"Quick, Drew—healing magic! All of it, all of it, all of it!"
"Perry! Do you still have any healing potions left? I'll take every single one!"
"Knight of the Holy Light! I know your Church's healing arts are incredible—please, I'm begging you, help me! I'll owe you a huge favor!"
Before them lay the badly wounded, half-dead Rathian. Roger was on the verge of madness—not from despair, but from overwhelming excitement and heartbreak all at once.
The Poké Ball had actually caught the Rathian. He was now its master!
But he'd been one step too late. The Rathian had taken a direct hit from the Lightning Stake. It was barely clinging to life, and Roger was frantically begging everyone to heal it.
Drew and Perry didn't hesitate. As for the Knight of Holy Light—he frowned, but when Roger promised him a personal favor, he reluctantly stepped forward and began casting miracles to restore the dragon's life.
Even so, the Rathian still held a grudge. The moment the Knight came close, it bared its fangs and let out a threatening roar.
The Knight gritted his teeth, glaring back at the creature. His armor was blackened from the flames, and the sight of the damage clearly enraged him.
"I've never heard of a monster being tamed before," Stella murmured, eyes wide with curiosity, though she kept her distance.
"It's the effect of that strange spherical magic tool," Melga analyzed, her tone measured. "From what I observed, the orb must contain both spatial magic and some kind of mental manipulation enchantment. Not only can it seal a dragon into such a small vessel, but it also—"
Roger gently stroked the dragon's snout.
Instantly, the Rathian stopped growling and instead leaned into his hand, purring low and soft like a cat.
Melga paused, blinking. Then she muttered, "…This brainwashing is beyond absurd."
No—it wasn't brainwashing at all. Roger simply had a natural affinity with animals, bolstered by his own strength and willpower.
After all, if a trainer's level was too low, even a "Pokémon" (as Wade jokingly thought of them) would disobey.
Leon watched Roger and the dragon, his eyes gleaming with envy. He imagined how majestic it would look to command a lion-type monster himself. With his title, it would be the perfect match. The image made him quietly grin to himself.
Roger, meanwhile, couldn't look away from the Rathian. His heart was burning with countless thoughts.
Monsters—the very embodiment of madness. Low-intelligence ones were untamable, little more than rabid beasts. High-intelligence ones, like minotaurs, despised humans outright.
The only known method to "tame" them was through breeding—crossing monsters with normal animals over generations, slowly diluting their bloodline until docile hybrids emerged.
That was how war-steeds like Pegasi came to be, how the Royal Knights bred their griffins, how giant beetles were domesticated for transport—all through that long, painstaking process.
But compared to their wild counterparts, those creatures were far weaker.
Brainwashing magic could force obedience temporarily, but it could never create true loyalty. Never a bond.
Yet Roger knew—the affection the Rathian now showed wasn't from manipulation. It was real. Genuine. The dragon saw him as its master and partner.
He didn't know why he was so certain. Perhaps it was instinct—something deeper, that mythical connection between trainer and creature.
But one thing was clear—
The Poké Ball had shattered the age-old belief that "monsters cannot be tamed."
When he appeared in public with the Rathian at his side, it would shake the world. A new age of monster taming would dawn.
And the key to it all? The Poké Ball.
Roger couldn't help recalling where he'd found that strange orb. He swore he'd return there to seek more of them.
"Heh-heh… the old fossils at the Association won't know what hit them."
A rare, genuine smile spread across his face.
Roger had always loved animals.
As a child, he'd once come across a young Windbird—injured, grounded, and chased by hunting dogs.
He'd rescued and nursed it back to health. At first, it pecked his fingers with its frail beak, but over time, it began to nestle against his chest as he slept, and perched proudly on his shoulder during the day.
Man and beast had become true companions.
But one day, the Windbird disappeared. It never came back.
Roger had been heartbroken, yet the experience planted a seed within him: monsters could be friends, too.
During his years at the Mage Association's academy, Roger constantly questioned the doctrine that "monsters cannot be tamed." He wrote essays, gave lectures, all driven by that dream of friendship between man and beast. He truly believed his childhood experience wasn't a one-time miracle.
Until one day, during a public speech, his mentor interrupted him—humiliating him before everyone.
All his research papers were thrown into a brazier and burned to ash before his eyes.
"Monsters are monsters," his mentor had said coldly. "They will never be mankind's companions. If you have the ability, prove it! Show me a monster that chooses to stay by your side. Use any magic tool you want. If you can't… then stop spouting nonsense."
Since that day, Roger had fallen silent—not from fear, but because he was searching. Searching for that one monster who would prove the world wrong.
But the miracle of his childhood never returned.
The Windbird's kin attacked him on sight. As the years went by, doubt set in. Had he imagined it all? Was his conviction just childish delusion?
By middle age, he had nearly given up.
But the Rathian—and the Poké Ball—reignited that fading flame in his heart.
I'll stay near Sein Dungeon until I uncover the secret behind this orb. When that time comes…
"Heh-heh-heh…" Roger chuckled darkly, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Maybe it's time I cleaned up a bit. Shave, maybe. Got to look the part."
"Rawr?" The Rathian tilted its head, then spat out a glowing mote of light.
Roger caught it in his hand—it solidified into a ring. At once, information poured into his mind.
[Chloranthy Ring – Replica]
[Slightly boosts stamina.
Can also be used to open a certain door.]
"Huh? Why does this sound exactly like the ring I got earlier?" Maru pulled out her Ring of Favor. Both rings had the same final line: Can be used to open a certain door.
She and Roger exchanged glances.
Could it be… these rings were keys to the next floor?
What were the odds?
"Sometimes," she muttered, "coincidences do happen."
(***)
The Lord's Chamber.
Wade watched the adventurers' reactions through his screen, amusement glinting in his eyes. He was very pleased.
Not long ago, he'd made a change to the mid-level design.
In Undead Burg, a stone gate led deep into the Great Hollow. It could only be opened with two rings—one guarded by the Guardian Ape, the other by the Zinogre.
His modification was simple: once adventurers obtained one ring, the second could randomly transfer to a nearby flying elite monster. That monster would actively seek them out. If they won, they'd acquire the second ring quickly. If they lost—well, better luck next time.
The purpose was clear: to give strong adventurers a shortcut.
Watching them grind the same map repeatedly was tedious. Those capable of obtaining both rings this way were skilled enough not to be caught by minor traps. Better to save time and send them deeper into the more dangerous levels sooner.
"This team might actually clear the dungeon…" Wade mused aloud, leaning back in his chair. A grin tugged at his lips. "Guess I'd better start planning the clear rewards."
The walkthrough was about to speed up.