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The wind screamed through the ruined street.
The high intensity battle between Pokémon had turned Nanth Town's slate paved road into wreckage.
Stone had been scorched black by fire. Other sections had been shattered outright by brute force.
Broken rubble rolled across the ground as dust choked the air.
Quark sat collapsed on the freezing stone, his face drained of all color. His hands trembled as they rested on Rapidash's battered body.
Its breathing was shallow. Its coat was matted with blood.
After taking Honchkrow's Brave Bird head-on, Rapidash had not died on the spot, but it had completely lost the ability to fight and fallen into deep unconsciousness.
Nearby, Roserade was in even worse condition.
With its high offense and fragile defenses, once Rapidash went down, it could not endure Honchkrow's onslaught for even a second.
Fran clutched Roserade tightly in her arms.
Tears streaked down her hollow eyes.
She was still barely more than a recent academy graduate.
Even with mission experience, this kind of absolute, hopeless situation shattered her composure.
She had not even thought to recall Roserade into its Poké Ball to stabilize its injuries.
She held it, as if letting go would mean losing it forever.
Tap. Tap.
Leather shoes struck the stone road.
Quark lifted his head instinctively, following the sound upward.
He froze.
The hood that had hidden the man's face had been blown aside by the earlier gale.
His features were now fully exposed.
A thin, gaunt face filled with exhaustion and malice.
Dry gray hair lay in tangled strands, lifeless like dead grass.
Dark circles weighed heavily beneath his eyes, and his dull gray pupils glinted with something diseased and unstable.
Familiar.
Uncomfortably familiar.
A vague sense of recognition surfaced in Quark's mind.
Then realization struck like a blade.
His pupils shrank violently.
Hatred and rage surged up, his voice trembling as it tore from his throat.
"Crowcaller."
"Wraith Circle."
He remembered now.
The man who had crushed them without effort was a notorious member of the dark organization Wraith Circle.
Crowcaller.
As a top graduate of the League Academy, Quark had memorized every major hostile faction long before taking official assignments.
In this broken era, the Pokémon League not only battled Nightmare Pokémon.
It also had to guard against threats born from humanity itself.
Human minds were complex.
Different pasts, environments, and losses shaped people in different ways.
The constant shadow of extinction created heroes willing to sacrifice everything.
But it created far more monsters.
Criminals. Extremists. Madmen.
Organizations that once hid in the underground during humanity's golden age now walked openly beneath the sun, exploiting the League's divided focus.
Wraith Circle was one of the largest among them.
Unlike other groups driven by pure chaos or obsession, their goal was disturbingly simple.
To overthrow the Pokémon League and become the sole ruling power of the continent.
That clarity made them disciplined. Dangerous. Efficient.
One of the League's greatest internal threats.
Quark had imagined encountering these people one day.
He just never expected it to happen like this.
Crowcaller had once been a League Enforcer from Hydra City, one of humanity's nine great metropolitan centers.
Now, he was a senior operative within Wraith Circle.
Gifted from a young age, cold and withdrawn by nature, he defected after a catastrophic incident during a past mission.
Because of his former position, his profile was well documented.
That was why Quark recognized him instantly.
Honchkrow stood nearby like a living shadow.
Its blood red eyes locked onto Quark, watching every twitch with predatory focus.
Crowcaller looked down at him.
A mocking smile crept across his pale face.
"This is what the League has been reduced to."
"Sending children out to die."
Quark clenched his fists and tried to stand.
"You."
But Honchkrow's presence crushed his resolve.
He slumped back down, bitterness and fury burning behind his eyes.
"So Nanth Town."
"This was your doing."
Crowcaller did not answer.
He simply stared at Quark with an expression so dark it seemed to freeze the air.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward.
Despite joining a criminal organization, he was still human.
And humans shared certain impulses.
Normally, he killed League operatives without hesitation.
But today was different.
He had just completed a difficult operation for Wraith Circle.
The urge to boast, to savor the moment, gnawed at him.
It was a classic criminal impulse.
After success comes indulgence.
The need to flaunt control.
That was why villains so often talked too much.
And Crowcaller, in this moment, was every bit a villain.
He licked his cracked lips and finally spoke.
"Kid."
"There are things the League will never tell you."
Madness flickered in his gray eyes.
A warped zeal bled into his voice.
"Our Wraith Circle."
Rip.
The sound of tearing flesh exploded through the air.
A long, dark purple hand burst through Crowcaller's chest from behind.
Hot blood sprayed outward, mixed with fragments of bone and tissue.
Crowcaller's eyes widened.
"Wraith Circle."
A deep, calm voice echoed across the battlefield.
It did not come from the air.
It resonated directly inside every mind present.
Crowcaller's body stiffened.
Then slowly went limp.
Behind him stood Kael.
Dark purple skin. Crimson eyes.
Aura pressure rolled outward like a silent tide.
He looked at the dying man with cold indifference.
"Is that your answer?"
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~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
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