The girl standing before them looked entirely out of place in Erika's tranquil courtyard. She wore nothing but a simple long-sleeved shirt and cropped pants, her appearance clashing with the refined atmosphere. Her eyes shone with excitement, her posture bold and unrestrained—like some wild creature forcing its way into a civilized garden.
"What a rude, ill-mannered girl… and so sloppily dressed, too."
Planteena muttered under her breath, clearly unimpressed by the dark-skinned intruder.
Unfortunately for her, the girl's ears were sharp. She caught every word.
"And who do you think you are? Just another pampered princess who doesn't know a thing about the real world!" the girl shot back, hands on her hips, lips curled into a mocking smirk.
"Hmph. Before demanding someone else's name, shouldn't you introduce yourself first?"
Planteena straightened, her tone icy but commanding, the bearing of a noblewoman radiating off her as she glared at the intruder.
Logan found the contrast amusing and chose not to intervene. One was brash and wild, the other elegant and reserved. Two girls as opposite as night and day, fated to clash at first sight.
"Ahem, that was my mistake," the dark-skinned girl admitted, coughing lightly into her hand before puffing out her chest. "My name's Iris. Now it's your turn."
"…Servants have no right to know my name."
Planteena closed her eyes and folded her hands delicately in front of her, her posture refined and elegant. It reminded Logan faintly of Erika—perhaps every noble daughter was trained this way.
But even as the words left her lips, Planteena faltered inwardly. She remembered how at the airport, saying something similar had drawn scolding glares from everyone and even forced her father to bow in apology. For a moment, her heart pounded with doubt, silently cursing her butler, Sebastian, for teaching her such lines.
Yet this time, to her surprise, neither Logan nor Erika reproached her. In fact, Logan was watching her with clear approval in his eyes. Catching that, Planteena's chest tightened with a sudden, giddy delight.
Finally… I did something right. Finally, no scolding!
Erika, meanwhile, didn't speak, but the curve of her lips betrayed her own feelings. She too was pleased. Though she wouldn't openly scold Iris, a girl who had barged into her home uninvited, she certainly didn't like her either—especially not when this wild child had brazenly declared she wanted to challenge Logan!
But where Erika and Logan praised Planteena, Iris only pouted in frustration. She puffed out her cheeks, muttering under her breath:
"Unbelievable… you're such a liar."
The wild girl who moments ago had radiated boundless energy now squirmed awkwardly, all her bravado collapsing in on itself.
"Hey, you little runaway from Africa—don't you know breaking into someone's private property is a crime?"
Logan spoke up, his words dripping with teasing malice.
And truthfully, Iris did look a little like a refugee. Petite, skinny, her dark skin gave her a foreign air, and her clothes—plain and outdated—stood in stark contrast to Erika's lavish kimono or Planteena's chic designer dress. Side by side, Iris looked every bit the country bumpkin.
The thought made Logan's eyes drift for a moment to Yellow. That girl was a country bumpkin too, wasn't she? No matter how much he tried to teach her, her sense of style never improved.
Still, rustic or not, both girls had their own unique charms. Yellow's innocence and Iris's wild spirit—beauty took many forms. The only question was whether one had the eyes to see it.
"I'm not from Africa!" Iris huffed indignantly. "I'm Iris from the Village of Dragons!"
"The Village of Dragons… you mean Blackthorn City?" Logan narrowed his eyes.
In the whole world, only one place was known as the true homeland of dragons: Blackthorn City. Founded by those who inherited the mysterious Dragon Master's gift, it was both sanctuary and graveyard. The elderly and abandoned dragons returned there to rest, while younger ones underwent trials in its Dragon's Den.
Just as Erika's family was rooted in Celadon City, Blackthorn had grown entirely around the Dragon Clan. There, dragons reigned supreme, and every child grew up chasing them.
"Yes, that's right! Blackthorn City!" Iris nodded eagerly.
[ Iris is from Opelucid city in Unova,She had trained in Blackthorn City in Johto]
Logan studied her carefully, his brow furrowing. Her name didn't sound native to Kanto at all—more like something from Hoenn, Sinnoh, or Unova. Likely her ancestors had migrated.
"So… you know Lance, then?" Logan asked.
"Of course! Everyone in Blackthorn knows him—and you! My parents told me that by blood, Lance is kind of like my distant cousin."
"Well, isn't that something…" Logan chuckled softly.
It wasn't surprising. Blackthorn's people worshipped dragons and revered anyone who could command them. Even though Logan wasn't born there, his mastery of dragons had made him one of their own in spirit.
In truth, the essence of the Dragon Clan wasn't blood, but the gift known as the Dragon's Power. Only he and Lance truly carried it now.
As for Iris's supposed relation to Lance… Logan smirked inwardly. After so many generations, practically everyone in Blackthorn was related in some way. Lance's father had even defied tradition, marrying a woman from Viridian instead of someone from the city.
"All the children in the Village of Dragons look up to you and Lance," Iris declared proudly, her eyes blazing with determination. "I'm going to be a Dragon Master too! I've already won ninety-nine battles back home, and now I've come here for my hundredth! My opponent… the Champion of Kanto, the Dragon Master—Logan!"
The fire in her gaze was so intense that even Planteena, watching from the side, felt her heart stir. She couldn't even bring herself to sneer. How could anyone mock a girl so earnestly chasing her dream?
But Logan only shook his head.
"You're reaching too high too soon, Iris. If you really want to grow, your next step should be to challenge the Gym Leader of Blackthorn—Clair, wasn't it? I think she's Lance's cousin. Hah, don't expect me to call her 'big sister' though."
He shrugged, his tone light but firm. Her so-called ninety-nine victories probably amounted to children's games. He admired her spirit, but facing him now would crush her. And he wasn't eager to destroy the budding hope of Blackthorn's youth.
"I won't lose! Axew and I are strong enough to face you! If you're truly a Dragon Master, then accept my challenge!"
Her small fists clenched, her voice rang like steel.
"Big brother… she seems really serious about this."
Yellow tugged at Logan's sleeve, her wide eyes full of pleading, clearly hoping he'd agree.
"You soft-hearted little girl." Logan chuckled, ruffling her hair. After a pause, he said, "Dragon Master, huh? That's the first time I've heard anyone call me that. Fine. If you insist, I'll give you a chance. In two days, Rainbow University will be holding a special performance tournament. If you can pass the preliminaries and earn the right to face me, I won't refuse. But if you can't even get through the prelims, you'd better go back home."
"Fine! I'll pass the prelims for sure—you'll see!"
Iris's voice rang with conviction, her confidence unshakable.
"Your energy is admirable," Logan said softly, "but… your poor Pokémon. Facing an opponent leagues above you could crush its spirit completely."
He shook his head with a wry smile.
If she wouldn't listen to reason, then so be it. He'd just have to show her reality—and break her spirit the hard way.
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