishu's eyes gleamed.
"He's incredible! With moves like that, he could probably knock a Wattrel out of the sky!"
But her curiosity deepened.
How could a human read a Pokémon's tempo so perfectly?
Then the Farfetch'd stepped back.
Sunlight gathered overhead, reflecting off the leek's blade.
"…No way," Qishu whispered.
"Solar Blade."
A powerful Grass-type technique—charging sunlight before delivering a decisive strike.
If it landed cleanly, even a fully trained Pokémon could be knocked out instantly.
But the boy didn't interrupt.
He lowered his stance.
Gripped his sword with both hands.
Chat went wild.
[IS HE INSANE?!]
[He's going to take Solar Blade head-on?!]
[That'll send him straight to Nurse Joy!]
The leek blazed gold.
Farfetch'd swung.
A crescent of light cleaved forward—
And at last…
The boy moved.