The young Kommo-o's roar was loud enough to shake the very earth. A dozen other Hakamo-o stomped their feet and clawed at the ground. The atmosphere itself was ripe with the sounds of their clanging scales. Yet, despite all their efforts to be intimidating, a genuine smile formed on my face.
“You can do it, Eevee!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Behind me, the rest of my team joined in, shouting their own cheers and words of encouragement.
At least fifty individual stars left Eevee’s tail as he furiously darted from side-to-side. The Hakamo-o gave chase, stumbling as it failed to follow and skidding to a halt when it saw what was forming up around it. It did its best to claw at the incoming stars to pop and dissipate what it could, but the vast majority of the Swift battered it from all angles, the homing attack closing in.
Then, Eevee continued. His opponent didn’t have even a second to recover. The moment Eevee’s Swift ended, the Hakamo-o looked up only to see a Shadow Ball hurtling towards its face.
The cheers from its allies stopped. The only sound in the clearing was the thud from the unconscious Dragon Type hitting the ground. A second later, my voice echoed over the rough, dirt field.
“YES! YOU DID IT! YOU WON!”
The sheer volume of the cheers from my Pokémon made me wince briefly from the unexpected noise. Across from us, our opponents groaned in disappointment, and some of those wild Hakamo-o watching slumped to the ground. Eyes lingered on their fallen compatriot as Eevee ran back to us and jumped into my arms. Ribombee buzzed over to place a healing Pollen Puff in the fainted Hakamo-o’s mouth.
“You did an amazing job.”
Eevee pushed his face into my chest. I proudly scratched just behind his ears as he let out the equivalent to a purr.
After that, the important part happened; Ninetales walked forward. A pseudo-Legendary Kommo-o helped up its previously fainted ally before sending it back. That fully evolved Dragon Type stood off across from Ninetales, Ribombee awkwardly flitting between them without an easy way to flee. A moment later, Ninetales huffed, and the Kommo-o looked away. It opened up a claw to reveal a pile of loose scales that it pushed forward.
Ninetales grabbed every single one and returned to my side. Our winnings were properly collected and deposited with the rest.
“Anyone else want to get in a last minute challenge? Or has a month of straight losing finally been enough?” I called out.
A few of those wild Dragon Types scowled, and one almost stepped forward. However, it seemed to lose its courage the second it was about to put its foot down. Instead, it stepped back and didn’t look any of us in the eyes.
“That's what I thought,” I said.
I got a series of lizard-like jeers in return.
No longer having a reason to stay, this set of challengers left without even a goodbye. I took this chance to turn back to my team as the Dragon Types stomped off. This small patch of land at the very top of the canyon was firmly ours at this point.
“For the past month, we've trained,” I began, Eevee still in my arms. “For the past month, you all have developed your moves, skills, and strength in battle. The stream of Hakamo-o challengers have served as a grinding stone to settle what we’ve learned, and you've all managed to work in new tricks and strategies while taking them on. I can count our defeats on one hand.”
I glanced between my waiting team members as they let loose cheers once more. Mimikyu stood tall, the chin of his Disguise propped back to be held in the air. Ribombee's fuzz was on its ends—out of puffed up pride, and not out of fear. As for Togekiss and Tinkaton, both of them were smiling. However, I knew if I pointed that out to Tinkaton she'd try to hide it out of embarrassment.
“And now, there's only one more thing left to do,” I continued. “We’re finally leaving this damned canyon and meeting up with everyone else. That is, we are unless you want to continue training—”
Their cries told me that they were more than ready to move on.
“Then let's put away our pile of Dragon Scales and head out. I’m looking forward to seeing Hope and Lillie again.”
As my team was returned, I didn't miss the way Eevee stared up at me with an unspoken question in his eyes. After all, an entire month had passed, and he was still wearing his Everstone collar, which carried all the implications and restrictions inherent in that. However, despite this final speech, I hadn’t brought up the one thing he cared about: his evolution.
So, I simply nodded once, and when he returned, there was a bright smile on his face.
Then, and only then, was he finally sent back into his Love Ball.
“Let's go, Ninetales,” I said.
My last Pokémon out barked in agreement.
Leaving the canyon didn't take much effort. For all the twists and turns it had, we pretty much had to just follow the main path. A month of experience meant we were more than ready to face its challenges, and only a few times did we have to defeat or scare off any wild Pokémon. Thankfully, Ninetales was more than strong enough for that.
