My life evolved into days of straight training. Trainers would show up to battle us occasionally, but everything else was dedicated to getting my Pokémon into tip-top shape.
Lucian pulled through and sent me a raw analysis of Cynthia's team members. He took a more analytical approach than Flint, boiling down their capabilities into rankings that made her power level easier to digest. Soon, after him, both Aaron and Bertha chipped in, too, sending me their own perspectives of the skill and power of Cynthia's team.
It helped, but I was still intimidated.
Through that information, I had to go and figure out what Pokémon would participate simply because I had to be efficient in practice. It wouldn't make sense to dedicate hours training one Pokémon when they weren't going to compete in the battle.
So, through many hours of discussion and planning, my team and I came to a selection of six Pokémon that would hopefully win us the match. Considering Cynthia would outdo us in raw power no matter what, our selections were more based on skill and utility than anything else.
First off, Ninetales joined the team, as she would hopefully be able to use her illusions and snow to become incredibly difficult to pin down. Not only that, but her icy powers meant she could slow down foes and, hopefully, even freeze them.
The second and third members were the pair of Carbink and Mawile, as both of them could benefit from a new TM move, Sandstorm. Sandstorm was a controversial choice against Cynthia as half of her likely Pokémon—Lucario, Gastrodon, and Garchomp—could all ignore or benefit from its effects. However, the defensive boost it provided Carbink as well as Mawile’s relative immunity to its passive damage would make it worth it, especially against the likes of Roserade, Milotic, and Spiritomb.
For fourth and fifth, we had another pair of Pokémon chosen for a weather condition: Whimsicott gained several benefits from being in the sun, and the sun would enhance Gardevoir’s newly learned Mystical Fire, too. Both of them excelled at using utility moves, though, in different ways, and I trusted them to be difficult Pokémon to deal with, especially after all of Lucian’s training.
(As a note, we went back and forth between Gardevoir and Florges a lot for this battle. Florges was a strong choice considering she had access to Wish, which would have been incredible to keep the team healed when against Cynthia, who battled without any restrictions on switching. However, the culture of Pokémon battles were against us: people wanted to see battles that contained actual fights, not battles that contained rapid-fire maneuvering to maintain an advantage or a team’s relative health.
It was unfortunate, but there was a reason most battles were fought with a limit on switches. People still liked to see trainers being careful in their selections, but it was more interesting with that limitation. Thankfully, Florges saved us from the argument by being adamant it was time for Gardevoir’s turn in the light. After everything Gardevoir had been doing to get stronger, she gave him her personal vote of confidence, knowing he’d make a difference in the fight.)
Finally, as our anchor and final member of the team, we had one last Pokémon who was the linchpin of our strategy. Out of everyone, she had the most important role, and that role was simply sitting in the back like a threat. After all, knowing Azumarill would absolutely want to compete, I sent Cynthia a message asking if she’d be willing to hold back Garchomp for a one-on-one fight with Azumarill once all Pokémon had competed.
She accepted, and that was Cynthia’s biggest threat put on hold, just like that. The only problem was that Azumarill now needed to fight Garchomp completely on her own. At least, the thought of the challenge made her grin.
(Eevee had nightmares that night.)
A week after Lucian stopped by, I left the Battle Zone to return to Lily of the Valley Island. There, I helped with forms regarding last-minute set up, then Gardevoir brought us to the place the battle would actually be set: Hearthome City.
This year, the Grand Festival had taken place here, so the arena was already mostly prepared. In fact, both Wally and Zoey had competed in it, though neither of them won. Wally ended up getting eliminated in the first round, which was crushing for him, and Zoey made it all the way up to the finals, where she earned second place against May, of all people. I’d have liked to meet up with both of them just to chat in person after everything that had gone on in our lives, but they’d moved on already. To my understanding, Wally was training for the League in Iron Island, and Zoey was doing the same in Snowpoint.
That left me alone with my team to practice and wait for our battle against Cynthia to begin.
----------------------------------------
The days leading up to the battle were a flurry of hastily squeezed-in practice and scheduled interviews with the media. One couldn’t just battle the Champion in an official setting and remain unquestioned, after all. It was especially true if one was to battle a Champion as well regarded as Cynthia.
