The picnic lasted into late night, with several rotations of Pokémon coming and going.
Though nearly forty Pokémon wouldn't eat an entire expansive field's worth of lons, a few bottomless pits saw the stock more than half gone.
The remainder, eaten sparingly, should still get them through the hottest days. Too bad no ca to steal lons before the harvest was finished—Lucas never got to show off a moonlit hog-stabbing.
Fortunately, in a few days when they stripped the vines and leaves, in the spirit of sustainability, they could have Comfey and Eldegoss tend the lon vines again—maybe even harvest a second crop before sumr's end.
When it felt like ti, Lucas had the Pokémon start cleaning up, sorting the trash into colored bags to take back to the farm for the passing garbage truck.
This world's waste handling is both eco-friendly and convenient.
Several Poison-type Pokémon feed on all kinds of garbage, digesting it into energy or toxic gas for attacks.
Grir, Muk, Trubbish, Garbodor, and the Alolan Grir and Muk are adept at this.
Lost Platos's trash is hauled to a plant outside Porto Marinada, where such Pokémon process it.
Lucas initially considered keeping one on the farm to handle kitchen scraps.
But given Grir and Muk's ineradicable stench, he gave up and paid the plant instead.
Trubbish and Garbodor, carefully raised, reportedly don't sll much. Alolan Grir and Muk don't sll at all; instead, toxins crystallize in their bodies from digested waste.
Those crystals are dazzling—coveted by oddball collectors.
But the toxins are terrifying. Lucas worried that a stray crystal might drop unnoticed and harm another Pokémon, so he shelved the idea.
Once everything was bagged and the adow spotless, just as Lucas was about to lead the return, the sound of machinery moving ca from not far away.
On this silent night, even the Kricketune had ended their concert; only the babble of the stream remained. A pin dropping would ring out—let alone a sound as blatant as this.
Lucas and the Pokémon turned toward it—and imdiately saw a Pokémon gleaming pink-violet under the moon.
"Iron Valiant…"
Lucas narrowed his eyes, checking if it was the one he knew.
Luxray, Mimikyu, and Swampert didn't rush; they shielded the non-combatants who stood no chance against Iron Valiant.
Ceruledge, busy carving waterlon rinds into rabbit shapes to train its sculpting, paused and looked up. Seeing Iron Valiant, white smoke in its violet eyes flickered—the reflection of its stirred heart.
Sparring with Luxray or Swampert honed its combat tactics. Fighting Iron Valiant, however, had injected new vitality into its stagnant swordmanship.
After a period of settling, Ceruledge's swordsmanship had beco more refined; it could feel its progress.
Thus, at Iron Valiant's approach, its first reaction was joy.
—Great. Another bout, and I'll grow stronger.
Ceruledge exchanged a glance with Lucas, got a nod, handed the carved rind-bunny carefully to Vulpix, and smiled gently as it walked toward Iron Valiant.
The Shuckle sister peered curiously, but when its eyes t Iron Valiant's data-eye, even the cheerful Shuckle shrank its neck, sensing a powerful threat.
The Shuckle brother had already retreated into its shell; no coaxing would bring it out. The sister, exasperated, slid over to Alcremie and asked about Iron Valiant's story.
Seeing that aside from the absent four Miltank, only the new Shuckle siblings didn't know about Iron Valiant, Alcremie gave them the gist—making them even more nervous.
Even that big black bird had been cut down like vegetables; every ti the siblings saw Corviknight's beak and claws, they shivered. Better to stay back and let Luxray and the others protect them.
In the silent night, only the steps of a chanical knight and a cursed-armor swordsman sounded.
They didn't exchange words. A single locked gaze sufficed. From a walk to a sprint—in an instant, Ceruledge and Iron Valiant clashed.
Iron Valiant split its pink-violet blade in two and t Ceruledge's twin flaming swords head-on.
As blades crossed, a clear sword-hum rang through the night.
"Sss—lo."
At first contact, Ceruledge sensed Iron Valiant's approach was entirely different, as if it… not foresaw but computed Ceruledge's attacks and intercepted them a step ahead, launching a storm of counters.
Ceruledge frowned slightly. Its swordplay had been read sohow. Lucas had said these futuristic paradox Pokémon likely had onboard systems to assist with combat and calculations. It seed true.
Iron Valiant must be leveraging that "calculation," having cracked Ceruledge's patterns after a single battle.