Reaching the entrance of the canyon, there were several people standing around. Most of them were trainers that had entered the place after me. So many had already come and gone, but we had timed this reunion to line up with Hapu’s scheduled “final days.” That is, the date set to meet back up with Hope and Lillie was also set on a day that trainers were meant to return after their week-long trial.
I passed several other trainers panting and leaning against rock walls. Some were talking, and others were providing information to local Island Challenge employees to schedule their future match with Hapu.
“Did you have to deal with all those dragons too?” I heard one ask another as I walked past.
“Ugh. There were so many of them. I thought this was going to be a piece of cake, but I had to leave and finish it on this attempt after being overwhelmed by Hakamo-o the first time.”
I chuckled quietly.
I knew Hapu had set that up.
Looking around, I didn't immediately recognize anyone else, only seeing the aforementioned exiting trainers and a few more sitting off to the side. The variety of Pokémon here was immense, as every team was unique and built up across Alola to take on the region’s final trial. There were pairs like a man and his fluffy Cinccino, a hatted woman with an dozing Komala, a jacketed girl with a Granbull doing its best to look brave, and a boy with a—
“Wait a minute.”
I found myself narrowing my eyes.
Ninetales was already staring. Looking closer, one of those trainers I noted stood out more than the rest.
The girl with a jacket. While the Granbull was unfamiliar, there was a cheeky smile barely visible under her raised hood, and a few strands of blonde hair poked out of that hood’s sides.
I approached her, barely needing to change my stride to meet her on the path.
“Nice to see you again, Lillie. Nice to meet you too, Granbull.”
An annoyed huff from the girl, and the bipedal dog next to her suddenly froze before taking on its best, purposefully angry face. The Granbull tried to intimidate us, but the way it kept sending nervous glances to the immensely powerful Ninetales completely ruined that effect.
“How did you know it was me?!” Lillie complained, pulling her hood down.
Her outfit wasn't the same as usual. This time around, she had acquired a red jacket and jean pants.
“You were the only girl here, and Granbull is a Fairy Type. Given that it's a native species on this island and you spoke about wanting a physical attacker, it only made sense you might try to catch one.”
She sighed, and Granbull did its best to growl. However, Lillie calmed down the dog by scratching its head, and one of its feet started to thump while it leaned into her touch.
“I should have known I wouldn’t be able to trick you,” she grumbled.
I shrugged.
“It was worth the attempt.”
“But, you're completely right! I caught Granbull here, and on the first day, too. He was great at scaring off all the Hakamo-o, and he was even better at training with my team!” She smiled, and I could tell Lillie was genuinely happy. “Isn't he just the cutest, too? Who’s a good boy? Oh, who’s a good boy?”
She turned to her Granbull and scratched at its stomach. The dog ended up falling onto its back, tongue hanging out. Lillie knelt down to continue to furiously pet him as Granbull groaned out of pure contentment.
(For as much as members of the species tended to resemble angry bulldogs, Granbull were rather timid more often than not, and this one seemed to be especially a pushover when it came to Lillie.)
“Had some good fights, then?” I asked.
“Uh-huh. I managed to battle some trainers, too,” Lillie replied.
“And how were they?”
Lillie paused. Granbull looked up as if to ask why she stopped.
“They were, well, they were... easy. We always won. I don't know.” She pursed her lips. “I don't want to be mean, but it felt like all the trainers we fought had their Pokémon faint far too fast. Are we strong? Are they weak? I don’t know what to think about all of that.”
I wasn't sure how to respond to that right away, and it took me a few seconds to figure out a reply.
“Well, it might be important to remember that not everyone has had the same opportunities as you or even just the same level of determination,” I said. “We were mad enough to train an entire month in the canyon. I mean, to spend so long getting stronger—”
Her face went bright red.
“...a full month,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“...I didn't stay there the full month,” Lillie repeated.
I blinked, unable to respond yet again.
“I, um, left a few times to go to the Pokémon Center,” she explained, not meeting my eyes. “I wanted to make sure my Pokémon didn't get too hurt, and uh... Ialsoreallywantedtotakeshowers!”
Another few seconds passed, and I let out an amused snort
“I spent about three-fourths of the month training?” she offered.