I had to tell frequent mistruths and deflections throughout the televised and printed interviews. The interviewers would ask questions like “Are you confident you can beat Cynthia?” and “Do you think you can win?”, and I had to push through that with a smile on my face, lying and saying yes.
Cynthia had not lost a single battle outside of a surprise upset against Galar’s Champion, Leon, in the previous World Coronation Series. Even then, she was still regarded as one of the strongest, if not, the strongest, especially since she’d had time to train up her team even further since then.
As for me, I’d been training my team for a handful of years at this point, but I still felt we didn’t hold a candle to her. Of course, that was an underestimation of our strength, as we didn’t win the Sinnoh Conference and beat Hala for nothing, but the difference in power between where we stood and where the Champion stood was vast.
Alongside me, Cynthia had her own set of interviews to deal with, though they were significantly less frequent. Most of the conversations were just meaningless platitudes and discussions of unrelated topics, but I did notice one small, repeated detail: whenever the interviewers mentioned me, rather than saying anything complimentary, there tended to be an implication that I’d be just another random challenger that’d be an easy sweep.
Cynthia took those implications and ripped them apart, live for the world to see.
“Alex isn’t just a random challenger,” she would say. “By my estimates, Alex has to be one of the premier Fairy Type specialists in the world. Not only has Alex and their team won last year’s Lily of the Valley Conference, but they went on to be immediately recruited as one of the founding members of the League’s new Wandering Elite. They’ve competed in Contests, been sponsored by Kalos’s own Professor Sycamore, demonstrated just how powerful Mega Evolution is to the region at large, beaten every single Sinnoh Gym Leaders’ core team—every single one!—and I’ve heard rumors that they’ve been instrumental in stopping several rather villainous acts.” She would clear her throat here. “My regard to the people of Mossdeep who might be watching, by the way.”
The conversation would go on much more casually from there, and the implications that I would be nothing more than an easy challenge would practically vanish from the mouths of anyone who she spoke to. The fact that she needed to have that conversation did speak a lot of how I did little to advertise myself to the public, but I was already seeing people doing double takes when I passed them by in the street. Two years ago, I would have been concerned that spreading this information would have made me a target in the wrong kinds of peoples’ eyes. Now?
I trusted my team, and I knew what we were capable of, together. In a way, Cynthia’s own remarks about our capabilities actually helped improve my confidence before our match.
Days passed, and, soon, it was time. All my friends were informed about this battle, and they were tuning in from across the world. Marty, Old Man Harvey, Laura, Steven, Professor Sycamore, Hope and Lillie, and so many more were either watching live or planned to catch the match on replay. I was nervous—incredibly so—but there was a reason my team and I were able to stand here.
We had put in blood, sweat, and tears to reach this stage, and we wouldn’t let everyone rooting for us down.
The day of—the moment of—the battle, I walked into Hearthome’s central arena to the deafening sounds of a feverish audience. The size of the place was comparable to the arena of a Conference, though it wasn’t nearly as packed. That wasn’t due to a lack of excitement, though. The match had only been announced a week and a half ago, and most people couldn’t make plans on such short notice. Also, for only a single battle, even against a Champion, people were less motivated to travel, so our in-person watchers here mostly consisted of Hearthome locals.
My body felt light as I ascended the steps up to a trainer’s platform that overlooked the field. It was a plain, painted dirt battlefield where my team and I had battled on countless times. I only had a few seconds to look it over, however, as I suddenly felt as if I had gone deaf.
Though it was the middle of the day, the roof of the arena was covered, and the lights were dimmed just enough to allow for spotlights to work. They shined over the entrance opposite to the one I had exited, and a woman in a deep black coat strode out with flagrant confidence. The sheer level of noise the audience made in response to Cynthia’s arrival was ridiculous, and it was clear who was favored for this fight.
No matter. We’ll prove them wrong.
The set of announcers whose voices echoed out over the arena didn’t even bother to hype up Cynthia as she took up her spot across from me. The noise from the audience made it pointless, and they only needed to say two words once the cheers had died down.
“Our Champion.”
Of course, that served to make the cheers crop back up for a bit longer.
“Alex,” Cynthia said once the room was quiet once more, casually adjusting the sleeves of her coat as she did.
“Champion,” I replied right after, probably a bit too fast and belying my nerves. The repeated mention of her title caused the audience to cheer once again, of course.
