The mont Hisuian Samurott entered the battlefield, its eyes locked onto Ceruledge with a gleam of excitent.
Perhaps it was the intuition of a swordsman—Hisuian Samurott was utterly convinced that the opponent before it was a master of the blade. A worthy rival.
“Rrr…”
Letting out an eager challenge, Hisuian Samurott’s gaze burned as it stared down Ceruledge.
Yet Ceruledge rely gave it a passing glance, saying nothing. The aura that had been slightly disturbed from its earlier clash with Serperior had already cald again.
Idiot.
Even though Ceruledge didn’t speak, the disdain in its eyes was more than clear.
Who told you I was so kind of swordsman?
Just because I carry swords, that makes a swordmaster?
Why can’t I be an assassin?
Ceruledge never considered itself a swordsman. It didn’t have that kind of skill, honestly.
It was just an ordinary Pokémon. No lofty pride, no honor to uphold as a swordsman.
As long as it could win, that was enough.
Standing with its weapons raised, Ceruledge began to rethink its battle strategy.
Since this guy’s going on about “the dignity of a swordsman,” maybe that could be used against him?
Like challenging him to a pure duel of swordsmanship in the na of honor, then launching a sneak attack or sothing.
That’d probably be pretty effective.
But…
Ceruledge slightly tilted its head and glanced back at Natsu and the crowd watching from the sidelines.
Right now, it was representing the image of the gym—this was only the first, no, the second match of the grand opening.
Its fighting style could be cunning, could be unpredictable—but it absolutely couldn’t be too underhanded.
Otherwise, the gym’s reputation online might beco: “Oh, that’s the gym that loves cheap tricks.”
That wouldn’t be good for the gym’s long-term future.
That’s what Big Sis w had said.
What else did she say again?
Sothing like: “Make sure you look cool while you fight—show off a little if you can.”
Yeah, not that it fully understood what that ant.
But if Big Sis w said so, she must have had her reasons.
As the little brother, all Ceruledge had to do was listen and obey.
So, it adjusted its stance and battle plan slightly.
A cold, bluish-violet fla suddenly ignited, enveloping the twin translucent blades ford from pure energy.
The soft, flickering firelight danced across Ceruledge’s face, casting large, shifting shadows over its calm expression.
Already aloof and imposing by appearance, Ceruledge now seed like a dark warrior straight out of a fantasy tale.
If soone captured this mont on cara and uploaded it online, it might just beco a classic profile pic.
The kind middle schoolers loved—edgy ani characters with a brooding, tortured aura.
And in fact, soone did take a photo.
Who knows? Ceruledge’s face might soon be trending online.
Clang!
Seeing Ceruledge enter its battle stance, Hisuian Samurott—who had been sulking from that earlier look of contempt—suddenly perked up again.
Then, a beat later, it realized it had gotten too excited and quickly tried to regain its composure.
It gave a slight cough and straightened its posture, putting on a prideful front.
Yeah, this kid had always looked up to those lone wandering swordsn from a young age.
It constantly tried to mimic them.
The way it fought, the way it lived—even the little habits in how it spoke.
Anything it could imitate, it did.
It even insisted on sleeping sitting upright in a corner like so penitent warrior monk.
It had fully leaned into its “chūnibyō swordsman” persona.
Even after evolving, though it looked more stately and reliable on the outside, i and the others knew better.
This guy only looked reliable.
In truth, he wasn’t even as steady as Corviknight.
You could say his appearance was very misleading.
Shing!
Thrilled, Hisuian Samurott gripped the hard, armor-like sheath on its foreleg and drew it with a flourish.
That was the Razor Shell—a sword made from its own body.
The lower half of the gauntlet ford the scabbard, while the upper section and the horn acted as hilt and blade.
The Pokédex had once described how the armor of Samurott’s forelegs evolved into massive swords. It had mastered the art of drawing them with lightning speed, striking before the enemy could even blink.
Every Samurott held a near-fanatical obsession with swordsmanship.
They were like the “royal sword saints” you’d often see in ani or fantasy novels—noble and proud, always fighting with honor.
Which made them a stark contrast to Ceruledge.
One fought fair and square; the other would do anything to win.
Maybe if it were a Hisuian Samurott from Hisui, it and Ceruledge would have had more in common.
The mont Samurott unsheathed its blades, the battle began.
Neither of them was especially fast.
But when two fighters rushed toward each other, it only took an instant for their swords to clash.
Blades wreathed in pale fla collided with the Razor Shell, exploding into a burst of blinding sparks.
Through their crossed swords, the two Pokémon silently locked eyes.
Then, in the blink of an eye, all four blades tore apart and clashed again midair in a dazzling flurry.
Samurott’s attacks flowed like water—endless, fluid. Then suddenly shifted into a ferocious storm of strikes.
It fought like a grandmaster—effortlessly unleashing its years of sword training.
Ceruledge, anwhile, responded with icy calm, always finding that one opening amidst the relentless onslaught to slip in a cut.
In terms of swordsmanship, Ceruledge was clearly inferior.
That couldn’t be helped.
Samurott had practiced swordplay since it was just an Oshawott, fighting with its shells since the very beginning.
Ceruledge, on the other hand, had only started using blades after evolving.
It never had much interest in swords, had never even touched them before.
Now it wielded them only because, well… its arms had beco swords.
That it could hold its own at all against Samurott—it figured—was thanks to its slightly faster speed and the teachings it’d received from all the “veterans” on the farm.
Yes, the many, many veterans.
On the farm, Ceruledge felt like a child raised by a whole village.
Officially, Big Sis w was its teacher.
But everyone knew how w was—she never stuck to one task for too long.
So more often than not, the two little Charcadets were passed around to train with whoever was free.
Slowking, shiny Furret, Cursola… even those senior Pokémon helped out.