“That's fine. You knew what your team could take, and if you didn't want to risk them getting seriously hurt, there's nothing wrong with heading back to heal.”
“Really?” She looked at me, blinking in disbelief.
“Sure,” I said, keeping my expression perfectly unreadable. “I mean, if you took a few breaks, that means you wisely spent time recovering and ensuring you could push your Pokémon as hard as ever. If not, well, that might mean we have to do some remedial lessons.”
The color drained from her face as she clearly remembered how our initial time training had been spent. Drill sergeant Hope was one thing, and that level of physical conditioning was another.
“No, no! That's okay!” she shouted, shaking her hands. “We trained just fine on our own!”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Y-yup!” She did her best to look like she was confident in her declaration.
I stared at her with an analytic gaze before nodding my head, satisfied. Only a second later, I broke out in snickers.
“You don’t need to worry. I’m just messing with you. You did a good job, Lillie.”
“Really?” She peeked up at me.
“Really,” I replied.
Lillie brought her hood back up in an attempt to hide her blush.
“T-thanks, Alex,” she said.
I smiled and patted her on her head, much to her annoyance.
Later, the meeting with Hope was a lot more uneventful. That basta—I mean, that fellow trainer left the canyon a full week early. When we met back up at the Seafolk Village Pokémon Center, she just grinned and winked an eye.
“I had to leave early. Had to hide a bit from you,” she said, levity clear in her voice. “You'll see just how much stronger my team has got later. Alex, you can't forget the end of the season is coming up. I have to keep some tricks up my sleeve for my eventual battle against you.”
“Tricks up your sleeve, huh?” I asked.
She merely sent me a cheeky grin in reply.
And with that challenge set, there was only one more battle left to get through on these islands. Scheduled to happen just a few days from now, my team had a match against Hapu, who would be our final Kahuna to beat and our final trainer to test on behalf of the impending Alolan Pokémon League.
----------------------------------------
“Tinkaton!”
“Dugtrio!”
Three days later, I met with Hapu on her family’s ranch, and there was no reason to stall before starting the match. After a month-long trial, it was time to get into it, though neither Hope nor Lillie were here, as they didn't want to see spoilers for their own Kahuna fight.
“Rock Smash!”
“Dig!”
Hapu stood at an impressive four-feet tall, yet despite her short stature, she practically radiated strength. Her face was locked in an expression of pure determination, making it seem that she had no doubts about the outcome of the fight.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
For this match, we were using a patch of dirt that had been trampled flat by herds of Hapu’s Pokémon. As for the match’s rules, since Hapu had to fight high level trainers two to three times a day, she would only use four Pokémon. However, those four Pokémon were some of the best, an eight-star team trained by both her and her late grandfather—the previous Kahuna.
“Don't bother breaking up the ground!” I shouted. “Weaken its defense!”
Tinkaton primed her hammer as the yellow-maned Dugtrio disappeared into the dirt. All three heads vanished, and Hapu watched carefully with a discerning eye.
A smash—Tinkaton’s hammer impacted the floor right where her opponent had burrowed. Then, there was a rumbling behind her, but when Tinkaton turned around and swung, Dugtrio was just outside of her range.
“Earthquake,” Hapu calmly ordered.
The ground shook horrendously, sending Tinkaton reeling back on one foot. She just barely managed to keep upright thanks to her quick-thinking, shoving the handle of her hammer into the ground as support.
“Iron Head,” Hapu said, calling for Dugtrio to follow-up its previous attack.
“Swing, Tinkaton!” I yelled.
While she managed to withstand the super-effective Earthquake, she wasn't able to parry the Iron Head that came her way. Metal hair slammed into her gut, and blonde strands tangled her up to make moving that much harder. For all the practice we had done to train her two abilities—Own Tempo and Mold Breaker—Tinkaton didn’t have a way to resist Dugtrio’s own ability, Tangling Hair.
Dugtrio has used only two attacks so far, but Tinkaton isn’t looking good. I knew it was a risk using her in this battle, but if we can just wait for the right moment...
It took a few seconds for Tinkaton to reorient herself after being wrapped up, which gave the Alolan Dugtrio plenty of time to disappear back underground and emerge a distance away. From their movement over the field, Tinkaton was now closer to Hapu, and Dugtrio was closer to me. Seeing how quickly Dugtrio had changed positions, I realized Tinkaton would never be able to catch up.