A few moments passed to give both of us time to take one another in, and then a referee moved out to stand at the side of the field. The man was dressed in a bright orange turtleneck, and he glanced between the two of us with a firm, set expression. Once that show was out of the way, he then turned to face ahead, where a camera drone had lowered itself from up high to get a close-up of his face.
“The rules of this match are special, as per the Champion’s wishes.” His deep voice almost seemed to reverberate across the field. “There are no limits on switching or Mega Evolution, but each side will still use the classic six Pokémon each. For the trainers in the audience watching this match, be aware that Mega Evolution is limited to one per match in all other cases. Alex has earned this permission due to their expertise, and the presence of the Champion herself will ensure that such power will be matched.”
Isn’t that just a statement? Before the battle even started, he just announced to the world that any member of Cynthia’s team can easily match a Mega Pokémon from mine.
The referee’s words hung in the air as he took a step back, away from the field. The outline of a psychic box then sprung up around the field, courtesy of Lucian, and the man cleared his throat to speak one last time before the battle would begin.
“There is no time limit for this match, though it may be put on pause in an emergency. I will wave my flags in accordance with League standards to signal penalties, faints, and other necessary delays in the match. For now, unless you have any pending questions, send out your Pokémon and prepare for the match to begin.”
Cynthia and I said nothing, grabbing Pokéballs to toss over the field. As I clutched a Heavy Ball, I noticed that my opponent hadn’t actually grabbed a ball. As my lead for this match, Mawile, coalesced on the field, Cynthia threw out a cracked stone that bounced over the floor in a clatter.
The audience quieted down ever so slightly at its presence, and I couldn’t help but to frown. The briefest of seconds passed, and a cold wind blew; my body shivered. A weight settled onto my shoulders like a pair of long, dead hands placed on me from behind.
Mawile didn’t look so good, either. On the field, I could see the two halves of her large mouth press together in a grimace, though the stone itself did not move.
It took me a moment to realize it, but I found myself shaking. The Spiritomb, withdrawn into a mundane-looking form, emanated out a Pressure so intense that I could feel it from here, through the protective shields. Within its domain, I was nothing. I was only a hapless victim ready to be hunted.
"Enough, Spiritomb," Cynthia ordered, chastising her Pokémon.
The ghost laughed. It was a shrill, high-pitched warbling that screeched out of the stone. Immediately upon her commands, the cold chill around me faded away. I could swear I felt something brush over my neck, but I did my best to pay it no mind. Unfortunately, Mawile stiffened even more—it seemed that with Pressure now more concentrated, the effects of Spiritomb’s ability became even greater.
This is exactly why I don't like Ghost Types.
While the crowd mumbled, somewhat confused, Cynthia took one look at my pale face, and her own expression fell. Where there was once an amused smile, there was now an unhappy frown. She shook her head while glaring at her Pokémon.
"My apologies, Alex. To make up for Spiritomb's... trick," she said with a surprising amount of vitriol, "I'll let you and Mawile make the first moves."
I nodded, though I wasn't too thankful about that. I very much disliked how the stone on the field had gone after me at all.
As for the impending battle itself, the referee counted down, the announcer announced, and the audience continued to... audience. I lightly slapped my cheeks to ensure I was focused, and I thanked the foresight I had to have drunk an energy drink right before my match.
I needed every ounce of focus for this match. Every bit of my energy was likely to be consumed here tonight. Months of preparing for the Elite Four had been turned into two weeks of preparing for this match. There was no use panicking now. To make this a decent show, my Pokémon and I would give it our all.
Remember everyone's advice, Alex. Make the first knock-out count.
A moment's pause.
The referee blew the whistle.
"Mawile, Taunt and Sandstorm!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.
The sounds coming from the crowds around us were deaf to my ears as I wholly focused on the start of the match.
Right away, Mawile spun, heaving her jaws forward and causing them to twist through the air. Sand poured out from between their teeth, and a small twister formed around her in the air.
Then, she stopped, and she smashed her jaws into the ground. The impact sent sand bursting out in all directions, and heavy winds kicked up from the reactive pulse.
A Sandstorm overtook the field, a weather condition to which Mawile was immune. As for the Spiritomb, while its core stone seemed barely affected, I knew the coarse grains would dig into any shadows it sent our way.