After evolving, maybe because of its new twin blades, even Gallade—who usually lazed around—took an interest and trained it for a while.
That period really helped Ceruledge grow.
In terms of offensive tempo, Samurott was nowhere near as sharp as Gallade.
Seizing another brief opening, Ceruledge slashed across Samurott’s body and quickly pulled back.
Still, it had to admit—Samurott was putting serious pressure on it.
Aqua Cutter. Razor Shell. Sacred Sword. Shell Blade.
Every blade-based move seed second nature in Samurott’s hands, all woven into its seamless battle style.
In that respect, it had co much farther than Ceruledge.
And as it fought, Ceruledge began to glimpse a possible path for its own growth.
It shook its head slightly, brushing away the flood of thoughts.
Then raised its twin blades once more.
Rushing to blindly imitate soone else’s tactics just because they seed effective is a foolish move.
Today you see soone using pure swordsmanship to overwhelm their opponent. Tomorrow, soone else blends sword techniques with skills to secure victory. The day after, it’s soone blasting their way to the top with a barrage of abilities.
Are you going to try to copy them all?
You’ll end up a jumbled ss, good at nothing.
What you should do isn't rushing to imitate them, but rather going back and seriously thinking about where your own battle style should head. Only then can you decide the right direction for your growth.
Boom!
An intense blaze erupted, no longer the calm, steady flas from before—it now boiled like a pot of scalding water.
Just looking at it stirred a sense of blazing determination.
As if this fire was the very embodint of its inner fighting spirit.
Staring into the roaring flas ahead, Samurott’s eyes blazed even hotter than the fire itself.
It lowered its head slightly, a blinding white light gathering at the tip of its horn.
For a mont, firelight and the stark glow of its skill divided the battlefield into two burning halves.
Fwoosh!
At a certain mont, the flas surrounding Ceruledge vanished abruptly, leaving only a few flickering embers trembling in the wind atop its blades.
And in the very next second, a slash wreathed in flas and a teor-like horn strike exploded against each other.
The mont they realized it, the two had already collided.
A massive shockwave burst forth, spiderweb cracks sprawling across the ground.
Both sides locked eyes, neither giving an inch.
Neither Sacred Sword nor gahorn could break through the other’s assault to leave a solid hit.
This stalemate dragged on for four or five seconds, until—
Shhk!
Samurott’s previously fired-up expression froze, its head drooping slightly.
Its shadow, which should’ve been formless and flat, stretched out unnaturally behind it… and struck at the crucial mont.
A mont later, violet-blue flas surged forth, engulfing Samurott entirely.
A storm of ghostly fire raged across the battlefield, only gradually fading after several seconds.
Ceruledge sheathed its dual blades, tilting its head to look at the scorched and motionless Samurott lying on the ground.
I told you—I’m not a swordsman.
Did you really think I’d get all fired up and play along with your little sword duel?
With a small, bored shake of its head, Ceruledge turned and walked back toward Natsu.
Not a bad fight… just a sha the opponent wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.
“You did great, Ceruledge.”
Natsu smiled as he spoke to the fire/ghost-type who looked just as calm and indifferent as if the battle had never happened.
Maybe Ceruledge was well-suited to handling gym challengers over the long run.
It didn’t have any real enthusiasm for the task—but it didn’t hate it either. It just treated it like another day at the office.
People who throw themselves into sothing just because they’re briefly passionate about it usually end up giving up once that excitent fades.
Ceruledge shook its head: I wasn’t tired at all.
A grass snake that got knocked out with two punches from a Swampert and a sword-cosplaying simpleton with no brain?
This wasn’t even close to the intensity of training with that shiny Furret.
It all cos down to discipline.
Back when it was still a humble Charcadet, it didn’t learn many powerful moves, nor did it suddenly beco strong.
But consistent training had definitely hardened its will.
That was why, now that it had evolved, it wasn’t getting carried away or losing control of its power from the thrill of it all.
That would’ve been downright stupid.
“Samurott is unable to battle!”
“With all three of the challenger’s Pokémon unable to continue, the winner of this gym battle is Gym Leader Natsu!”
After checking on Samurott and confirming it had well and truly passed out—with no surprise cobacks via dramatic sit-ups—the referee waved his little flag and made the official call.
In a world where love and bonds between trainers and Pokémon are deeply valued…
Miracles do happen.
There are always so Pokémon who push past their limits, who stand up again and again no matter how many tis they’re knocked down, all because of that bond.
And if you call the match too early, only for a Pokémon in the middle of a coback mont to be unjustly declared the loser…
Oh, the internet will have your head.
That’s an express elevator to public shaming—with a side of tasers.
By then, you can forget about your career.
You’d better worry about whether the online crowd is going to revoke your human status.
Might even have so emotionally-charged netizens manually boot you out of the biosphere.
“Thanks for your hard work, Samurott. You did great.”
As she recalled her Samurott, i gave a faint, wry smile.
Ah, lost again.
As expected, Natsu was just too strong.
He always says he’s not suited to being a trainer, but seriously—if he’s not qualified, then who is?
After the battle, the fierce fighting spirit i had carried faded, and her usual adorable self returned.
To be honest, when she first lost to Natsu, she’d felt a bit indignant.
She thought that if she worked hard enough, she could catch up.
But the more they battled, the more she lost—until eventually she just accepted reality and gave up resisting.
At this point, losing to Natsu just felt… natural.
i couldn’t even imagine herself beating him anymore.
Which was kind of a bumr, honestly.
“i.”
Having returned Ceruledge to its ball, Natsu walked over from the side of the battlefield.
Seeing that i hadn’t fallen into a slump after her loss, he smiled faintly.
She used to dwell on her defeats for a long ti.
This was a kind of progress, too, wasn’t it?
After all, no one wins every single battle.