Hapu came to that realization, too.
“Sandstorm,” she said.
Sure, her Dugtrio’s Sand Veil and Sand Force abilities would greatly enhance it in a Sandstorm, but jumping on this chance to use a utility move had made it so she had finally fallen into our trap.
“Encore!” I shouted with all of my might.
As Dugtrio spun around in place, kicking sand and dirt into a growing storm into the air, Tinkaton planted her hammer once more only to cheer and clap.
The cheers from Encore were a trick; she encouraged Dugtrio to make the mistake of using the same move again. Falling for the move, Dugtrio didn’t burrow or prepare any other attack. Instead, it paused briefly to catch its breath, then all three heads spun in place once more to send even more dirt into the air—to little effect.
“You know what to do from here, Tinkaton,” I said with a sigh of relief.
Her Steel Type protected her from the worst of the Sandstorm, allowing her to easily run forward. Dugtrio kept in one position and was too preoccupied with using the weather move again, so it never thought to run away.
A horrible thud echoed out as Tinkaton swung down, her attack hitting like an awful game of whack-a-mole. The head of her hammer was wide enough to strike all three heads at once, and her Fighting Type Rock Smash was super-effective due to Dugtrio’s secondary Steel Type.
When it tried to flee, it was already too late. Tinkaton lunged forward to grab the Pokémon by its hair, which let her get one more stunted-yet-powerful swing in with her free hand. That final attack finished it all.
“Return, Dugtrio,” Hapu said. “Krookodile.”
The Pokémon that replaced Dugtrio was a large, red crocodile that stood on two legs. Pitch black eyes glanced around, with markings over them that made it seem permanently enraged.
“Brace for its attacks and swing when it's close,” I whispered to Tinkaton.
As for Hapu, she gave her own command, but it was muffled by the noise of the swirling Sandstorm currently over the field.
From within that cloud of dust, I saw the silhouette of Krookodile charging forward. Tinkaton’s large hands gripped her hammer’s handle as she prepared to either swing or block, depending on what Krookodile did.
However, instead of getting close and slashing like how its raised claws threatened to do, Krookodile proved that Dark Types could use tricks as well, and at the last second, it jumped up and slammed its butt on the ground.
The Pokémon was heavy enough that a shockwave tore through the ground. It didn’t need to get close to use Earthquake, it just needed to mislead Tinkaton long enough that she wouldn’t think to use Protect.
It worked. She was struck by the unexpected attack. This second super effective move was enough, and the churning earth threw her up into the air before slamming into the ground, unconscious.
Despite being knocked out, she never once let go of her hammer.
“Return,” I said. Tinkaton disappeared in a red light. “You did a good job.”
I couldn’t blame her for fainting here. I had sent a Steel Type up against Hapu, after all. Even Mawile would have struggled to perform well, but at least Tinkaton had taken out Hapu’s Dugtrio and lured out her second Pokémon.
“Ribombee,” I said.
With his appearance and through the Sandstorm, I managed to catch the briefest of surprised expressions on Hapu’s face.
“Krookodile, come back. Golurk, come out,” she quickly said.
The Dark Type Pokémon was returned before my Bug Type could make use of his Type advantage. Appearing in Krookodile’s place was a clay, Ghost Type golem that stood twice my height.
The size discrepancy between it and Ribombee was truly ridiculous.
“Heat Crash,” Hapu ordered.
“Heat—what?!”
Golurk might have been a sentient, Ground Type golem, but for some reason, it could also fly. Rockets of flames left its column-sized heels to hurtle it into the air. It used that as a surprise burst of speed and angled itself right at Ribombee. I barely had time to call for a Quiver Dance before the Pokémon exploded against the ground.
Ribombee moved just barely faster than the wave of flame that exploded out around Golurk. If it wasn’t for this past month of training, he would have definitely been caught, and that would have been the end of this match-up.
“Shadow Punch,” Hapu said, not even surprised by Ribombee’s survival.
Robotically, Golurk brought itself up and drew back an arm. Shadows coalesced around its knuckles.
“This is going to hurt. Keep building!” I yelled.
Ribombee did his best to continue with Quiver Dance as Golurk threw its arm forward.
