Blowing the gale apart from the inside was far better than trying to outlast it.
Kommo-o drew in a deep breath and drove a thunderous punch directly into the ground.
The earth fractured into jagged slabs, sinking several inches beneath the impact. The violent shockwave tore into the raging wind, splintering the concentrated vortex into chaotic, scattered gusts that spilled across the field.
"Excellent, Kommo-o! Nicely done," Feng Che commended.
Yet, shattered though the vortex was, the feat had clearly cost Kommo-o a good measure of stamina.
"Gyarados, use Air Slash!"
Thousands of azure blades of wind rained down from the sky, each honed to lethal sharpness and surging with enhanced power. Meeting such a barrage head-on would drain far too much of Kommo-o's energy.
"Kommo-o, Close Combat into the air!"
Kommo-o met the deluge with a deceptively simple punch aimed skyward.
The concussive force of the blow ripped through the atmosphere, sending massive shockwaves rippling through the air. The incoming Air Slashes buckled against the vibrational wave, shattering mid-flight into countless harmless fragments.
"That Kommo-o is unreal..."
"Shattering an entire storm of Air Slashes with just the shockwave of a punch?"
"Wait, didn't someone in our clan use to wield a Kommo-o just like that back in the day?"
Murmurs and speculation rippled through the spectators.
Nearby, Victor and Drayden had already returned. Victor had rallied his old loyalists, fully determined to protect Vio and Feng Che during the Dragon Festival at all costs—even if it meant committing treason and breaking away from the Dragon Clan.
After all, Vio and Feng Che were the only family he had left.
Right then, an encrypted comm channel buzzed on Vio's device. He tried to ignore it, but the device chimed relentlessly. When he finally connected, an aged voice rasped through the speaker.
"Vio, word has reached me that you have returned to the ancestral lands to enter the Dragon Festival."
It was the Dragon Clan's Grand Elder—and Vio's uncle.
"No, I haven't. I didn't. Stop talking nonsense," Vio fired off three rapid denials in a single breath.
"Save your breath; Victor told me everything," the Grand Elder said. "You've got nerve. Twenty years ago, you stood before the entire clan and renounced your bloodline. And now, twenty years later, you dare to return, even fighting Feng Che right in the middle of the Dragon Festival? If Victor hadn't spotted you, I'd still be in the dark about your return."
The old man paused, his tone softening with resolve. "Rest assured, I will handle the fallout. Expelling you twenty years ago is a regret I have carried every single day. I am truly glad to see you come home."
With that, the Grand Elder hung up.
A dark scowl crossed Vio's face, a massive question mark practically hovering over his head.
"What on earth did Victor tell him? I never had any intention of returning to the Dragon Clan!" Vio fumed, his voice thick with frustration. "Has the old man completely lost his mind with age? What's done is done—you can't just scoop up spilled water!"
He attempted to dial back, only to find the frequency locked.
Meanwhile, the Grand Elder set down his communicator and nodded toward the gathered kinsmen around him.
"Victor was right. That boy Vio has indeed returned," he declared. "Vio was meant to be our next Clan Leader, yet he was stripped of his birthright all because Feng Che went missing. Look at what has become of our Unova branch under Drayden's rule—we dwindle by the day! Under Drayden's relentless suppression, our influence has withered to almost nothing. Tell me, are you willing to accept this?"
"Never! We refuse to accept it!" the gathered clan members roared in unison.
"Then take up your strongest Pokémon and follow me to the Dragon Festival!" the Grand Elder commanded fiercely. "I have caught wind that the Second Elder plans to make his move during the ceremonies. We cannot let that old snake usurp the clan's legitimate lineage!"
Deep within the shadows of Team Plasma's hidden facility.
Colress stood before a massive containment vat, immersed in his research on Kyurem. Floating within the nutrient-rich fluid was an organic tissue sample taken from the legendary dragon.
Ghetsis strode in hastily.
"Colress, what is the status of the Kyurem project?" Ghetsis demanded, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
"With only a partial tissue sample, extracting an intact cellular matrix is impossible," Colress answered without turning around. "Cloning Kyurem would not only demand astronomical resources, but it strictly requires its core genetic material."
His fingers danced across the console, pulling up a dense checklist of data.
"These are the essential components required to synthesize Kyurem. A portion of the rarest materials can only be found within Unova's Dragon's Den. Gathering them on a large scale will inevitably provoke the Dragon Clan," Colress remarked with a faint frown.
"Let them be provoked. The Dragon Clan won't exist for much longer anyway," Ghetsis sneered, a sinister smirk tugging at his lips. "They are already tearing themselves apart from within. Once we recover N and reclaim Reshiram, we will crush what remains of them. For now, let the bullet fly—let them burn in their own chaos."
Back in the arena.
"Kommo-o, use Scale Shot!"
Countless palm-sized, golden scales burst from Kommo-o's armor, hurtling toward the white Gyarados like a barrage of gilded shrapnel.
Gyarados moved with effortless mastery over the wind. With a sweep of its coils, the howling squalls formed a dense atmospheric barrier, the immense wind resistance grinding the incoming scales to a dead halt.
Glaring down at Kommo-o, Gyarados channeled the swirling currents and reversed the gale, flinging the barrage of golden scales straight back at its sender with ferocious momentum.
Faced with the lethal storm of its own reflected scales, Kommo-o curled into a tight sphere, spinning at blinding speed to form an impenetrable defensive barrier.
A deafening cascade of metallic clangs rang across the arena. Kommo-o acted like a high-speed grinder, deflecting and pulverizing the returning scales on impact, reducing them to glittering dust.
"Now that's what I call a slick maneuver," Feng Che remarked under his breath.
"Kommo-o, use Snarl! Tear through those winds!"
Feng Che clamped his fists tight, veins bulging against the back of his hands. Finding his wife and child hinged entirely on this battle; he would not yield an inch.
Kommo-o drew deep into its lungs, squared its shoulders, and unleashed an earth-shattering roar.
Amplified by the swirling gale, the concussive sound waves erupted outward in violent ripples. Around the ring, spectators cried out, clutching their ears and dropping to their knees.
"My ears! I can't hear anything!"
"Gods, it's piercing my skull!"
"What is the arena staff doing? Where are the barrier wards?!"
Complaints and cries of pain erupted from the stands.
Up in the air, the white Gyarados faltered, its massive serpentine body swaying drunkenly as the concussive roar hammered its senses. It saw stars, reeling as though struck by a barrage of colossal warhammers.
Rocking unsteadily through the turbulent air, Gyarados shook its massive head against the deafening ringing in its ears, its hearing completely shattered by the blast.