Well—except for Natsu.
So far, he’d only lost once.
That was in the farm’s eating contest, where he bombed spectacularly.
Eliminated early, he could only sit and watch as Corviknight and a transford w (posing as a Snorlax) went at it, devouring everything in sight.
Natsu had a sneaking suspicion that the two of them weren’t even competing for first place.
They were just showing off their eating skills.
As if they were trying to tell him he’d been starving them all this ti.
“You did well. As a Gym Leader, I acknowledge your strength.”
“Here’s your badge.”
He pulled a small box from his pocket, and inside it lay a gleaming gym badge.
Even though i technically lost the battle, Natsu still recognized her strength.
If he really only gave out badges to those who beat him, his gym’s difficulty rating would shoot straight into the stratosphere.
Of course, i’s strength wasn’t the only reason he awarded her the badge.
To be honest, Natsu wasn’t the “strict and impartial” type of person.
At least, that’s how he saw himself.
And none of the spectators had any objections to i receiving a badge despite her loss.
They’d seen her performance. They knew how strong she was.
For soone so young, achieving this level was already incredible.
Granted, she still wasn’t in Natsu’s league.
He had long since surpassed his peers.
While others were still comparing how many gyms they’d cleared or how many badges they had, Natsu had skipped right past all of that and beco a Gym Leader himself.
That’s a goal many people would never reach even in their entire lives.
In fact, the Jadeleaf League had extrely strict standards for Gym Leaders.
Both strength and character were non-negotiable.
If you lacked strength, you'd just beco a badge dispenser—nothing more than a mascot for others to step on.
And if you had power but no character, you'd turn into the kind of jerk who bullied rookie trainers for fun.
Both outcos would tarnish the League’s reputation.
Of course, that didn’t an Gym Leaders were expected to be punching bags who never fought back or talked back.
When necessary, they had to show backbone. And when questioned, they had to prove themselves with results.
That’s why every Gym Leader in the Jadeleaf League t at least the baseline for both strength and integrity.
Granted, that was by Jadeleaf standards.
Everyone knows: aside from its vast land and abundant resources, Jadeleaf is also famous for having an absurd number of trainers.
And let’s not forget its… enthusiastic martial spirit.
So might think, “But isn’t Jadeleaf known for its love of peace?”
Sure, but here’s a question: If you had to battle either a team of Trainers from Kanto or one from Unova… who would you pick?
Most people would seriously consider it before answering.
And a few would ask, “Can’t I take on both?”
The truth is, the spirit of combat runs deep in the bones here.
Most just keep it under control.
And now that there’s Pokémon battling, that inner desire for combat has found the perfect outlet.
In a place this brimming with martial energy, being a Gym Leader takes more than just strength.
You’ve gotta be really good at fighting if you want the people to respect you.
So say that Gym Leaders from the Jadeleaf League could easily qualify as Elite Four mbers—or even Champions—in other countries.
And among the Gym Leaders of the Jadeleaf League, Natsu was already in a league of his own, far surpassing his peers.
There are always so geniuses who defy age as a tric.
“Thank you, Leader Natsu! I’ll keep working hard from here!”
i took the hard-earned badge with both hands, speaking with heartfelt sincerity.
To her, this badge had been harder to win than any of her previous ones.
There had been no visible hope of victory—everything relied purely on theory.
In theory, as long as you dodged every attack perfectly, you could win.
In theory, if you kept the right distance, you could take down your opponent.
In theory...
It was all in theory.
As everyone knows, anything that only works in theory might as well not work at all.
Just like how things that “shouldn’t work in principle” sohow always end up working.
“Keep at it.”
Natsu murmured softly, before shifting into the usual scripted remarks expected after a gym match.
Then ca the routine press Q&A session with a few on-site reporters, as customary after the first gym battle of the day.
These were all arranged by the Jadeleaf League’s PR team—no tough or tricky questions.
All Natsu had to do was stick to the prepared script and give so generic, repeatable answers.
Nothing groundbreaking, but nothing risky either.
Sotis, not screwing up is already a major accomplishnt.
Watching Natsu’s figure as he turned away, i gently held the badge in her hand.
She’d even seen the design drafts for this badge—had offered her own suggestions, too.
Strictly speaking, that made her one of the badge’s designers, didn’t it?
Now that she held the real thing, she couldn’t help feeling a little excited.
Look! I helped design this badge!
i had the urge to brag in the class group chat.
But after thinking it over, she decided against it.
After all, she'd only made a few minor suggestions—it wasn’t really anything worth showing off.
This badge was the result of Natsu and female Indeedee’s hard work. She had no right to steal their thunder.
(Natsu: Honestly, if you just said it was Indeedee’s work, that’s fine too.)
Still, i snapped a photo of the badge and casually sent it to the high school class group chat.
At that mont, a bunch of classmates were busy bragging about their travel adventures.
One of them—identity still unclear—was already going off about their mysterious “connections” to an Elite Four mber.
The mont i’s photo dropped, it stirred up a whole new wave of discussion.
Clearly, everyone was already fed up with that poser.
Co on, we all went to the sa school, sa class. Who are you trying to fool?
If you’re really that good, why are you even in the sa classroom as us? And still copying my howork?
Kinda ridiculous, honestly.
i responded briefly to a few friends she was close to, then stopped paying attention to the chat.
Carefully storing the badge in her badge case, she gave her little bag a satisfied pat.
This was, after all, the very first badge awarded by the youngest Gym Leader.
It had to be worth sothing soday—maybe even a collector’s item. Who knows? If she ever fell on hard tis, she might be able to sell it for a hefty price.
She chuckled inwardly at her own joke.
The loss in today’s battle hadn’t upset i much.
Like she’d told herself before—aim to win one, push for two, and survive the full match. That was enough.
And she’d t her goal.
