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Brilliant golden lightning lashed wildly through the air, releasing its terrifying power without restraint.
Steel-hard black feathers were scorched instantly under the electrical assault.
Bone beneath torn flesh shattered under overwhelming force.
Organs were pulped by the violent impact, crimson blood mixed with pale fragments bursting from the skull and splattering across the ground.
Honchkrow was still consumed by blind rage, unable to comprehend what had happened.
In the next instant, it lost consciousness amid the blinding storm of electricity.
Bang!
The massive black body was blasted backward at nearly the same speed it had charged in with, crashing heavily onto the street and rolling to a lifeless stop.
Crowcaller had been a senior operative of Wraith Circle.
His partner Pokémon was never weak.
Under normal circumstances, with its Trainer directing it, Honchkrow would not have gone down so easily.
Kael would have needed time and effort to defeat it.
But Crowcaller could barely breathe, let alone give commands.
And Honchkrow, driven mad by guilt and fury over its Trainer's injury, had completely lost rational control.
It attacked blindly, pouring out its power without strategy or restraint.
Faced with that kind of reckless assault, Kael exploiting elemental advantage with Thunder Punch to end the fight in one blow was only natural.
Whether in humanity's golden age or this era of darkness, a Trainer's presence almost always made a decisive difference.
A wild Pokémon raised in the wilderness and a Pokémon carefully trained by a human existed on entirely different levels.
And even among trained Pokémon, the absence of real-time command caused a dramatic drop in combat effectiveness.
Most Pokémon possessed intelligence comparable to humans, but instinct and wild impulse still lingered beneath the surface.
Strong emotions amplified that instinct.
When anger or fear took over, judgment suffered.
If put into simple human terms, it was losing one's head.
In high-level combat, where even the smallest mistake could mean death, that loss of control was fatal.
That was one of the core reasons Trainers existed.
Reading a Pokémon's emotional state.
Issuing commands suited to the battlefield.
Remaining calm and offering mental support.
Those qualities defined a great Trainer.
Honchkrow's fate was proof of what happened without them.
And it paid the ultimate price.
Kael flicked his right hand lightly, dispersing the last strands of electricity still clinging to his fingers.
He did not spare a glance at Honchkrow's corpse.
Nor did he concern himself with Quark, Fran, and the others who had lost consciousness from the shockwaves and lingering pressure.
Instead, he crouched and looked down at Crowcaller.
The man lay on the ground, both hands pressed desperately against the gaping wound in his chest.
Crimson eyes burned with cold brutality.
Just one look was enough to plunge the dying man into despair.
"Tell me about Wraith Circle."
Kael's voice was calm.
It echoed directly inside Crowcaller's mind through Aura.
Blood bubbled up from Crowcaller's mouth as he struggled to focus.
He forced his eyes open and stared at Kael.
A twisted smile crept across his lips.
"Machop, Machoke."
"You're the one who escaped from Dar's place."
"Gik mentioned you."
Kael frowned slightly but did not respond.
A faint wisp of Ghost-type energy gathered at the tip of his right index finger.
He reached out and gently tapped Crowcaller's forehead.
The scream that followed was inhuman.
Crowcaller convulsed violently, body arching as if struck by lightning.
Cold sweat poured from every pore, soaking his already pale face.
His scream echoed down the ruined street.
"I'll ask again."
"How much do you know about Wraith Circle?"
Kael's voice sounded like a demon whispering from the depths of hell.
Thick killing intent saturated the air, sharp as a blade pressed against Crowcaller's throat.
It was a simple application of Ghost type energy.
By channeling intense negative emotion directly into the mind, it inflicted unbearable agony without worsening physical injuries.
A method of torture that attacked the soul itself.
This was the first time Kael had used it on a living being.
He did not regret it.
For people who slaughtered innocent humans and Pokémon without hesitation, no punishment was excessive.
After a long while, Crowcaller finally dragged himself back from the edge of pain.
"Hah. Hah."
He gasped as if something invisible were choking him.
Blood smeared his lips as his dark gray eyes locked onto Kael.
His mouth trembled violently.
Then, suddenly, he laughed.
A hoarse, broken laugh that sounded like a crow's cry.
"You."
"They."
"Everything."
"All of it will be swallowed by the shadow of the wraith."
His dead gray hair hung messily over his face, madness twisting his features.
His voice was filled with hysteria.
A faint sigh drifted through the air.
"So you won't talk."
Slash.
A sharp sound cut through the street.
With a dull, wet crack of bone and flesh, the manic laughter stopped abruptly.
Kael rose to his feet, casually flicking the sticky blood from his fingers.
He turned his gaze toward Quark and the others lying unconscious nearby.
From the madness in Crowcaller's eyes, Kael already knew the truth.
The man had been completely brainwashed.
There was nothing more to extract from him.
Now, the only hope for information lay with the survivors.
And Kael intended to ask them everything they knew.
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~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
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