Shadow Punch was a Ghost Type move that tracked its opponent. Like Swift, the move always hit, and in this case, a ghostly, fist-shaped apparition chased after Ribombee.
For a second, Ribombee outpaced it, and I genuinely thought he could avoid this second attack as well. However, it was like a missile and gained momentum, approaching faster and faster. Before too long, Ribombee was finally struck, and the little bug cried out in his high-pitched voice.
His physical defenses were lacking, so the impact knocked him out of the sky, right towards the ground.
“Repeat Heat Crash. Prepare for it to dodge,” Hapu said.
The Sandstorm was almost gone at this point, but sand dug into Ribombee’s wounds as he struggled to orient himself before hitting the ground.
This is exactly what she planned, isn’t it? This strategy is why she had Golurk replace Krookodile.
Golurk’s feet burst with flame once more, launching itself through the air to aim where Ribombee was set to land. I didn’t want to reveal this new move so early, but I had no choice but to call it out anyway.
“Agility!”
Turns out, Ninetales was the perfect training partner with Ribombee. Not only was she able to help him train this move to make use of his prodigious speed, but she was also able to—
Well, that’d be spoilers.
His Agility wasn’t as offensive-oriented as Quiver Dance, but the move was twice as effective at increasing his speed. With a single use, practically no Pokémon could keep up. Stacked alongside Quiver Dance, he did the impossible and managed to slip right under Golurk’s legs before either of them hit the ground.
“Now, up and around, then use Dazzling Gleam. Don’t give it any time to aim another Shadow Punch!” I shouted.
Skill and speed let him just barely pull up before his momentum brought him to the floor, and flames licked the air behind him, around Golurk’s immobile body. It began to push itself up to react before Ribombee struck, but my Bug Type was much, much faster. He exploded with Fairy Type light before it could draw back its arm, and then he rushed off as the Golurk stumbled from the unexpected, searing burst.
Frowning, Hapu called out a new move for her Golurk to use, except this one was a little strange.
“Stealth Rock,” she said.
A little late to set up an entry hazard, isn’t it? I have little reason to switch Ribombee here, and Stealth Rock encourages me to keep him in even more, especially since he’s properly buffed himself up.
Why would she want that?
With the boost from Quiver Dance, Ribombee was able to use Dazzling Gleam several times over in the time it set up the rock-based entry hazard move. In the end, a faint internal glow faded away, and Golurk powered down into unconsciousness, kneeling on the floor.
“Krookodile,” Hapu called out next.
I frowned harder.
Why send out a Pokémon she just recalled against Ribombee?
“Use Snarl. On repeat,” she ordered.
With that command, everything made a bit more sense.
Snarl was a Dark Type move, which Ribombee resisted, but the noise it made also caused a Pokémon to be cowed, reducing the ease at which they used special moves. That weakness might have reduced how much Quiver Dance had enhanced Ribombee, except there was an issue with that plan:
Ribombee had recently trained his ability, Shield Dust, thanks to Ninetales.
Ribombee already had great control over the dust that he could release from his body, thanks to Stun Spore. Thanks to that, training Shield Dust was no problem at all given that the ability consisted of using that dust to protect himself from damaging moves with secondary effects.
This was the training Ninetales also helped with, as her Icy Wind was the perfect, weak attack to help him train this resistance. The move carried the secondary effect of lowering Ribombee’s speed, and by the end of the month of training, faint frost would build on his body, but never enough to actually hinder his movements.
So when Krookodile used Snarl in this battle, there was little reaction from Ribombee himself. He took a slight amount of damage, and faint, glittering dust left his body, protecting him from the worst of the attack’s added effects.
“Bug Buzz!” I ordered.
In addition to the noises coming from the battlefield, Ribombee went on and added his own. His wings flapped hard enough that I could hear them from here, and his body shook to enhance it.
bzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
This Bug Buzz was super effective, and Krookodile fainted right away. Unfortunately for Hapu, Quiver Dance was an especially strong, self-buffing move, and the lack of speed from Golurk had left Ribombee properly set up.
“Hmm.” Hapu looked at Ribombee where he buzzed to-and-fro over the field. “Your Pokémon is surprisingly strong. I’ve made a mistake letting it set up as it did.”