After taking down the Swampert, she’d forced out the Ceruledge.
Even though the Ceruledge went on to beat two of her Pokémon, it wasn’t a one-sided slaughter.
It was more that she lacked the right intel to fight effectively.
Still, i was content.
If anything, she felt a little regretful—her knowledge base clearly needed expanding.
She’d have to put in more ti studying later.
Being a Trainer ant being a lifelong learner.
New Pokémon were discovered every year. New tactics and techniques erged all the ti.
You didn’t have to be a scholar, but any top-tier Trainer needed to be able to read a research paper or two.
The old-school, brainless brawler types still existed—but barely. They were basically extinct.
Because if you didn’t have the smarts to properly care for and train your Pokémon, how could you create a scientific and effective training plan for them?
What, leave it all to soone else?
Then what’s the point of being a Trainer?
Before long, Natsu had wrapped up the reporter Q&A.
As expected, all the questions had been pre-approved, and that was a relief.
The last thing he wanted was to slip up and say sothing that could blow up later.
After that, Natsu faced two more challengers.
Unlike earlier, this ti he fought with noticeably more aggression.
Right from the start, he led with Armarouge and unleashed brutal offense.
Due to his childhood love for a certain red knight from a show, Natsu had a soft spot for Armarouge.
That red-armored knight had just looked so cool back then.
And honestly, he liked the na “Armarouge” more than “Gallantmon.”
Natsu’s training plan for Armarouge was simple:
More firepower. More stamina. More defense.
No need for fancy tricks—just keep stacking the core stats.
All the resources it needed, it would get. Its job was just to get stronger.
Higher fla temperature. Faster, sharper execution. Perfect skill mastery.
With the Fire/Psychic typing, Armarouge not only hit hard, it could protect itself too.
Moves like Reflect and Psychic could offer strong support, helping Armarouge handle various opponents with ease.
Trick Room kept sneaky assassins like Weavile from rushing it down.
That said, Armarouge’s defenses were solid already. It wasn’t a glass cannon.
You could tell just by looking at its heavy armor.
If so squishy assassin-type tried a face dive, they’d probably end up realizing too late that they couldn’t even scratch Armarouge.
Watching Armarouge in battle, the only word that ca to mind was “smooth.”
There was no hesitation—every move was seamless.
At the start of the battle, its shoulder guards slid down to its wrists, transforming its arms into cannon-like weapons.
Then ca the performance.
If Ceruledge fought with water-tight swordsmanship and “tricky” techniques...
Armarouge’s battles were a dazzling bullet hell.
It opened with a Scorching Sands to burn any Berries off the opponent.
Then ca Mystical Fire, Fire Spin, Flathrower, Fire Blast—one after another.
Occasionally spiced up with Acid Bombs and Shadow Balls.
Armarouge’s movepool was frankly excellent.
It had strong coverage and solid moves across multiple types.
Perfectly in tune with its base stats.
Even the so-called “One and Only King” nearby would be crying in envy—tears of jealousy pouring from his mouth.
After the barrage, the battle ended with a massive Armor Cannon.
Armor Cannon was Armarouge’s signature move—just like Bitter Blade was for Ceruledge.
Armor Cannon had a base power of 120, but lowered the user’s Defense and Sp. Def after use.
Bitter Blade was weaker at 90 power, but healed half the damage dealt.
Basically, it was a lifesteal sword.
Sure, Armor Cannon had drawbacks—but with that kind of power, who cared?
It was ant to finish the fight anyway. Once the opponent was down, what did it matter if your defenses dropped?
After defeating two of the challenger’s Pokémon with Armarouge, Natsu sent out his shiny Furret for the last round—a more even fight.
It gave the challenger a bit of dignity, and helped them calm down after the crushing first round.
Maybe it’s not that I’m bad... It’s that Leader Natsu is just way too strong.
Watching the flashy back-and-forth between their partner and the shiny Furret, the challenger let out a quiet sigh and focused back on the match.
At the very least, I should finish this battle properly. My Pokémon are still fighting—I, as their Trainer, can’t give up early.
Afterward, with gratitude in the second challenger’s eyes, Natsu welcod the third challenger of the day.
Earlier, Natsu had been wondering if he’d run into any brainless types today.
And, well—turns out he had.
This guy hadn’t openly insulted anyone, but the passive-aggressive attitude was undeniable—and annoying.
This middle-aged Trainer clearly thought Natsu was too young to be taken seriously.
Forget his strength—could a kid like that even handle the responsibilities of a Trainer?
Probably hadn’t been through much either. Definitely not soone you could count on.
In short, he was bitter.
Staring at the sour-faced challenger before him, Natsu thought for a mont, then replied:
“Challenging this gym is the only ti you and I will ever cross paths in life.”
“I don’t have anything else to say to you.”
“After this match, go ho and find yourself a proper job.”
“Being a Trainer isn’t for you.”
Natsu had already read the guy’s file.
And frankly, “persistent” was the best thing he could say about him.
High EQ: persistent.
Low EQ: middle-aged loser with no results, weak but still clinging to dreams.
Before the other Trainer could retort, Natsu released his first Pokémon onto the field.
“Let’s go, Corviknight.”
At the mont the white light exploded, a strong gust of wind suddenly swept across the battlefield.
Under the dazzling white lights, a hulking figure with a tallic sheen descended onto the arena.
Before the battle even began, Natsu had anticipated the possibility of sothing unexpected happening—so he made sure to bring his main force along.
Like the one currently stepping forward to fight—Corviknight.
Tilting its head, the Corviknight, cloaked in dark tallic feathers, stared at the opposing trainer with its dark red eyes.
It was almost like it was silently urging the opponent to hurry up and send out their Pokémon.
Normally carefree and a bit goofy, Corviknight showed no signs of playfulness at this mont. It simply stared quietly at its target.