Mawile then quickly moved into my other command, continuing by bracing herself and whispering under her breath. She sent insult after insult towards Spiritomb, riling it up and subjecting it to a Taunt.
In the back, Cynthia’s frown deepened ever so slightly. She didn’t give a command right away, but that hardly mattered given that Spiritomb started to move.
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"A mistake to use Taunt," she commented.
Deep within the grating sands now blowing over the field, the stone on the ground shook, and a bit of liquid shadow dripped out of its central crack. After a moment, shadows burst out of it like water from a broken pipe, and a face formed within the darkened mist in the wind.
Spiritomb was not natural. No, not in the same way an Ultra Beast was not natural, but in the way that it was terrifyingly metaphysical. Spiraling wisps emanated darkness rather than light, and a set of crescent eyes and a grinning mouth formed out of gaps in its shade. The mass of ectoplasmic stuff rushed forward, out of its rocky prison, and an ethereal force lifted up its stone and dragged it through the air after it.
Mawile didn’t react. She wasn’t able to. She might as well be frozen with how hard Spiritomb’s Pressure made movement.
"Stone Edge!" I screamed. Honestly, I was already terrified. Mawile didn’t even get a chance to use that attack before she was covered by darkness. I could only see her as a silhouette within Spiritomb’s churning mass, and its ever-grinning expression almost seemed to look me in the eye.
But, Mawile was a fighter. I could see herself straining and clenching her teeth together in an attempt to move. As if being weighed down by an incredible gravity, she was just barely able to flick her jaws forward, sending out several dark chunks that had to be the stones from her Stone Edge.
The attack passed right through the darkness and sailed out of holes on the other side. Those glowing wisps inside Spiritomb seemed to move to linger in the path her attack had just gone through, though they didn’t do anything else. It was mocking her. It was mocking her for being weak. The Ghost Type was a cruel foe, and what made it worse was that I knew its Pressure was making this fight all the more difficult for her.
However, while she failed to damage Spiritomb, her foe wasn’t directly attacking, either. It seemed to be controlling the darkness just to play with its prey. I eyed the stones now lingering on the ground around it, and I figured that, with everything else, that was enough from Mawile for now.
"Return, Mawile," I called out.
"Hm. Already?” Cynthia said. “Then I will return Spiritomb, too.”
Spiritomb pulled back, and Mawile was exposed, released from its shadowy grasp. She sent me a thankful look now that she didn't need to deal with that, and she disappeared back into the depths of her Heavy Ball a moment later. As for Spiritomb, Cynthia didn't use a Pokéball yet again, and all the glowing motes withdrew into their stone before it carried itself over the field to slip back into her coat's front pocket.
"Carbink," I said to name my next team member.
"Togekiss,” Cynthia easily replied.
At the sight of her Fairy Type, I was already grimacing. Seeing that flying Pokémon take to the air had me know our planned strategy wouldn't work.
It’s too agile. Toxic won't be able to land a hit, and her Togekiss likely has a move to cure itself if it does. Sometimes, knowledge is a curse. If I didn't know Togekiss so well from my own research, I would probably be significantly less afraid.
Thankfully, one trap did work, since Cynthia's Togekiss was immediately subjected to a field effect upon being sent out. Mawile's Stone Edge might have failed to incur damage against Spiritomb, but the move had still succeeded as a delivery mechanism for something else.
All around where the stones from Stone Edge had landed, carefully disguised Stealth Rocks now laid in wait. The two similar Rock Type moves, had been used in unison, partially inspired by how Flint had combined Fire Punch and Close Combat.
The sneaky stones launched themselves into the air as if drawn via a magnetic force. Togekiss tried to flee, looping and twirling to avoid some of the attack, but pieces of the Stealth Rock still jabbed into it, doing a decent chunk of the expected damage.
"Interesting," Cynthia said. "Defog."
A classic of Sinnoh’s, the move caused winds to burst out from between Togekiss’s thin feathers. Harsh winds met harsh winds, blowing back and dissipating the Sandstorm, and the Stealth Rock was scattered and shattered from its effects as well.
"Smack Down!" I yelled.
I hoped to get in a surprise attack while Togekiss was busy blowing everything away.
