Staring at the scorched remains of the forest, everyone involuntarily swallowed hard.
If that [Shadow Ball] from earlier had been aimed at them… not even ten Luxray could've held the line.
Elias had been right—if that had been Zoroark, they wouldn't still be standing.
And similarly… if Zoroark was that powerful, then taking down a Pokémon like Spiritomb in such a short time didn't sound impossible at all.
Just asking the question had already embarrassed them enough.
And perhaps because the explosion had been too loud—
Now freed from Spiritomb's control, Volo furrowed his brows and slowly struggled to his feet.
Clutching his spinning head, he cracked open one eye.
The sight before him made him freeze for a moment—then, as realization struck, he snapped his head toward Elias.
No doubt about it. Somewhere along the way, he'd been exposed.
More importantly… Garchomp and the others had failed. Elias had walked away unscathed—and was now publicly exposing his crimes.
And his recently caught Spiritomb… had apparently turned on him.
Volo's sharp eyes caught sight of the Pokémon in question—not far off, looking nervously small and very much not on his side.
And the Plate beneath it? Gone.
Most likely taken by Elias too.
Even though he'd just come to, wave after wave of disastrous news was crashing through his brain.
If he could, he'd rather just pass out again.
Seeing that Elias had no intention of acknowledging him, Volo clenched his fists.
He drew a long breath, forcing himself to stay calm.
There was still a chance. Elias had obviously identified him—but likely had no hard evidence.
Cynthia might know about the plan, but just knowing wouldn't convince anyone without proof.
So all he had to do… was keep playing the role of the innocent, falsely accused merchant.
After all, at the moment, suspicion still technically weighed heavier on Elias.
Just as he was thinking this, someone spoke.
"Fine, let's say that wasn't Zoroark just now—how do you prove it wasn't her last night, either?"
"Could've been both of them working together."
"And as far as I know, Spiritomb doesn't even show up around here. They usually dwell in ruins or caves. Why would one be here?"
Selective memory in full swing, the speaker ignored his own previous doubts and pressed on.
"That's actually my second piece of evidence," Elias replied calmly.
Then he turned toward the crowd.
"Cynthia?"
"Here."
At his call, Cynthia stepped forward, emerging from the onlookers at a relaxed pace.
Floating beside her was an orange-red Pokémon—Rotom.
Some in the crowd recognized the species.
But unlike the usual round-bodied Rotom with its little lightning-bolt wings, this one was rectangular—and considerably bulkier.
"I've got some interesting evidence with me. Want to take a look?"
She gestured toward Rotom, smiling.
Not long ago, Volo had leaned straight into her camera and calmly explained everything about his plan.
With the resolution on her communicator, you could practically see the pores on his face. There would be no denying it.
Sure enough, curiosity rippled through the crowd.
"What kind of evidence?" the Pearl Clan Chief asked, right on cue.
"Well, this one's better seen than explained."
In this era, "evidence" usually meant the testimony of three or more witnesses.
Physical evidence was almost unheard of.
Cynthia figured it was time to show both clans what real proof looked like.
With that, she lifted the Rotom-powered communicator and began browsing through the recorded footage.
Volo, who had just begun to relax, immediately tensed again.
That orange-red "brick"… she'd been holding it up the whole time he was talking.
At the time, he hadn't thought much of it.
But now, watching her sift through it for "evidence," panic surged through his veins.
What even is that thing?
Fighting through his dazed state, Volo scrambled mentally through everything he knew.
He rifled through ruins he'd explored, ancestral texts, obscure trivia and scrolls—anything that might give him a clue.
But came up empty.
There was nothing like that "brick" anywhere in his knowledge.
Clearly, the girl was wielding something far beyond his comprehension.
What kind of lineage is she even from?
While Volo sat there unraveling, Cynthia finished queuing the footage.
She motioned Rotom to float higher and turn around, letting the crowd get a clear view of the screen.
The video began.
The first image was Volo's face.
Unlike his current disheveled state, the man onscreen appeared poised and elegant.
Murmurs rose from the crowd.
None of them had seen anything like this before—something that could store a person's image and project it back.
And then—audio.
"Alright, we can begin."
Crisp, unmistakable. Cynthia's voice.
The crowd collectively widened their eyes.
They understood now. They got it.
And down on the ground, Volo's dazed gaze froze completely. His lips parted. His face went pale.
Something that records image and sound?
This exists?
Was it something his ancestors created?
Or… had Cynthia made it herself?
Whichever it was, Volo knew one thing for certain—
He was done.
The clans had only been easy to manipulate because of their naïveté. Their honesty had made them easy to deceive.
But now that these "barbarians" knew they'd been lied to?
His fate would be grim.
And sure enough, a second later, the video-Volo cleared his throat and—calm, articulate—began describing his entire plan from the beginning.
Watching his own recorded monologue, Volo's face drained of color.
No. If he stayed here, he might not die, but he'd be locked up for the rest of his miserable life.
But if he tried to run…
Even if he somehow managed to outrun these Hisuians—faster than Rapidash, half of them—Zoroark alone could end him in seconds.
Her gaze had been on him the whole time—cool, unreadable, and unmistakably predatory.
Like she was waiting for him to bolt.
Give her one excuse, and she'd tear him apart without a second thought.
By now, Volo was nearly in despair.
His only sliver of hope…
Was that Pokémon of the shadows—Giratina.
They had an arrangement.
And with its power, it had to sense he was in danger.
Maybe it was already on its way.
Just hang on, he told himself, feeling the hostile stares grow heavier. If Giratina shows up… things can still turn around.
Nearby, Elias cast a glance his way—cold and thoughtful.
He is Cynthia's ancestor. If I kill him now… would it affect her existence?
---
T/N: yeah... please dont make cynthia disappear...