Standing on the opposite end of the battlefield, the middle-aged challenger froze.
He’d been so focused on the fact that his opponent was just a youngster that he’d completely overlooked Natsu’s actual strength.
He opened his mouth, seemingly trying to say sothing.
But it no longer mattered.
“Pidgeot is unable to battle!”
“Challenger, please send out your next Pokémon!”
“Poliwrath is unable to battle!”
“Challenger, please send out your next Pokémon!”
“Jumpluff is unable to battle!”
“As all three of the challenger’s Pokémon have lost the ability to battle, the winner of this Gym battle is Gym Leader Natsu!”
It was a quick battle, without much suspense or spectacle.
Compared to earlier matches, Corviknight—fighting at full force—was downright simple and straightforward.
From the opponent’s point of view, it could be sumd up in one sentence:
“I showed up, I one-shotted you, what are you gonna do about it?!”
“Good luck.”
Tossing out that line casually, Natsu left the battlefield without another glance.
Originally, Natsu had considered sending out Ting-Lu, Pecharunt, and Okidogi to give the challenger a little legendary shock and awe.
But on second thought, it just wasn’t necessary.
Not worth it.
So instead, he sent out Corviknight—who had clearly gotten a bit chubbier recently.
Yep, the fact that Corviknight had been gaining weight hadn’t escaped Natsu’s notice.
It all started one night when Natsu was cleaning Corviknight and got jabbed by its round belly.
Seeing the guilty look in its eyes, Natsu felt like he suddenly understood everything.
And thus began Corviknight’s nightmare.
Its regular als were cut down, and snacks were basically nonexistent.
Watching a show without snacks? That’s soulless!
At first, Corviknight thought this kind of life would last until it slimd down.
But earlier, Natsu had said that if Corviknight gave a strong enough performance today, the snack ban would be lifted—for tonight only.
Just tonight. One chance.
But for Corviknight, that promise was pure heaven.
So the mont it entered the field, it went all in.
Holding back? Taking things slow?
Doesn’t exist.
Natsu said go all out—so Corviknight didn’t hold anything back.
It went for the kill!
In the first match, it took a bit of ti to set up.
But once the setup was done, it only took one wing strike. Next.
The second Pokémon didn’t even know what hit it before getting clocked straight in the face.
Then ca the third one—this one at least lasted a little longer.
Corviknight gave it two solid smacks.
The first blow flattened it to the ground.
And since it hadn’t technically lost the ability to battle yet, Corviknight finished it off with one more hit.
Co on, the goal this round was crystal clear.
If that guy managed to hold on, then what about Corviknight’s pride? What about its snacks?
Pride? Whatever.
Corviknight never had much pride anyway—on the farm, it was always at the bottom of both the food chain and the pecking order.
But snacks? That’s a different story.
That, it had to fight for.
And just like that, the morning’s Gym challenge ca to an end.
The results and battle footage were soon circulating online.
In the internet age, there are barely any secrets that can stay hidden.
Besides, Natsu never intended to keep his Gym’s situation under wraps.
A bit of publicity is good for the Gym’s future developnt.
It helps people understand the actual difficulty of challenging the Gym.
Otherwise, if rookie trainers keep showing up with just a freshly caught Rattata or Bellsprout, it’d be more of a headache than anything.
So people, no matter how clear you make the challenge requirents, will still stubbornly try their luck.
Only when they realize they’re completely outmatched will they finally back down.
The afternoon’s Gym challenge was fairly standard.
The only noteworthy thing was that the first challenger originally scheduled for the afternoon canceled at the last minute, saying sothing had co up at ho.
Maybe it really was sothing urgent.
But that had nothing to do with Natsu anymore.
Once the afternoon session ended and the Gym closed for the day, Natsu headed straight back to the farm.
Well—“headed back” was just walking through the back door of the Gym.
After all, the Gym itself had been built on the edge of the farm.
By the ti Natsu got ho, night had fully fallen.
Since it was the Gym’s opening day, there were a lot of things he had double-checked after everything ended.
Making sure the doors and windows were properly locked, making sure the system was in sleep mode.
Even though there were staff watching over the place…
Natsu still felt he hadn’t fully adjusted his mindset yet.
From laid-back farm boss to laid-back Gym Leader.
At the mont, Natsu figured he could still act like a responsible, hands-on Gym Leader for a little while longer.
“Ah, it’s almost winter already.”
Looking up at the dim moon in the sky, Natsu belatedly realized that autumn had co and gone.
That’s just how Lianshan Town was—awkwardly situated.
People from the south thought it belonged to the north. People from the north thought it belonged to the south.
It had all four seasons.
But spring and autumn were so short, you could basically ignore them.
Blink and you’d miss the mild weather—before you knew it, scorching sumr or bitter winter had arrived.
So places are hot in sumr but mild in winter.
Others are freezing in winter but cool in sumr.
And then there are unlucky places—like Lianshan Town—hot in sumr and freezing in winter.
No shortage of hardships.
Maybe that’s just fate.
“Whatever. Not thinking about it anymore.”
Shaking his head, Natsu quickened his pace to the door.
As soon as he opened it, a warm yellow light spilled through the doorway.
Just from the light alone, Natsu could tell i was here.
When he was ho by himself, he always used the white ceiling lights in the living room.
Only i would turn on the warm-colored lamp in the corner—the one originally ant as a decorative touch.
“Natsu, you’re back!”
Sure enough, hearing the door open, i peeked out from the kitchen excitedly.
The mont she saw it was Natsu, she skipped over to greet him.
She had taken off her classic Trainer outfit from earlier—sun hat, sportswear, and sneakers—and changed into the clothes they’d bought together on their last shopping trip.
The oversized outfit nicely concealed her figure.
When she was ho or just relaxing, i preferred wearing loose, comfortable clothes.