Carbink hastily conjured a stone that shot out like a rocket, but it ended up failing to land. Togekiss ended its Defog quickly, and a quick Reflect blocked the attack before fading away.
I sighed.
"Carbink, return."
Carbink let out a sad "Bink" in reply.
My Pokémon disappeared in what was my second switch of the match, though I was relatively unhappy about that. I needed at least a neutral matchup to start off this match, as I was seeking out a decent first faint. Togekiss would be too difficult to face now, and Spiritomb could be handled by a less physical-oriented Pokémon later. I disliked how quickly I was going through these match-ups, and Cynthia seemed to notice something about it, too.
"Really, Alex?" she asked, returning her Togekiss as well. "This isn't a race. There's no need to return your Pokémon so much."
Murmurs in the audience; I didn’t send out my next Pokémon right away. I needed to make a good choice next as we were limited with how long we could abuse the switching rules. Considering preventing this entire circumstance was a big chunk of the reason Florges didn’t tag along, we had to settle on a proper match soon. I took this moment to stall and wrack my mind for a choice. As for Cynthia, she was more than happy to wait, willing to see what I sent out first as was her right as the trainer who recalled their Pokémon last.
"Wandering Elite Alex, you must send out your next Pokémon or be disqualified,” the referee called out as the timer ran down.
"I know, I know," I replied. "Sorry about the rough start. Cynthia isn't the Champion for nothing."
A few people in the audience laughed in agreement, my forced nonchalance speaking the truth to them, somewhat. Gritting my teeth, I settled on what I felt was my best option, and a Nest Ball was hastily flung forward.
"Gardevoir," I said.
"Lucario,” Cynthia replied.
I blinked at her selection of a Fighting Type against a Psychic Type.
Really, now?
At least Gardevoir would have an advantage.
At first, I considered this good news, as I knew Lucario was vulnerable to the Psychic Type. But, as my mind went over the possibilities, I quickly realized that it was not.
Type Advantage wasn't everything. Sometimes, fighting style was important, too. Gardevoir was great at running away and attacking from range, but, against a peak melee combatant like Cynthia's Lucario, he would find himself quickly run down.
"Psychic Terrain!" I ordered the moment the battle started back up.
Tutored by Lucian, Gardevoir used the move, and the field pulsed with that same, wavering, reality-warping mess. At the same time, Lucario crouched down in preparation for an Extreme Speed, and my heart skipped a beat out of relief when I saw Lucario stumble.
"Didn't expect that," Cynthia commented, and I gained a slight grin. However, once more, what hope I had was crushed, as Cynthia immediately followed up that phrase by shouting for her “Anti-Lucian strategy!”
Turns out, this strategy involved Lucario closing its eyes, choosing to fight via instinct and innate Aura-sense rather than vision, which could be tricked. It stayed still for just a moment to push its paws together and draw them back out. Between them, a long, glowing bone staff formed in their wake.
Lucario dashed forward, using its high, innate speed rather than any boosting attack. Gardevoir rapidly used Teleport to get away, but Lucario snapped its head around to almost seem to predict where he appeared each time.
"Bone Rush," Cynthia commanded.
Gardevoir barely had time to put up a screen.
Lucario was on him in an instant, and Gardevoir stumbled back from the weight of the bone’s impacts. Each swing caused his Reflect to break even without Brick Break, and Gardevoir had to focus entirely just to maintain this baseline defense.
Step by step, swing by swing, Lucario pushed forward, forcing Gardevoir back. A blue jackal stared forward with an expressionless visage. Meanwhile, Gardevoir’s face was already covered in sweat.
He was quickly pushed towards the edge of the field, and it was clear that once he reached that protective barrier, Lucario would have him cornered. This couldn’t keep going; Lucario would win. We needed to act rather than react if we wanted to get a handle on bypassing Lucario’s moves.
"Expanding Force!" I yelled.
Cynthia smirked.
She simply snapped her fingers as Lucario jumped back with Detect, and then it lunged forward.
The Pokémon's movement was perfect. It knew the exact range it needed to leap to avoid the attack. The second it landed on the ground, the Expanding Force ended, and then Lucario was right back in the area it was just forced out of.
Gardevoir didn't have time to avoid the smash as the Bone Rush landed right on the side of his head. He was sent reeling, Lucario following, and a hasty Teleport only barely managed to let him escape.
