Iris propped herself up on her elbow and, with great effort, rose to her feet.
Her breath came in harsh, ragged gasps, but her face was filled with stubborn defiance.
"Oh?"
Logan slowly turned his head, noticing that Axew, despite suffering so many blows, still had not fallen. Blood dripped from its mouth, yet just like its trainer, it forced itself upright, its little body trembling and swaying. Clearly, it had almost no strength left to fight.
"What a resilient Pokémon," Logan remarked. "To withstand so many attacks and still have the will to stand… that stubborn toughness, I'll acknowledge. But it changes nothing of the outcome."
He walked toward Zweilous, his hand gently stroking one of its heads.
"Give it the final blow, Zweilous. But be a little gentle—don't kill it. This is still only a match."
Both heads pressed affectionately against Logan's hand before opening their jaws wide, a low growl rumbling in their throats as they prepared to deliver the finishing strike.
Many in the crowd couldn't bear to watch any longer. Faces turned away, afraid to see the brutal end.
Up in the stands, Planteena covered her mouth with trembling fingers. Just as the earlier battle between Erika and Cynthia had shaken her heart, this battle shook her even more. If Erika and Cynthia's clash had revealed the cruelty of Trainers' duels, then Logan's fight laid bare an even harsher truth: in this world, the weak had no right to exist. Weakness itself was the greatest sin.
"This is what you just taught me!"
Iris, who had been kneeling to recover some strength, suddenly leapt up. With her last burst of energy, she flung out a Poké Ball.
"—Go, Dragonair! Use Dragon Breath!"
The crowd erupted.
"As expected of a girl from the Village of Dragons! She actually has a Dragonair, such a rare Pokémon!" the commentator cried out. "But… even with Dragonair, can she really stand against the Kanto Champion?"
Logan chuckled. "So it's Dragonair. A pampered girl indeed. To have such a rare Pokémon at such a young age, she must have been spoiled with gifts."
With her age, there was no way Iris could have captured a Dratini on her own. But in the Dragon's Den of Blackthorn City, rare dragon species still existed—few, but not extinct. Clearly, Iris had been granted the privilege of entering that sacred place and managed to capture one.
Yet Logan's mocking words conveniently ignored his own beginning. After all, his first partners when he set out had been Mewtwo and Gible. By comparison, wasn't he the most spoiled of all?
"Lesson three. The most important lesson today." Logan's tone hardened. "When facing an opponent whose strength eclipses your own, challenging them isn't courage. It's the height of foolishness."
"Dragonair—we'll use Dragon Breath too!"
At the same instant Iris sent hers forth, Logan released his own Dragonair with a flick of his wrist.
Though Iris's Dragonair attacked first, initiative wasn't everything. Against overwhelming strength, whether you moved first or second was meaningless.
A deafening roar split the air. Two blasts of Dragon Breath collided, searing heat bursting outward. The ground beneath them glowed red, bricks cracking as the very air warped from the rising temperature.
For a heartbeat, the clash seemed even. Then reality struck—Logan's Dragonair's power easily overran Iris's. The fiery breath of his dragon devoured hers and surged forward in a sweeping fan of burning light.
Iris threw her arms up to shield her face. The scorching winds lashed her body, burning her skin. Her Pokémon protected her from the brunt, but the pain still seared her flesh without mercy.
"Dragonairrrrrr—!!"
Iris's partner screamed in agony, its body charred black before crashing into the ground. The remains of Logan's Dragon Breath swept past Iris, smashing into the wall dozens of meters behind her, leaving a gaping crater. The stones beneath their feet turned to blackened ash.
"H-he reversed Dragon Breath itself… with just one strike…"
Iris collapsed to her knees, her eyes empty. Her already dark skin was now scorched darker still. Her fine jacket was riddled with holes, her headpiece dangling askew, and her once-proud hair reeked of burnt ends.
Too strong… far too strong. The difference was unfathomable. Both sides had Dragonair, the very same species. But it was precisely because they were the same that the immense gulf in power was undeniable.
Pain surged through her body like nothing she had ever known. Burns, bruises, blood—this was a battlefield unlike anything she had imagined. For the first time, Iris realized: Trainers in battle constantly risked their very lives. Her proud victories back home? They had been nothing more than children's games in the eyes of the strong.
Suddenly, one of the Poké Balls at her waist trembled. Before she could react, a Excadrill burst forth, roaring and slashing at the air—its eyes burning with the desire to fight Logan directly.
The commentator gasped. "Wait—only two Pokémon are allowed per match! Sending out a third is against the rules!"
Panicked, Iris shouted, "Excadrill, no! Come back! You're no match for him!"
This Excadrill had been her greatest ally, carrying her to many of those ninety-nine victories. Its pride was immense, and it had grown to believe itself unstoppable. Now, that pride blinded it to reality.
She hurled its Poké Ball, but Excadrill twisted away, refusing to return.
"Hah. You still have much to learn, dark-skinned girl," Logan sneered. "A Trainer's greatest disgrace is a disobedient Pokémon."
His eyes gleamed cruelly as he looked at her partner. "And don't think every Pokémon with 'dragon' in its name is truly a dragon. Don't tell me, black girl—you dropped out of school like Lance?"
He lifted his hand slowly, uncaring. "Forget the referee's ruling. It doesn't matter. One opponent, two, a hundred, two hundred—weaklings remain weaklings. Numbers mean nothing."
"Dragonair. Show this overconfident Excadrill reality. Fire Blast."
Logan's hand fell casually, and the ground itself erupted.
A blazing '大' of fire burst forth, like magma exploding from the earth's core. Orange light engulfed the ruined battlefield, searing the air itself.
The next instant, it was as if the earth had vomited centuries of buried flame all at once. The explosion shook heaven and earth, hurling chunks of the arena skyward in a storm of rubble.
The inferno blazed with a heat of thousands of degrees, painting the stadium blood-red. Faces glowed with its reflection, sweat streaming down from the sheer intensity.
At the center of the firestorm, only Logan and his Dragonair stood untouched. The flames curved away, as though terrified of their presence, leaving a perfect circle of emptiness around them.
--------------------
T/N:
Check out my Patreon
[email protected]/FictionalRealms784 - (Replace '@' with 'a')
for 5 Advanced Chapters absolutely FREE—or unlock 35 Advanced Chapters
--------------------