"What a shame... that Rampardos barely burned through any stamina at all, relying on Dragon Force to hold the line."
"It seems my only choice is a mutual-destruction strike."
"Dragonite, maximum-power Dragon Rush!"
Feng Lu fixed his gaze upon Dragonite.
Dragonite gave a firm nod. Its frame expanded several times over, descending from the sky like a titanic, rampaging behemoth.
"Dragonite isn't merely using Dragon Rush; it has triggered Outrage as well," Mewtwo murmured softly to Feng Che. "The strain on its body will be immense. That dragon won't be in any condition to fight for at least two or three months."
"It seems Dragonite intends to take Rampardos down with it," Feng Che remarked, arching an eyebrow.
Stacking Dragon Rush with Outrage multiplied the offensive output exponentially. To weather such an assault, Rampardos could not rely on passive defense; it had to seize the offensive. As the saying went, the best defense was a swift, overwhelming attack.
"Rampardos—Smart Strike, Horn Drill, and Heavy Slam!"
Feng Che issued three commands in rapid succession.
The singular horn atop Rampardos's head lengthened and began spinning at blinding speed. Channeling every ounce of its strength, it charged straight up toward the falling draconic meteor.
Rumble!
A blinding golden light illuminated the entire arena, whipping up a ferocious tempest.
When the brilliance faded, Feng Che saw Dragonite sprawled across the shattered earth, lying in a pool of its own blood. Crimson welled from beneath its fractured scales; the great dragon was already dead to the world in deep unconsciousness.
Rampardos was in scarcely better shape, yet its consciousness remained intact—it had not succumbed to a faint.
"Return, Dragonite."
Feng Lu had long braced himself for his Pokémon sustaining severe trauma. He recalled Dragonite into a Heal Ball.
The Heal Ball was a specialized capsule capable of administering rudimentary medical treatment, maintaining continuous data feedback with standard Poké Balls. Its interior housed a potent reservoir of precious medicinal compounds capable of preserving the life of a critically wounded, dying Pokémon. Such balls were exceptionally rare, prized on the same level as Master Balls.
"My next partner is this one."
Feng Lu released a Kommo-o—the brother to Vio's own partner. Raised by Vio's side from a young age, it was a master of diverse close-combat arts.
Kommo-o was clad from head to tail in scale-like armor. Most of its body was an iron-gray, with small, tooth-like ridges flanking both sides of its upper and lower jaws. The crown of its head was layered with an intricate arrangement of armored scales. It stood bipedally, with an immense number of hardened plates clustering across its tail and head. Its frame was enormous, rippling with dense, corded muscle.
"Take the field, White Gyarados!"
Confronted with this Kommo-o, Feng Che retrieved a Poké Ball from his coat and sent forth his White Gyarados.
The White Gyarados took to the heavens, brimming with vigorous vitality, enveloped in coils of raging gale-force winds.
Pokémon: Gyarados (White)
Gender: Male
Aptitude: Epic (Cyan)
Ability: Moxie
Level: 79
Typing: Water / Flying
Moves: Ice Beam, Bite, Splash, Aqua Tail, Twister, Hyper Beam, Hydro Pump, Flamethrower, Ice Fang, Brine, Whirlpool, Rain Dance, Waterfall, Hurricane, Dragon Dance, etc.
Status: Full of Vigor
Evaluation: A Gyarados that has awakened its Flying typing. Spared from the brink of death through the salvation of the Jewel of Life, it has attained an ultimate mastery over the manipulation of wind.
"Impossible... Wasn't that Gyarados mortally wounded and on the verge of death?"
"Why is it here, completely unharmed?"
"Could that man possess a miracle elixir capable of restoring a Pokémon's life force so completely?"
The onlookers rubbed their eyes in disbelief, muttering among themselves as they tracked the serpentine dragon soaring through the clouds.
"If such a secret medicine truly exists, our Dragon-Taming Clan could conquer the Unova region overnight without fearing casualties!"
Greed flared openly in the eyes of the clan members.
Splendid... what a tremendous opportunity, the spectating Venom Dragon muttered under his breath. If I can secure that secret elixir, I can unite the Dragon-Taming Clan—and perhaps even rule the entire world.
Feng Che, sending out this Gyarados has stoked the avarice of the clan members, Mewtwo warned mentally.
Is that so bad? Feng Che replied with quiet confidence. Zekrom is present. Under Zekrom's gaze, even if these people are mighty dragons, they will coil down and bow their heads. If any dare disrespect Zekrom, a Bolt Strike from the heavens will deliver swift divine retribution.
Across the ring, Feng Lu channeled his Dragon Force into Kommo-o's body.
The scales lining Kommo-o's frame clattered against one another with sharp, metallic chimes. The plates swelled in size, locking together until they formed an unbroken carapace across its entire frame. Viewed from afar, Kommo-o now resembled an impenetrable, heavy-armored fortress.
"Kommo-o, Bulk Up!"
Veins pulsed along Kommo-o's frame as its corded musculature bulged almost to bursting.
"Gyarados, Hurricane!"
Six colossal pillars of wind descended from the heavens, bridging sky and earth. The gale howled with terrifying fury, churning stone and soil into a blinding squall.
Kommo-o dropped into a rock-solid horse stance, its footing rooted deep into the bedrock, its large dragon eyes locked unblinkingly onto the White Gyarados.
Within those wind pillars condensed countless razor-sharp air scythes—an ultimate technique the White Gyarados had comprehended while hovering at death's door. Every column swarmed with dense wind blades. As the pillars converged into a singular, cataclysmic vortex, the sheer atmospheric compression would grind anything trapped within down to fine powder.
The wind blades struck Kommo-o's scales in a relentless patter of sharp metallic chimes. Gale-force scythes swept over its body like a swarm of kamaitachi, yet Kommo-o's defenses proved utterly monstrous. Even under that furious barrage, the blades failed to leave so much as a pale scratch upon its gleaming plates.
As the six wind columns fully converged, Kommo-o was sealed inside a maelstrom of endless cutting gales. With each passing second, the wind blades gained velocity and cutting power, slashing at an ever-accelerating frequency.
Feng Che was well aware of Kommo-o's resilience; an opponent of this caliber would never yield easily.
Inside the squall, Kommo-o curled itself into a tight, armored sphere to weather the mounting fury of the storm.
"Kommo-o, Close Combat into the ground!"
Escaping the enclosure was simple enough—burrowing with Dig would allow it to bypass the storm's perimeter through the bedrock. Yet even if Kommo-o broke past the immediate vortex, the tempest would track and hound it without end.