"Absol, use Double Team followed by Slash!"
Watching as the red-eyed Breloom charged forward, Dwight remained calm as he issued commands to Absol.
Several illusionary Absols appeared, successfully evading Breloom's attack. The real Absol's Slash followed swiftly, leaving a deep mark on Breloom's back.
In the past, Dwight would've activated his special ability at this point—overwhelming Breloom with a single decisive strike. But Ron wasn't with him now. Dwight saw no reason to recklessly burn through his own stamina. That ability was his trump card—something not to be used lightly.
While special abilities were rare, with a population as large as theirs, the number of people possessing such powers was still significant. Yet, very few rose to prominence. Why? Because of what made them fall.
The immense strength these abilities provided—and the fact that most Trainers were still in their teens—often led to arrogance. Many grew overconfident, thinking their abilities could overcome any foe. That recklessness had cost lives.
Dwight wasn't one of those people.
He had learned restraint. He kept his trump card hidden.
With just Double Team and Slash, Dwight gave Absol the edge it needed to defeat Breloom.
The battle earned them more than just experience. Behind the fallen Breloom stood a fruit-laden tree.
Drawing from his wilderness survival training, Dwight recognized the fruits—non-toxic and edible.
While instructing Absol to harvest every last one, Dwight took the time to bandage Breloom's injuries. He even left some fruit behind for it.
Spending so much time with Ron had taught Dwight something: always keep a baseline of compassion.
Even when battling wild Pokémon, Dwight made a point to treat their wounds afterward.
But if any of them ever stood in Ron's way…
He would eliminate them without hesitation.
"Well done. With these berries, we'll be able to last even longer."
Dwight gently stroked Absol's head as he spoke in a soft voice.
If Ron had been here, he'd likely tease Dwight—counting the number of words Dwight used when talking to Absol, then comparing it to how few words he ever spoke to Ron himself.
Absol nuzzled into Dwight's hand, letting its tension ease under his touch.
The peaceful moment didn't last long. Dwight and Absol turned back toward the cave he'd scouted earlier.
Elsewhere, Gardevoir—deep in psychic training—suddenly opened her eyes. A faint, unfamiliar aura had entered her range. Though weak, it was strangely unreadable, blurring her senses.
"What is it, Gardevoir?"
Noticing her shift in focus, Ron paused his own training to ask.
Using Telepathy, Gardevoir shared what she sensed. Then waited silently for Ron's judgment.
"It's probably nothing. Could be an injured wild Pokémon getting too close. But stay alert—if it turns out dangerous, come get me immediately."
"Understood."
With that, Gardevoir returned to her meditative state.
Ron sighed and shook his head. Even Gardevoir was picking up Dwight's habits. The once-gentle girl now gave one-word answers.
Meanwhile, Dwight and Absol were on the move. As they neared the cave, Absol tensed, its demeanor turning serious as it stared toward the dark opening.
"Absol, scout ahead with Double Team."
Seeing Absol's reaction, Dwight instantly knew—they weren't alone in that cave.
Upon seeing Absol, Dwight immediately realized that an uninvited guest had entered the cave.
Flickering shadows rushed inside, but what echoed back was a low, thunderous dragon's roar.
Heavy footsteps soon followed—and from the darkness emerged a battered and bloodied Salamence.
Its body was covered in scars; some wounds had scabbed over, while others were still bleeding freely.
Had Ron been here, he would've recognized it in an instant—this was the same Mid Elite Four Salamence from before.
After escaping the ranger's grasp, the heavily wounded dragon had started attracting other wild Pokémon—predators drawn by the scent of blood, all hoping to slay a dragon.
But even in a grievously wounded state, Salamence was still far beyond what most wild Pokémon could contend with.
One by one, it defeated those who dared challenge it. But every fight took its toll—more wounds, deeper fatigue.
Now, Salamence felt like a dying ember, a faint flicker of flame that a mere breeze could extinguish.
And yet, when faced with Absol's probing gaze, Salamence still stepped forward.
If it was to die, then let it die in battle.
Salamence had already made peace with its fate—to fall fighting Absol.
Dwight, watching silently from the side, noticed something others might've missed. Perhaps it was the hardships he'd endured before that made him more perceptive. When he looked into Salamence's eyes, he saw more than fury—he saw despair. A deep, buried unwillingness to give in.
"Absol," Dwight whispered, "watch him closely. Be ready to strike at a moment's notice."
With that, he began rummaging through his backpack and pulled out a first-aid kit.
While Absol kept Salamence's attention, Dwight crept silently toward the dragon's side.
But Salamence wasn't easily fooled. Years of instinct told it that this human was trying to catch it. And usually, such attempts were answered with deadly force.
Considering its current state, though, Salamence simply feigned ignorance—pretending not to see Dwight—while keeping its gaze locked on Absol, preparing to unleash a final strike the moment Dwight stepped too close.
But Dwight wasn't trying to capture it.
He quietly knelt behind Salamence and began disinfecting its wounds.
The sting of alcohol halted Salamence's planned attack. It froze in confusion and turned its head slightly—just enough to see Dwight working with unwavering focus, wrapping its wounds with clean bandages.
"Sol!"
Alert, Absol stepped between them in a flash, shielding Dwight from danger. If Salamence so much as twitched, Absol was ready to grab Dwight and retreat instantly.
But Salamence didn't move.
Instead, it watched quietly for a moment, and then... it lay down.
There was no longer hatred in its eyes—just weariness.
If it was going to die anyway, it might as well enjoy the warmth of human kindness one last time.
It closed its eyes peacefully, ready for the end. All it asked for now… was that this kind-hearted boy would give it a proper burial, so its body wouldn't be left to rot in the wild.
"Why…? Why isn't it working!? I bandaged every wound—every single one!" Dwight cried out in frustration, staring helplessly at the dragon's fading breath.
He kept asking himself, over and over.
Why wasn't it enough?
Hearing his voice, Salamence wanted to answer—to explain that its body had already been broken beyond repair, that the injuries ran deeper than the flesh. No amount of bandages could save it now.
But it didn't have the strength to speak.
Its eyelids were unbearably heavy.
It just wanted to sleep.
Whoosh—POP!
A signal flare burst into the sky.
Salamence wanted to lift its eyes, to see what was happening.
But they wouldn't open.
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