Overall, her team would have been a struggle if it wasn’t for Ribombee’s skill. We’d come a long way, and while he didn’t quite match up to the most elite of my elite, Quiver Dance could let him fight at a much higher level than he could otherwise.
“He’s quickly becoming one of my strongest, but I actually think I’m going to call him back.”
Hapu raised an eyebrow.
“Truly? Even with my Stealth Rock?”
“I made a promise to another member of my team that I'd use him in this match today.”
Ribombee couldn’t stay still with the energy currently contained within him, but that energy faded away when he was returned alongside the fainted Krookodile on the ground. Replacing Hapu’s Pokémon was not her ace Mudsdale, but it was a Mudsdale that had definitely been bred from the same stock. It was a heavy, mud-colored clydesdale-like horse, but it had the intelligent eyes of a Pokémon rather than the ones of an animal from my old world.
Across from it, my own Pokémon came out. Except, when it came to the level of this battle, his appearance almost seemed to be a surprise.
“An Eevee?” Hapu asked. She sounded genuinely confused.
“May I have a moment?” I asked right back.
She nodded her head.
“Of course.”
With a whistle, Eevee came bounding back to me, not even hesitating to jump into my arms. I rubbed his soft fur and made sure he was okay. There was a knowing smile on his face as he nuzzled my chest.
“Eevee,” I said. “You know what we have planned.”
He responded with an excited “Voi!” before pushing his head into my hand.
“I know we talked to Nurse Joy about this, but even if you evolve into Espeon, you’ll still have a place on my team. Though, I don’t think we need to worry about that. After all your practice, you know what you want, right?”
He nodded his head again—quite adamantly, at that—and I released him from my arms to let him leap back onto the ground.
“Here we go,” I said.
With a click, I unhooked the Everstone collar around his neck. There was no waiting at all. The second it was off, Eevee began to glow.
It was time to evolve.
Right away, his body became taller. His fur became significantly less fluffy, too. For a second, I grew nervous; there were only two Eeveelutions that were this sleek, but the emergence of something around his neck made my worries completely disappear.
He gained a bow, and then a second bow on one of his lengthening ears. From both of them, two lengths of ribbon grew out, giving him a total of four. They whipped around randomly before rapidly coming under his control. When the glow faded, my smile was as large as it could get.
Eevee—no, Sylveon—had evolved into the exact species he wanted.
“I should have never been worried,” I said, barely able to suppress my happy laughter. “You did it. You’re a Sylveon.”
Bright blue eyes took in his new body in almost complete shock. He quickly adapted to his newest appendages—his ribbons—as he used them to touch his much shorter fur.
“Congratulations,” I whispered.
Sylveon looked up at me. I could see moisture forming in the corner of his eyes. Then, just like always, he jumped up into my arms, letting out a loud but happy cry.
“Syl-veon!” he yelled, and with that, I knew his evolution was complete.
“I see,” Hapu said across from us. “Congratulations on the evolution. Do you plan on continuing the battle?”
I nodded as I rubbed Sylveon’s back. With his larger size, he was a little harder to hold. His fur was a bit coarser than before, too, but it was just as soft underneath.
“Of course,” I said.
What I didn’t say out loud was that I wanted to use Sylveon’s evolution to our advantage. In truth, I had stolen this idea from Lillie. Back against Kiawe, she had used the remnant power of evolution to fuel a win in the past. I wanted to do the same while also using that power to train new moves.
Setting Sylveon back onto the ground, he leaped forward to re-enter the battlefield. All four ribbons were already firmly under his control, wiggling with excitement as he prepared for his debut match.
“We’re going in hot,” I said.
Both Hapu and I called out our attacks right after.
“Heavy Slam!”
“Growl!”
Mudsdale charged, and Sylveon used Quick Attack to run away, turning around and letting loose a sharp Growl.
If Hapu was surprised I had called for such a “weak” move in a high level battle, she didn’t show it. She kept the same serious look as always as her large horse Pokémon thundered forward.
With Quick Attack, Sylveon easily outpaced it, and I even started to notice a few flecks of pink coming off of the speedy move’s glow. I was only partially surprised at that—with all Sylveon did to prepare for his evolution, it made sense he would have a strong enough handle on Fairy Type energy to already start developing his ability, Pixilate.
We can use that.
I called for a Growl again in the meantime, and Hapu called for something new.