Still, Ceruledge hadn't wasted this ti. Its repertoire and technique had advanced.
Ceruledge's eyes sharpened; it changed forms without hesitation, launching a second wave in ways Iron Valiant wouldn't predict. In no ti it wrested back initiative, making micro-adjustnts in real ti.
Neither used nad moves—only pure swordsmanship. Their blades seed to blur.
As the duel grew tighter, Iron Valiant grew more lost.
It calculated relentlessly—why, after replicating all of Ceruledge's prior techniques and evolving them to a higher level, could Ceruledge still produce counters outside its simulation—and absorb Iron Valiant's own evolved techniques?
Did this an its learning speed lagged behind Ceruledge's?
In the end, a beautiful rising slash from Ceruledge flicked Iron Valiant's twin blades into the air. Ceruledge leveled a sword at it, voice calm:
"Sss—lo." (Go.)
Iron Valiant rose in silence, reached out, and the twin blades buried in the earth flew back to its left hand like iron to a magnet, rejoining into a double-edged pink-violet sword.
"Bok-kin." (I'll be back.)
It looked at Ceruledge deeply, chest filled with emotions it couldn't parse.
This ti, it would fully evolve its simulations—and next ti, crush Ceruledge completely—no more hesitation or doubt.
Timid blades never win.
It ca fast and went faster.
A light tap of its toes, and Iron Valiant blurred away like a moonlit sprite, leaving behind only the lawn trimd flat by the shockwaves of its duel with Ceruledge.
Ceruledge stood thoughtful, newly enlightened on swordmanship. Lucas, holding a waterlon he'd ant to deliver, stared blankly—Iron Valiant was already gone.
…
July 16, Minor Heat.
He'd stayed up far too late. Though it was already midday, Lucas lay in bed, while Luxray, Serperior, and Mimikyu were lively at dawn.
Despite the ruckus outside, Lucas slept until eleven, when his phone's vibration roused him.
A bank text.
[Paldea People's Bank: AL 798/07/16 11:45 — Naranja Academy acct 0101 transferred to your acct ending 114: 500,000 League credits. Balance: 1,235,767.61. Note: Midyear Bonus.]
"Mmm… broke a million again. Nice."
His sleep vanished; a smile spread across his face.
Naranja Academy's benefits were solid. Four months paid vacation a year, plus midyear and even bigger year-end bonuses. That midyear bonus alone equaled over two months' salary.
On paper, his raise still didn't match the Miltanks' output, but by analogy it was like a civil service job back before he crossed—modest salary, generous perks. Very comfy.
And the job was flexible now—no more fixed weekly classes; he could adjust freely based on teaching needs. Perfect for soone who liked scouring the world for things to bring back to the farm.
Pocket pleasantly plump again, he rolled around thinking how to spend it.
The custom automatic milker for the five Miltank in Levincia would only be 150,000 credits. For that level of automation, a bargain.
The Miltank would strap the cups on at the right ti, the machine would run with proper pressure, and pause as needed—a humane design.
Freed up, Lucas wouldn't have to spend half a day milking—just bottle and cap the Moomoo Milk.
"This should cover a new building… The kitchen's getting cramped with more Pokémon. Ti to add a bigger, brighter house to the farm plan."
He got up, mulling renovation plans, threw on sothing light, and stepped out in slippers.
Outside, Dragonite and the Dragonite leader were training Third Scar and its flock.
Corviknight, so imposing to outsiders, and the crafty Rookidee—both shrank like quail before the two Dragonite's coaching.
The Dragonite leader had once delivered letters around New Island under wtwo's orders—plenty of courier experience.
Ignore its occasional chats with "ghosts" that weren't there, and it was a fine instructor.
The other Dragonite had often accompanied Lucas exploring and knew Lost Platos like the back of its hand—practically had the map morized—more than enough for the planned local milk-run pilot.
Crows are clever in nature—forming cliques, and the fable about stones and water. Corviknight and its kin, being Pokémon, are even smarter.
One Dragonite knew routes and had experience; the other knew the town's layout and districts. Together, they whipped the Corviknight crew into shape.
At this pace, after the late-month Pokémon Marathon, the milk subscription should launch smoothly.
Smiling, Lucas left them to it, went to the warehouse, and pulled out a slightly yellowed map to study.
"Mm, detailed marks for where Iron Treads and Great Tusk might appear, but not very useful to ."
