An ordinary Trainer caught in such a bind would have panicked, helpless against the sonic onslaught, and conceded the match right then and there.
Feng Che, however, was anything but ordinary. He possessed psychic abilities.
Reaching out with Telepathy, Feng Che spoke directly into the mind of the white Gyarados.
Gyarados, purge all the air from around your ears. Create a vacuum.
Without air to conduct the vibrations, Kommo-o's Snarl was rendered completely toothless against a localized vacuum.
Now, use Aqua Ring.
Even though this Gyarados had awakened a secondary Flying typing, it remained a Water-type Pokémon at its core. It had never lost its capacity for water-based restorative arts.
Glistening veils of water surged forth, enveloping Gyarados's serpentine form. Under the gentle nourishment of the aqueous ring, its ruptured eardrums began to knit back together.
Across the field, Kommo-o's muscular frame swelled slightly as a surge of combative energy washed over it. Mixed into that earlier Snarl had been the effects of Noble Roar.
This Gyarados's wind manipulation is absurd, Feng Lu thought grimly. My Kommo-o can't even get close. Catching it off guard with Snarl worked once, but now that it's on guard, landing another clean hit won't be easy.
There's only one move left.
Feng Lu made a silent, resolute decision.
"Kommo-o, bring out your ultimate technique! Use Clanging Scales!"
Kommo-o began violently grinding its armor plates against one another, unleashing a rapid, piercing metallic clatter.
The screech grew exponentially louder, rippling outward in harsh, rhythmic pulses. Spectators caught within earshot visibly winced, clenching their teeth as waves of inexplicable agitation washed over them.
I see, Feng Che analyzed coolly. Clanging Scales weaponizes a specific frequency—almost like infrasonic vibration—to bypass physical defenses and strike directly at internal organs.
Too bad for him, that trick won't work on my Gyarados.
With complete control over the surrounding air, creating a vacuum barrier is second nature to it. Not a single decibel of that discordant screech can reach its ears.
In that case... why not beat him at his own game?
Seeing that Kommo-o had already spent a fair amount of stamina, Feng Che deliberately had Gyarados—still in prime fighting condition—feign agonizing pain from the sound assault.
Writhing dramatically in mid-air, the great white serpent began to lose altitude, spiraling downward as if on the verge of collapse.
"Now's our chance! The Clanging Scales worked!" Feng Lu's eyes flashed. "Kommo-o, Dragon Claw!"
Kommo-o unsheathed its razor-sharp talons and lunged forward, executing a vicious downward cleave toward the falling Gyarados.
Up in the distant stands, Vio tracked every movement through his binoculars and sighed.
"Feng Lu fell for it hook, line, and sinker. That Gyarados hasn't been affected at all."
Vio shook his head in disappointment.
"The serpent's acting is far too melodramatic. A Gyarados genuinely struck by Clanging Scales would show progressive irritation, its eyes bloodshot, slowly deteriorating into blind, irrational fury—it's a gradual breakdown. Feng Lu simply lacks real battle experience. He walked straight into a carefully laid trap."
As the true Trainer of that Kommo-o, Vio knew its exact limits. While the scaled dragon appeared somewhat worn on the outside, its core reserves were still running strong. Handled properly, turning the tables on Gyarados would have been well within reach.
"Everything rides on whether Feng Lu can see through the ploy. If he adapts and turns the counter-trap back on the opponent, he still has a shot."
Vio rubbed his throbbing temples. His son hadn't inherited an ounce of true tactical genius; even after pushing him to his limits, Feng Lu had barely scraped into the Elite Four tier. Keeping him afloat had exhausted practically all of Vio's patience.
As the white Gyarados plummeted, a massive swirl of water coiled tightly around its tail, priming an Aqua Tail. Because Gyarados was already enveloped in the veil of Aqua Ring, Feng Lu failed to notice the lethal current gathering at its tail.
The moment Kommo-o closed in with Dragon Claw bared, Gyarados whipped its massive tail around, driving an Aqua Tail straight into the dragon with crushing momentum.
A torrent of pressurized water slammed into Kommo-o. To its credit, the dragon's instincts were sharp—it threw itself into a desperate, ungraceful roll along the dirt, dissipating the worst of the concussive force.
Yet Gyarados had already achieved its true objective.
Snapping its jaws wide, Gyarados exhaled a torrent of bone-chilling frost.
The bitter cold enveloped Kommo-o instantly, flash-freezing it into a solid block of ice.
"It's over. Kommo-o has completely lost the initiative," Vio groaned, pressing a palm to his forehead. "Feng Lu simply cannot draw out Kommo-o's true potential. Honestly, once he finds his lost son, I'd rather test the boy to see if he inherited any talent as a Trainer."
Vio had practically written off his son's competitive career as a failed project; his only hope now lay in cultivating his grandson.
Beside Vio, his own Kommo-o let out a low, indignant rumble, deeply offended on behalf of its kin down in the arena.
Vio patted its arm to soothe its irritation. "Peace, girl, peace. Once Feng Lu's son is brought home, I'll evaluate the boy's potential. I'll make sure your kin is placed in the hands of a proper Trainer who won't bring shame to your species."
With that, Vio raised the binoculars once more to monitor the ring.
Down on the battlefield, a web of hairline cracks spread across the icy prison. With a deafening crack, the ice shattered outward, showering the arena floor with jagged frost.
Panting heavily, Kommo-o dragged itself out of the debris. Its complexion was ghastly pale, and large patches of severe frostbite mottled its armored hide.
Damn it... that was a misplay on my part, Feng Lu thought, his chest tightening. Kommo-o is already suffering from frostbite. The momentum has completely shifted against me.
At the end of the day, Kommo-o had only been lent to him by his father; they lacked the deep synchronization born from years of shared battle.
"Kommo-o, use Dragon Fist!"
Resolved to stake everything on one blow, Feng Lu channeled a massive surge of his Dragon Force into Kommo-o's body. Infused with the draconic energy, the beast's frostbitten wounds began to visibly stabilize.
Up in the stands, Vio's face twisted in sheer disbelief and rage.
"That absolute moron! Can't he see the opponent hasn't even touched their Dragon Force yet?!"
Watching his son burn through vast reserves of Dragon Force so prematurely made Vio's blood boil.
"I swear, I refuse to claim that idiot as my flesh and blood," Vio fumed, almost tempted to put the binoculars away entirely. Watching Feng Lu battle was enough to shave years off his life.
Meanwhile, Victor's eyes widened as they locked onto Kommo-o.
"That's... Dragon Fist?!"
It was an original technique devised by his elder brother, one Vio had demonstrated to him over two decades ago.
Dragon Fist combines Dragon Force with the explosive kinetic impact of Close Combat and the raw power of Dragon Pulse, condensing catastrophic destructive power into a single fist. When unleashed, the shockwave roars forth like a horde of charging dragons.
There's no mistake about it—that man must be my brother, Vio! And the one facing him has to be his son, Feng Lu!
To think Feng Lu has grown this formidable...
A sudden, stinging wave of embarrassment hit Victor square in the face.
Only moments ago, Drayden had repeatedly questioned whether that man was Feng Lu, and Victor had adamantly, stubbornly sworn that it couldn't possibly be him.
The sheer humiliation was enough to make his toes curl so hard he felt like he could have dug out the foundations of a luxury villa.
Beside him, Drayden's gaze hardened as well—he, too, had recognized the signature technique that belonged solely to Vio.