"Did you manage any Psychics between the screens?" I called out to Gardevoir as he reappeared a few feet in front of me.
Frowning, he shook his head. A splash of Life Dew helped heal his wound.
Across from him, Lucario shifted in its stance to stand at its full height of four feet, drawing its bone staff up behind it in one hand and opening its red eyes. Rather than dash, it walked forward, slowly approaching Gardevoir like an inevitable fate he could not avoid.
"We need to bring in an ally," I said, though I wasn't happy about this decision.
Gardevoir nodded once, understanding the meaning behind my words.
Immediately, Gardevoir conjured a Mystical Fire, creating motes of flame that circled around him in the pattern he so liked. He sent them forward at Lucario, who casually batted them away with its bone staff.
However, Gardevoir didn't let up, and his attack continued and continued. Mote after mote was formed and launched, and what started as casual defense evolved into a full-fledged rush as Lucario was forced to spin its staff and run forward.
"Aura Sphere," Cynthia commanded, changing the status of the fight.
Between the literal waves of flame, Lucario pulled back one hand, and then it punched that hand forward to push forward a ball of pulsating blue light.
I could feel the spiritual pressure emanating from the move. Unlike Spiritomb, the pressure from Aura Sphere didn't send shivers down my spine. Instead, it delivered a message, sharing with me the knowledge of just how intent Lucario was on winning.
"Teleport!" I screamed.
Gardevoir flashed away.
The Aura Sphere, an attack that should have tracked him through his Teleport, suddenly stopped in the air. It hovered in place for a brief moment before flicking out, disappearing.
Lucario looked genuinely bewildered as it stopped and pushed away the remnants of the Mystical Fire with a sweep of its staff. Most of the motes had been extinguished, but some were still burning away on the ground. What was important about this attack wasn't that it could have hit, but, instead, what mattered was that Lucario now suffered from a greatly raised internal temperature. As I knew from Mawile and as part of my research into anti-Steel Type measures, Steel Types had great difficulties cooling down.
Lucario would passively drain its stamina in ever increasing amounts if it continued battling from here.
"Carbink," I said, sending them back out.
On the field, Lucario blinked in surprise.
Above, the announcer explained what happened to the audience—Teleport primarily moved a Pokémon around, but it could return its user to a Pokéball just as well. When the flames blocked Gardevoir from Lucario’s line of sight, he had returned himself to his Pokéball, and, thus, Lucario’s Aura Sphere had failed.
We resumed.
"Toxic!" I yelled.
Lucario ran forward, paying the status-inflicting move no mind. As a Steel Type, it was immune, but just like the Mystical Fire, the obvious effect wasn't the point.
The cloud of cinnabar dust obscured Carbink for the briefest of seconds, and when Lucario burst through, red trailing behind it, the Pokémon wasn't ready for Carbink's flash. Fairy Type energy burst out and seared the Lucario, temporarily blinding it and somehow causing the Champion's Pokémon to miss an attack.
That didn’t happen often.
The sheer force of Bone Rush’s impact caused a foot-wide crater to form and dirt to be flung into the air. Next to it, Carbink used this chance—likely their only chance—to brace themself with Iron Defense.
"Anti-Byron Strats," Cynthia called out.
Does she really have a strategy to counter every member of the League?
Unfortunately, I couldn’t dwell on that thought for long because Lucario soon pressed forward. It darted around Carbink with Feint, ignoring all of their attempts at defense, and it struck forward with a palm right into Carbink’s back.
Thanks to Carbink's incredible innate defenses and the current hardening from Iron Defense, the Force Palm barely affected them, and the follow-up attack was somewhat the same. After, Lucario dropped its staff, which shattered into dissolving fragments when it hit the ground, and the Champion-tier Pokémon pushed its other paw forward in yet another quick-paced Force Palm.
I clenched my jaw when I saw Carbink stiffen, the rampant energies inside them now causing them to be paralyzed. However, for the attack I wanted them to use, they didn't need to move. Psychic Terrain was rapidly fading, but the latent energies were still ready to be gathered up and released in a blast.
"Terrain Pulse!"
The audience audibly gasped. Lucario was in the perfect position to be struck by Carbink’s new move. The best part about this was that it hadn’t been demonstrated before—no one but Lucian and I knew that Carbink had learned this move.