During their travels, she always had to wear sothing practical and easy to move in—which could feel a bit restrictive after a while.
That’s why she liked the relaxed feel of these ho clothes.
Right now, she had a pale pink apron tied around her front and thick oven mitts on her hands.
Looked like she was about to cook sothing.
i’s cooking skills weren’t top-tier, but she had a lot of enthusiasm for trying new recipes.
Whenever she had free ti, she’d follow those viral online recipes.
Problem was, a lot of those recipes ended in disaster.
To the point where i almost gave up trying new ones.
Mostly because she and Natsu had to finish all the failed dishes together.
Wasting food is shaful.
Even if it turns out badly, you’ve got to eat what you made—tears and all.
Of course, anything that might actually cause food poisoning was a different story.
That wasn’t frugality—that was asking for trouble.
“I’m back.”
Natsu smiled at i as he took off his coat and set it aside.
At that mont, Natsu suddenly had a strange feeling.
It was as if… they’d already been like this for a long ti.
Like a couple who had been married for years?
No way.
The thought barely surfaced before Natsu quickly pushed it aside.
Yeah, that was definitely overthinking it.
He was only nineteen this year, and i was a few months younger—not even nineteen yet.
They were just eighteen.
Calling them an old married couple was more than a little absurd.
“What are you up to, dressed like that?”
Looking at i’s outfit, Natsu feigned curiosity.
Even if he already had a good idea, sotis it was better to play along and pretend he didn’t know.
It gave the girl a little chance to show off, just a bit.
When she first ca to the farm, i had never ntioned liking to cook or anything like that.
So things—well, they only beco aningful when done with certain people.
“I’m going to bake so little cakes.”
“This afternoon, Indeedee's little sister spent ages going through recipes before we finally settled on this one.”
She lifted her phone and showed Natsu the mini cakes she’d picked out earlier.
Visually speaking, they actually looked pretty decent.
But Natsu had a feeling i might end up giving up on making them look like that.
Couldn’t be helped—getting the look, the aroma, and the flavor all right was still a bit out of reach for her at this stage.
As long as they slled good and tasted good, that’d be enough.
And sure enough, just as Natsu expected.
After a few tries, i decisively gave up on the aesthetic part of the mini cakes.
That level of detail was just a bit beyond her for now.
If they tasted fine, that was already great in her book.
“Ding~”
“Ah! They’re done!”
At the sound of the tir, i dashed off toward the kitchen in a flurry.
This was her first ti trying to make mini cakes.
She couldn’t afford to ss it up!
Not this ti!
Watching her bustling about in the kitchen, Natsu’s lips curved into a small, involuntary smile.
For Natsu, living alone had never really been a big deal.
With his Pokémon around, he’d never felt lonely.
Even back when he was sleeping in a nearly abandoned old house with Persian and the others, he hadn’t felt lonely.
But after i had co and gone again, sotis Natsu felt like sothing was missing.
When making Pokéblocks. When brushing his Pokémon’s fur.
No fixed timing to it—just during so quiet mont, when his hands happened to stop moving.
He’d always feel like… sothing was missing.
Missing the voice that used to keep him company in idle chatter.
And when that feeling hit, Natsu would often grab whatever fuzzy Pokémon was passing by and give it a good, chaotic scritch.
The most frequent victim—w—had since learned to closely watch Natsu’s body language.
It would sit quietly nearby when he was busy, but the second he showed signs of taking a break, it’d bolt.
I have dignity too! w protested in its heart.
I’m not so plush toy you can just squish whenever you want! At least offer snacks first!
But sadly, protests fell on deaf ears.
Poor w still ended up repeatedly in the clutches of the Great Demon King Natsu.
At least, that’s how w told it to the other Pokémon.
And of course, those stories always ended up circling back to Natsu sohow.
Whenever he heard them, he’d find w again for another round of aggressive scritching.
“So you’re the one badmouthing , huh? Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson!”
Sotis Natsu even suspected that w was doing it on purpose.
How else could he explain its behavior?
It knew it’d get caught and squished again, but it kept spreading rumors anyway.
Could it be… a bit of an M?
Emmmmm…
Best not to think too hard about that.
If he kept going down that road, he’d start thinking about those Pokémon that enjoy battling.
After all, getting hurt and taking hits are part of battle too.
If you enjoy battle, aren’t you kind of enjoying…
Nope. Can’t say it. Not going there.
This book is not shifting genres into the adult-only category.
“w~”
Right on cue, just as he was thinking about it, the pink rascal popped out from a corner of the living room.
It was holding a phone nearly the size of its own head.
The mischievous grin on its face made it obvious: it had just pulled another prank.
Well, maybe not a prank, per se.
But definitely sothing it found amusing.
w definitely had a bit of that chaotic trickster energy in its blood.
Natsu eyed the phone in its hands but didn’t reach out to take it.
Since he’d given it to w, it belonged to w now.
Natsu didn’t like it when people casually took his things without asking, so he tried not to do that to others either.
i had once asked him, during a casual conversation, what kind of person he wanted to beco.
At the ti, Natsu couldn’t co up with a clear answer.
But he did know what kind of person he didn’t want to beco—and he worked hard to avoid doing things he himself would find distasteful.
“Enough playing. i made mini cakes tonight. You’re eating with us later.”
“w…”
The mischievous grin vanished from w’s face, replaced by visible dread.
Can I still escape if I run now?
It wasn’t that it didn’t trust i’s cooking.
But whenever i tried sothing new, there was always a chance it would go horribly wrong.
And being dragged in to taste test ant suffering in silence.
After every bite, w would imdiately dash off to rinse its mouth with juice and Pokéblocks.
“Nope.”
Natsu’s rciless reply crushed w’s last hope.
Cursed Natsu, I hope you can’t sleep tonight!