[Hmm-hmm!]
"Don't get cocky—you're navigating."
After a brief exchange with the system that was useless most of the ti, Lucas rolled up the map, slid it into a drawing tube he'd prepared, and secured it.
Artists use it for canvases, but it suits maps fine.
He'd nabbed it from Hassel's studio when he'd gone to see Hassel and Brassius—perfect size for the map.
Terry had given him this map, but Lucas hadn't planned to explore then.
Now, with several big milestones still a ways off and most tasks done, loafing about on the farm felt wrong. He pulled out the map and decided to explore the Asado Desert.
In the gas, the lairs of those Titan Pokémon held mature Herba Mystica. Before his own farm-grown Herba matured, he could verify his theories with the ones in the wild.
As for the evolution item Terry ntioned—one that could evolve Pokémon that "couldn't" evolve—Lucas doubted it was a ga Stone.
Paldea and Kalos are close; a few ga Stones could have drifted over. But he already had Swampertite, and no other Pokémon eligible for ga.
Unless the remakes after his crossing introduced new gas—say, a Luxrayite—ga Stones would be of little use to him, maybe trade fodder or gifts.
His gut said this item might grant a permanent evolution, not a ti-limited ga.
That made the Asado Desert trip even more exciting.
…
anwhile—
Kanto/Johto regions, Orange Archipelago.
Ash had beaten Drake at Pumlo Stadium, earning his first Championship. Though not as prestigious as a League victory, he was over the moon registering at the Palace of Victory.
High above, the Delibird that had witnessed a proper 6v6 shook its head—too green. If he celebrated this hard now, just wait until Johto League—Pryce's ice and the final Dragon master will be no cakewalk.
Delibird flapped away from Pumlo Island toward the horizon.
It and wtwo had blitzed all the Johto Gyms mostly by teleporting in, stomping, grabbing badges, and leaving.
Delibird hadn't really seen much of Johto.
Tired, it perched on a tiny atoll's palm, opened the notebook Lucas had given it, and read until dusk. Then it gently stowed the notebook and a pair of blue slippers in its hollow tail.
According to Lucas's handwritten notes, Johto had many places worth visiting:
The Ruins of Alph, Sprout Tower in Violet City, Slowpoke Well east of Azalea and Ilex Forest to the west, Ecruteak's Burned Tower and Bell Tower, the Lake of Rage near Mahogany, Olivine's Lighthouse, the Whirl Islands, and Mt. Silver.
It would be another thrilling journey.
Eyes shining, Delibird leaned on the palm and fell into a deep sleep.
…
Johto Region, green plains near the Ruins of Alph.
Spencer Hale, a Pokémon archaeologist, explored a dark ancient ruin with his assistant.
He snapped photos of cryptic wall script until he found a rusty chest. Inside were many wooden tablets.
Hesitating, he picked up three. Before he could examine them, they glowed blue and arcs of lightning flickered in the air.
"What the…"
Stunned, he couldn't finish his sentence. Strange, single-eyed, letter-like black Pokémon surrounded him.
In the next instant—
Professor Spencer vanished.
Only a cara clattered to the ground, startling the assistant. Looking around and finding no trace of the doctor, the assistant paled.
"Professor…"
…
Asado Desert—vast and sprawling in western Paldea—a nightmare for novices, a goldmine for veterans.
As a certain old friend once said—
"Want my treasure? You can have it! Find it! I left everything there!"
Thus began a golden age of piracy.
Paldea wasn't that extre, but rumors persisted—quite credible ones.
Two thousand years ago, during the Paldean Empire, the emperor sent people to explore Area Zero and hid his own treasures.
Among the many suspected caches, the Asado Desert ranked first. Countless trainers in and out of the desert had found valuable items and made a tidy sum.
So even found priceless cot shards and beca rich overnight.
Having explored the desert dozens of tis with full kit, Lucas couldn't deny it. He too had picked up so fine things there.
Just as One Piece sparked the pirate era, Paldea had its own desert treasure fever.
Trainers and adventurers flocked to the Asado Desert, chasing the emperor's elusive trove.
Terry had once been among them. Now he'd given up, settled in Porto Marinada with a warm, ordinary life.
On July 18, fully prepared, Lucas mounted Dragonite, carrying Terry's map and a backpack of water and food, and plunged into the Asado Desert.
...
Bonus chapter at 100 PS
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