Terrain Pulse was pretty self explanatory, as it was a pulsing attack that changed its Type based on the current Terrain. It wasn’t very strong as a baseline, but it took in the energies of any active terrain to double its power, and it even gained the Type-based power boost from the terrain, too.
This Terrain Pulse became a powerful, Psychic Type blast that used the last few dredges of Psychic Terrain before it disappeared. The move caused Carbink's crystals to glow a deep blue before the energy exploded out and struck Lucario right in its chest. It didn't expect the attack, and the Lucario flew back from the impact, sailing across the field.
It bounced, but then it stabilized itself in the air. Grooves formed in the ground from where Lucario’s feet tried to resist the momentum. The power of the Terrain Pulse, enhanced further thanks to Carbink striking at the perfect time, meant Lucario was panting and grasping at an invisible bruise on its chest.
Carbink turned around the air to lock eyes with their foe. Lucario glared at them, almost angry, as the two Pokémon stood off.
"Carbink," Carbink said. Lucario blinked its eyes. "Carbink, bink. Carbink car car, Carbink. Bink."
They nodded to punctuate their statement.
Lucario tilted its head to the side before replying with a nod, then it stood to reach its full height. Cynthia seemed ready to return her Pokémon, but Lucario held out a paw, and she placed the ball back into her pocket.
I almost froze.
Wait a second. Did Carbink just convince Lucario to stay out?
I turned to Carbink, amazed by their impromptu strategy, and when they saw me staring, they sent a wink my way.
If Cynthia wasn’t going to switch, we actually had the chance to wear her Pokémon down.
"Let's win this. Get the first faint, Carbink!" I yelled.
"Lucario, I trust you. The rest of this match is in your hands," Cynthia replied.
The two Pokémon on the field bowed slightly in recognition to their trainers, and they turned to face their opponent on the field. A Sandstorm started back up, courtesy of Carbink, which would help Carbink resist any special, ranged moves, but it more importantly framed the two fighting Pokémon in the dim-light of the sandy winds.
Lucario disappeared without even signaling it was using Extreme Speed.
Without Psychic Terrain, the Champion’s Pokémon’s movements carried no restrictions to them. Lucario reappeared off to the side, between where it had just been and Carbink, and its bone staff reformed in its hands. Another Extreme Speed, and it reappeared in front of Carbink. A swing forward slammed into Carbink like a golf club, and they went flying into the air.
Carbink hurtled towards the upper limits of the field, and Lucario used Extreme Speed yet again to jump right after them. However, Lucario’s aim wasn’t Carbink, but the barrier of the field itself, rushing past Carbink to grab onto the psychic screen itself, staying aloft in the air.
Then, Lucario used its free hand to raise its bone staff, intent on smashing Carbink into the ground. The arc Carbink was flying in meant Lucario was in the perfect place to hit them, but for this exchange, we were prepared.
"Body Press!"
Rather than the momentum of the attack enhancing Lucario’s swing, the momentum benefitted us. Body Press used Carbink’s innate defenses—the sturdiness of their own body—in a crushing, full form slam. With the speed at which they were traveling being so high, the attack practically crushed the conjured bone that was brought up in a hasty defense.
Carbink was like a meteor, shattering the weapon they hit. The small, floating rock of a Pokémon crashed into Lucario’s arm and caused the winds of Sandstorm to be pushed back by the impact.
"Yes!" I cheered. Since Lucario was half Steel Type, this Fighting Type attack was super effective.
Lucario, a Champion’s Pokémon, visibly winced, clenching its teeth, and I saw the arm that had been struck go slack.
"Bullet Punch," Cynthia said.
Lucario looked slightly betrayed that Cynthia was giving it commands once more, but in the face of being matched against such a powerful opponent, it willingly complied. Its one free arm, now its one good arm, released the barrier, and it jabbed down to strike Carbink right in the chest in a four-times super effective attack.
"Reflect!" I yelled.
It didn't matter.
Since Lucario released the barrier, both of them were now falling towards the floor.
Fist still impacting Carbink's chest, Lucario let out a roar. It seemed intent on using momentum to enhance an attack once more, this time using gravity to take out Carbink on impact.
"Dazzling Gleam!"
And that was all Carbink managed to do.