Fuming, w planted a vicious curse on him in its heart.
Shhhhhuuuua—
A dragging sound against the floor signaled another arrival.
Turning his head, Natsu saw a visibly annoyed Serperior slithering over.
It began to complain about Corviknight’s “awful” behavior.
After not seeing each other for so long, it had thought they’d have a warm reunion.
But instead of a welco, it got a cold, guarded stare—like Corviknight was worried it had co to steal its snacks.
What do you take for?!
Am I that kind of snake?!
Okay, fine, Natsu’s snacks were pretty tasty.
And yes, they were hard to find outside.
And sure, Pokéblocks out there really weren’t all that great.
And also—
Sluuuurp—
But I, Serperior, would never stoop to craving your snacks! (wipes mouth)
“Ah, yeah. That is pretty insulting.”
Looking at the flustered Serperior, Natsu couldn’t help but feel a little amused.
This kid always managed to be unintentionally hilarious.
Normally, it gave off this aloof, dignified air—but the second Corviknight entered the scene, it turned into the straight man in a cody routine.
That contrast was what made it so fun to watch.
“Alright, alright. Don’t be mad.”
“That dumb Corviknight really was out of line. I’ll teach it a lesson later.”
“Cut its snack allowance for a month, take away its phone and laptop.”
“And then have Shiny Furret put it through a week of intense training.”
As he gently patted Serperior’s head like one would calm a child, Natsu spoke soothingly.
Serperior’s eyes flickered oddly at his words.
It turned away, its expression a little awkward.
"Ser…"
It’s not that serious, really. I wasn’t that mad.
Seeing the bashful Serperior, Natsu exchanged a glance with w, and both could see the amusent in each other's eyes.
This kid’s thoughts were pretty easy to read.
To put it plainly, it had just been ticked off by Corviknight and wanted a little revenge.
But when it ca to really going too far, Serperior couldn’t quite bring itself to do it.
It just didn’t feel like the situation called for such extres.
As long as Natsu grasped Serperior’s current mindset, this was an easy issue to resolve.
“Alright, fine. For your sake, I won’t confiscate its phone.”
“But training is non-negotiable.”
“You have no idea how much that guy’s been putting on weight lately.”
“The last ti I gave it a bath, its belly was sticking out more than its beak.”
“At this rate, it’s going to turn into a super fat bird.”
Hearing Natsu’s words, Serperior pictured a bloated, oversized Corviknight in its mind—
And couldn’t help but shiver.
That image was just too disgusting. Absolutely not!
“Serr!”
Please! You have to make it lose weight!
Serperior looked at Natsu with utmost sincerity.
In its mory, while Corviknight had a sharp tongue, it was still undeniably cool-looking.
If even that cool appearance were lost…
Serperior felt it might not even be able to look Corviknight in the eye anymore.
What can it say—humans are visual creatures.
And so are Pokémon.
Especially Serperior, the very embodint of elegance and mystery.
“Alright, starting tomorrow, I’ll have Shiny Furret drag it into training.”
“That guy really has been slacking off lately.”
Clapping his hands, Natsu finalized Corviknight’s new schedule.
In fact, he had been planning this for a while—he just hadn’t made it official until today.
First thing in the morning, Corviknight would have a cup of energy drink specially crafted by the younger Butler.
Then the tornt would begin.
First stop: high-intensity physical training with Shiny Furret.
At so point, Shiny Furret had beco obsessed with achieving the ultimate physique.
All those flashy moves were just auxiliary tools now.
With a body strong enough, there was no enemy it couldn’t defeat!
And if it lost, it just ant its muscle purity wasn’t high enough!
Second stop: move training with w-sensei.
No need for long lectures—just cycle through every move it knows five tis.
Then w would assign the rest of the training plan.
Lunchti was rest and food.
als were handled by Indeedee, who brought nutritious als specially prepared.
Afternoon training consisted of a mixed doubles match featuring Slowking and Ogerpon.
That duo was hand-picked by Natsu with care.
Slowking had recently taken to challenging Corviknight whenever it was free.
It could fight, but its attacks were too soft—like a tickle—so it needed a hard-hitting partner.
And Ogerpon, ever since reclaiming its mask, had been itching for a chance to let loose.
It knew its own strength well and understood that only by pushing its limits could it wield its power better in battle.
Problem was, there weren’t many on the farm who could tank Ogerpon's full power head-on.
The likes of Tauros and company? Just glorified bouncing balls—Ogerpon swatted them around for fun.
Nowhere near punching-bag level.
This was where the farm’s reigning "King of Endurance," Corviknight, stepped in.
Corviknight could hone its tankiness, Ogerpon could explore its full potential, and Slowking could figure out what support moves were actually worth using in double battles.
More practice with underused support moves wouldn’t hurt.
A triple win!
Wait, no—Natsu wins too.
Quadruple win!
So yeah, Corviknight was definitely getting beat up.
As for the evening, Natsu figured he’d let Corviknight do whatever it wanted.
Watch shows, scroll its phone—whatever it fancied.
You’ve got to give the kid so downti, after all.
Natsu wasn’t planning to take that little leisure ti away.
Of course, that was assuming Corviknight behaved. If it didn’t… well, then things might not be so nice.
Natsu was sure Corviknight understood that perfectly well.
“Cakes are ready!”
i’s voice rang out from the kitchen.
w, who had been gleefully watching the drama, suddenly froze. It instinctively turned its head toward Natsu.
I just rembered I have sothing to do. I’m heading out.
You try the cakes for . If they’re good, bring so to .
If not… forget it.
Natsu didn’t know how w did it, but sohow, he could understand all of that just from one look.
Maybe that’s the power of a mythical Pokémon.
Natsu himself wasn’t as skilled—he could only reply with a simple ssage:
No.