“Mud-Slap.”
Like Growl, it was a weak attack, but it carried a useful effect for this battle. While Mudsdale wasn’t able to catch up to Sylveon with its Heavy Slam charge, it was able to slide to a halt and kick up mud that splashed onto its foe.
That mud gunked up Sylveon’s movements and made it harder for him to run around. Effectively slowed, Quick Attack wasn’t as useful, and I could tell that Mudsdale would be able to catch up.
“Growl again!” I shouted.
Hapu gained a frown.
When Sylveon yelled his new name for the third time, the Growl came out louder, and the short hair on Mudsdale’s body stood on its end. Sure, Growl was supposed to lower an opponent's willingness to use its full physical power, but that effect tended to barely take effect in high levels of play. Mudsdale was trained enough that it was barely unnerved, but that last Growl had a certain, offensive quality to it.
This was great news. Sylveon had technically always known Growl, but I never really considered it part of his moveset. Both Baby-Doll Eyes and Charm were significantly better. However, using it here let Sylveon practice using his voice, and I could tell we were on the verge of a rather important breakthrough.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
He turned around briefly, and from the look on his face, he was as confident as ever.
“Heavy Slam,” Hapu ordered again. This time, as Mud-slap had slowed Sylveon, there was a decent chance the Steel Type move would actually hit.
“Hm. Go ahead and try it out,” I said to Sylveon. “Do it! Use Hyper Voice!”
He couldn’t run away, so he instead stood his ground. He hopped and turned to face the Mudsdale, then he let out an ear-rattling cry.
I had to press my hands to my head to muffle the noise. Clearly, the Hyper Voice was a work in progress given how undirected it was, but the in-practice move was still loud enough to send a shiver down Mudsdale’s spine. The horse ended up veering off ever-so-slightly from the weak damage of the attack. Sylveon was clipped, but the super effective damage of Heavy Slam was properly mitigated as he jumped away.
“Again!” I cried out.
“Mud Shot!”
Heavy Slam was not really an option anymore given that we’d proven Sylveon was significantly more agile than Mudsdale in practically every way. With Mud Shot, however, Mudsdale could hurt Sylveon from range, and that gave it the chance of landing a more damaging attack in the future.
A foot stomped down, and dirt was transmuted into mud. The glob sailed to the air and splashed, splattering Sylveon and dirtying his coat.
“Again. Use all four legs,” Hapu said.
In return, another Hyper Voice was sent out, but Mudsdale was able to withstand the in-practice move. From there, it used all four legs to rapidly stamp the ground, creating a Stomping Tantrum-like barrage that constantly kicked up globs of dirt towards where Sylveon did his best to run.
Sylveon was forced to run, but every ounce of mud slowed him down a bit more. More and more dirt stuck to his fur, and I knew Hapu was priming him to be vulnerable to either a proper Heavy Slam or one last Earthquake.
If we wanted to win, we needed something new. For that, I shifted gears to turn to a long-practiced attack that would make the most of Sylveon’s currently developing ability.
“Here we go. Time to win. Use Swift! Push for Pixilate!”
He used the move right away.
All four of his ribbons vibrated, and stars drifted above his head from every little movement. Enough formed to create an entire night’s sky, tinted pink, that hurtled down at the Mudsdale with apocalyptic power.
Of course, it was still only a Swift, but the move was slightly enhanced by his developing Pixilate. That, combined with the increase in power his evolution granted, meant Sylveon’s attack left nasty welts on Mudsdale’s side. However, it hadn't fainted just yet.
“Earthquake,” Hapu said.
That’s it. She’s trying to end this match.
I pointed forward. One attack to seal the battle in our favor.
“Jump into Shadow Ball!”
Earthquake wasn’t an instantaneous attack; it lasted for several seconds. Sylveon leaped, and instead of using Shadow Ball like I asked, he instead used Swift. He fell like a meteor alongside his stars and the Mudsdale’s stomps shook the very earth. It withstood his move right up until he landed, and then it suddenly got the facefull of darkness that had been obscured by his attack.
It was an exact repeat of what happened to the Hakamo-o, but Sylveon was stronger than he was as an Eevee in practically every way. The heavy horse that was his opponent stumbled backwards, and what ended the match was not a move, but instead, Sylveon’s ribbon reached out to grab Mudsdale’s leg and cause it to trip, falling to the ground.