When they reached the floor, Carbink burst like a balloon, releasing all their remaining Fairy Type energy before they fainted. The area around the pair of Pokémon was covered in a brilliant shine that became half-obscured by dirt being launched up into the air.
After a moment of being unable to see, the gleam faded, and the dirt fell back to the ground. A pit had formed where they landed, and Lucario heaved itself back, wounded. Carbink didn’t move.
Honestly, it looked like Lucario had come out from a war. It was bent over from pain in its chest, its arm was loose at its side, and every little movement it went through seemed to cause it to wince and pant. Carbink might have fainted, but they had done good work. Not only that, Cynthia made no moves to return her Pokémon despite Lucario looking to be on the verge of passing out.
"I'm proud of you," I whispered to Carbink as I returned them to their ball.
The audience cheered at the sight of the first faint going to their favored Champion, and Lucario looked to me and sent Carbink’s Pokéball a respectful nod.
"Ninetales," I said. “For Carbink.”
After appearing on the field, my starter growled at Lucario, intent on getting revenge. She might not have been a good matchup for this, but if we could get a quick faint, we’d be in a good position for whatever Cynthia sent out next.
Ninetales would finish off what Gardevoir and Carbink had started, and we would use that momentum to carry us through the match.
"Continue," the referee called out.
"Aura Sphere."
"Aurora Veil!"
Snow Warning didn't overwhelm the faint bit of remaining Sandstorm, but what did end up happening was the two became mixed. Sand merged with snow as the field was filled with particles clogging the air, mostly obscuring the field and causing the Pokémon to almost appear to be just silhouettes. Flashes from moves illuminated them briefly, the deep blue of the Aura Sphere reflecting off of the weather effect, and the Aurora Veil causing a rainbow flash that the attack failed to penetrate.
Lucario wasn’t going to give up that easily, however, as it used Extreme Speed to chase its own move. Ninetales managed to unleash an Ice Beam that struck it in the chest, but it resisted the attack and resummoned its bone staff for a blow.
"Extrasensory on its weapon!" I shouted.
The staff shattered before Lucario could strike, and then Ninetales opened her mouth.
This was by far the fastest Blizzard I'd seen her use, and, yet, I knew Lucario would have been able to dodge it if it hadn’t been so wounded. If Lucario had been any less injured, or if Cynthia had been taking the start of this fight any more seriously, this quick attack would not have worked.
Snow coalesced, and ice formed on Lucario’s body. The blue jackal reached forward, intent on striking Ninetales's throat, but, with the rate of expanding frost, it soon came to a halt.
A cracking sound. Lucario struggled. Ninetales completely froze it solid. Given its strength, Lucario might have been quick to break out, but Ninetales's expert cryokinesis and her foe’s injuries wouldn’t let that happen.
There was a tense moment as Ninetales released several weak Ice Beams to ensure the frost wouldn’t break, and Lucario’s eyes stared out from behind a layer of ice. It glared at her, angered and attempting to attack, but it could not move, and I saw its gaze slowly lose focus.
Then, Ninetales pulled every single bit of ice off its body. Lucario collapsed to the floor. There was no movement of the field save for the waving of a flag and the blowing of sand and snow. Off to the side, the referee shouted out.
"Lucario is unable to battle," he announced.
Shouts from the audience. I heard some boos, but most cheered at the sight of a well-fought match. The first of Cynthia’s Pokémon had fainted. Five more were still conscious.
"Hm,” Cynthia mused. “Perhaps I should start taking this battle much more seriously.”
Please don't.
"Please do," I said, playing it up just for the sake of a show.
And, of course, Cynthia grinned.
All that effort to remove Lucario from play, and she still has the rest of her team to go. How much effort is it going to take to knock out her next, and then the one after that, and the one after that?
I was nervous—terrified, even—after seeing what Cynthia’s team had to offer. I felt like giving up here, but that was just the fear speaking.
Against her, against a Champion, I could feel my heartbeat thrum in line with the audience’s cheers.
Five more to go.
Five more Pokémon to faint.
As the last remnants of the Sandstorm faded away, finally being completely replaced by Ninetales's snow, all I could do was watch as Cynthia sent out her next Pokémon.
Spiritomb took the field once more, and it took all my willpower to not feel grim.