“w…”
w’s tail drooped pathetically, and its face took on a deeply sorrowful expression.
It looked pitiful.
But Natsu remained unmoved.
At first, he used to feel bad for it—but over ti, he realized:
This little guy’s a total actor.
What a waste it wasn’t born for the stage.
Yes, this whole performance was just an act. Don’t be fooled by that pitiful expression—it was probably snickering inside.
Realizing Natsu wasn’t falling for it, w puffed out its cheeks angrily.
It looked like an angry little pufferfish.
Honestly, appearance-wise, w was pretty cute.
If Diancie was the most beautiful Pokémon in the world, then in Natsu’s opinion, w could definitely compete for the title of cutest.
And that’s just its natural form.
If you factored in its transformation ability…
Then Natsu figured w could win any title—cutest, most beautiful, coolest, or whatever else.
What can he say—being able to transform ans you can do whatever you want.
Beside them, Serperior’s tail swayed slightly. No reaction.
It was used to this.
Ever since i t Natsu, she had started cooking.
You think all those early cooking disasters were eaten by i alone?
Nope—it was Serperior!
Back then, i’s cooking was… well, “catastrophic” would be putting it lightly.
Serperior suspected that if i hadn’t improved, it might have developed poison resistance by now. Which, in a way, was a kind of talent too.
“Heave-ho!”
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, i brought out a steaming tray of mini cakes.
The kitchen had been sweltering.
Even though i was only wearing a loose, oversized shirt, she was drenched in sweat.
She looked at the cakes with satisfaction and nodded.
Fresh from the oven, the golden surface of the mini cakes glistened slightly with oil, looking both tempting and delicious.
They were topped with powdered sugar i had just dusted on.
To be honest, i had wanted to make those fancy little cakes you see all over social dia.
But her skills weren’t quite there yet—this was the best she could do for now.
“Slls amazing.”
“w!”
“Ser!”
One human and two Pokémon gathered around the table, eyes fixed curiously on the mini cakes i had just brought out.
None of them had expected her to nail the cake on her first try—and it turned out pretty great.
Not just the aroma—even the appearance was solid.
Honestly, not too far off from what you’d find in a shop.
w stole a glance at Serperior beside it.
Are you sure she’s never made these cakes before?
Serperior rolled its eyes silently.
Positive.
Back when i was still traveling, she usually stayed in rooms provided by Pokémon Centers.
While they were fine for sleeping, they weren’t exactly suited for cooking.
There hadn’t really been much opportunity to develop any cooking skills.
Frankly, the fact that her cooking hadn’t regressed during that ti was impressive in itself.
Tilting its head slightly, w glanced at the kitchen with a suspicious look.
Hmm. The younger Butler wasn’t there either.
So it really was i who made these.
Was this what they called… the power of love?
Wait a minute—had things between them really progressed that far?
w fell into a deep, contemplative silence.
Question: What should one do when the couple you’re shipping shows absolutely no romantic developnt?
Logically, this was the ti to start playing matchmaker.
But w felt that any small moves on its part would probably be picked up by Natsu, so maybe… better not.
That guy’s intuition sotis bordered on the absurd—more accurate than so Psychic-type legendaries.
Sotis w honestly wasn’t sure who was the real Psychic-type Pokémon here.
Still watching the warm little cakes steaming in front of him, Natsu reached out to pinch a piece—only to predictably jerk back, scalded by the heat.
“w, cool this for , will you?”
Retracting his hand, Natsu looked over at w.
w glanced at the hand he’d just pulled back, then rembered the ti Natsu had subdued a raging, fire-spewing Houndoom barehanded.
w said nothing in the end. Instead, it gently blew a puff of cold air over the small cake he’d touched.
The chill instantly pulled the heat away, leaving the little cake at just the right temperature.
That should do it—shouldn’t be too hot now.
“I’ll try it.”
Natsu picked up the now-warm piece of cake and popped it in his mouth.
The mont he bit down, he first felt the slight crisp of the outer layer. Then the soft, fluffy interior began to lt in his mouth like clouds. The sweetness was just right—not cloying, but with a hint of natural fragrance that made it subtly addictive…
Okay, Natsu couldn’t keep bullshitting.
Yes, the cake really was good. But not that exaggerated.
Besides, Natsu’s literary skills weren't nearly up to crafting that kind of gourt-level description.
He’d seen that kind of copy on a food delivery app once. Probably a paid review.
In the end, Natsu offered the most honest reaction he could:
“Delicious.”
Coming from Natsu, that was about as high praise as it got.
Any more than that, and he really would’ve been forcing it.
“w!”
I wanna try too!
Lifting a small cake with telekinesis, w cooled it down using the sa trick.
But just as it was about to take a bite, another piece—this one lifted by vines—floated right up in front of it.
w locked eyes with Serperior for a few seconds.
And then gave in.
“w!”
Fine!
With a grumble, it cooled down that cake as well before returning to its own and taking a grumpy bite.
Ugh, why does everyone think I’m easygoing?!
I’m supposed to be a proud and majestic legendary, you know!
“How is it?”
Having taken off her apron and gloves, i looked eagerly at w and Serperior.
As expected, she was t with enthusiastic approval from both.
Seeing her little cakes receive unanimous praise, i couldn’t hold back a grin.
“These took over half a month to perfect.”
“It’s my first ti actually making them, but I’ve morized every single step by heart.”
Lifting her chin proudly, i bead.
For soone who wasn’t exactly a pro in the kitchen, pulling this off was no small feat.
You really had to give it to her—she’d put in the work.
“This cake…”
With pride practically bubbling over, i launched into a full explanation of the ingredients and steps involved.
However…
“Hey! Save so for !”
“w!”
“Ser!”
Under the night sky, warm light spilled through the glass, casting shadows of their laughter and play across the ground.
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