It did not get back up.
“Mudsdale is not my strongest Pokémon, but he is meant to shine in a close-quarters melee. Here in this battle—”
I chuckled, and Hapu stopped talking.
“Sylveon was the perfect counter, then. Mudsdale wasn’t able to do much.”
“Mud-Slap and Mud Shot might slow the Pokémon they hit, but they are not effective attacks when used by Mudsdale,” Hapu replied.
Sylveon shook to get the mud off his body, and I held up his Love Ball as he ran over. Before I could return him, however, he cried out and held out one of his ribbons. That pink flesh tendril—which was an accurate way to describe his ribbon—wrapped around my arm as he stopped me. He looked up at me, and I saw moisture tinge his blue eyes once more.
“Congratulations,” I said softly.
He smiled once more, squeezing his eyes shut as he wiped the tears away. The cry he gave out was a cry of his evolved form, and I walked with him to meet with Hapu in the center of the field.
Sylveon might have had a slight limp after that match, but he was greatly enjoying being in his new form.
“After that battle, I am looking forward to seeing what Hope and Lillie have to offer,” Hapu said.
I clasped her hand to shake it after a good match. Mudsdale had been returned while I was walking with Sylveon.
“You’ll definitely enjoy fighting them,” I replied. “Especially Lillie. Some of the strategies she's come up with have surprised me.”
“Oh? How so?”
I grinned and found myself quoting Hope.
“You’ll have to wait and see. She has to keep some tricks up her sleeve, after all.”
The normally unflappable Hapu chuckled lightly at that. She shook her head and pulled back her hand.
“I’ll be using my stronger Pokémon against Hope. This match demonstrated my capability as a Gym Leader. Now, I need to show off that I have true strength.”
“Good luck,” I said with a slight chuckle. I really meant it, too.
A brief awkward moment passed as I tried to figure out how to approach the next topic I wanted to bring up.
“By the way, about Poni Island's hidden altar...” I started.
“You’ll have my permission once I battle Hope and Lillie. As for direction, all you need to do is follow the main path of Vast Poni Canyon to head straight in,” she immediately replied.
I blinked in surprise.
“Wait, that's it?”
It was her turn to smile.
“Yes. Most who approach are turned around by the wild Pokémon that protect the area. If you don’t earn the right, you are relentlessly attacked. For you, the journey will be peaceful. Though, I’ll note that you had earned the privilege the moment you defeated the Totem Kommo-o. It’s strange how these things work out.”
“Huh.” I opened my mouth before closing it a second later. I needed to take a moment to think. “Wait, so the Dragon Types told you about that?”
“Alex, I work with them to organize a trial that strengthens both them and all of my challengers,” Hapu replied in a chiding tone. “I know everything that goes on in that canyon. I learned of your challenge within an hour.”
“...That's fair,” I said.
“Although...”
Hapu’s serious expression suddenly returned. I found myself standing up straighter, the vibe around us plunging into cold professionalism.
“I’ve received reports of the Aether Foundation on Poni Island,” Hapu said. “They’ve been taking steps towards the island’s altar without directly approaching its location. While I’ve ensured they stayed away from Lillie, there is nothing I can do if they wish to approach the altar themselves. For the work they’ve done helping injured Pokémon, they’ve already earned the right to visit in the past.”
I couldn’t stop the grimace from forming on my face.
“Thank you. That isn’t good news, but it’s good to know,” I said.
“I trust the Aether Foundation, but their actions in the recent months have been worrying,” Hapu said, shaking her head. “Leave as soon as you can. It will be better to bring the Pokémon to the Altar before they interfere.”
The Pokémon? She means Nebby.
Ugh. There’ve been too many changes. I can’t be sure of their true objective with what little information that’s stayed true from the games.
I didn't have too long to dwell on that before Hapu turned around and waved for me to follow.
“But, before then, we have other matters. You’ve just earned the Z-Crystals for Poni island, yes?”
Her words made my smile return.
“Just about, yeah.”
Adding together what I had before with what she handed me, I now had a Z-Crystal for every Type. In other words, I now had a complete set of every base Z-Crystal possible. Those Z-Crystals served as proof that Alola’s challenges had been conquered, and my time in Alola was approaching its end. Though, there were still a few, important things left to handle.