Half a month slipped by quickly. Sieg checked out of the Pokémon Center and returned once more to the small desert patch within the Plains.
There, hidden away in a sandpit that wouldn't easily draw attention, seven freshly grown Sandile pups peered about in confusion, their dark eyes glinting with curiosity.
The sandpit wasn't large, barely a hundred square meters, but even so, it would have taken several strong men days to dig it out by hand.
Here, Sieg began what he called his "Battle Royale" plan.
Of course, it could hardly be considered true Battle Royale. There were only very few participants after all, only seven Pokémon in total. Normally, Battle Royale involved dozens, hundreds, even thousands. Compared to that, what Sieg was doing was more like filtering, carefully choosing the strongest among them.
The survival of the fittest.
Naturally, Sieg wouldn't let them fight to the death. After all, these weren't poison-type Pokémon who could grow stronger by devouring toxins from one another. Besides, Sandile hatchlings could be sold for a high price. With their decent potential, each one could easily fetch over two hundred thousand Pokédollars.
He only intended to raise them under pressure, selecting the strongest to nurture as his own, while also giving them early combat experience. There was no reason to throw money away.
Sieg observed quietly for a long time. The Sandiles didn't show any intention of fighting among themselves, so he tossed in a slab of bloody meat.
It came from a wild Pokémon he had hunted earlier.
As expected, the instant the meat hit the ground, the seven Sandile caught the scent and rushed over, devouring it like beasts starved for days.
Their sharp teeth tore bloody chunks, crunching them down. Blood trickled from their mouths into the sand, staining the pit with crimson blotches.
Coupled with their frenzied, cloud-devouring way of eating, the entire scene was savage, terrifying to behold.
There was no doubt that each of these young Pokémon had inherited their parents' bloodthirsty nature. Even though they were still young, cruelty and ferocity already flowed in their veins.
Their innate wildness made Sieg smile in satisfaction.
On the second day, Sieg began reducing their food supply. Although they still received some meat, dissatisfaction was already spreading among them.
On the third day, he cut their rations further, this time adding a stimulant that heightened emotions. The Sandile finally began scuffling with one another over scraps.
By the fourth day, the food was cut to a single portion. The Sandile clashed violently, tearing into one another in frenzied battles. Some had already begun to bleed.
On the fifth day, no food at all was given. Starving and restless, the Sandile scratched desperately at the steel plates that surrounded the pit, but there was no escape.
On the sixth day, Sieg tossed in only a small piece of meat. The Sandile snapped, lunging at one another in madness. One of them couldn't endure the assault and collapsed, fainting on the spot.
"What a pity, the first one to fall already," Sieg muttered, coldly watching. He didn't interfere, because he knew this was the only way to ignite the others' primal instincts.
On the seventh day, hunger drove the Sandiles beyond their limits. They turned on their fainted brethren. The fallen hatchling's eyes opened just enough to see its littermates tearing into its flesh.
On the eighth day, every Sandile understood, their companions' corpses were food. They eyed one another with suspicion, the innocence in their gaze gone, replaced with merciless bloodlust.
On the ninth day, one finally made the first move. The pit erupted in chaos. Fangs clashed against scales, claws raked against flesh. Blood sprayed as they fought with everything they had, their wild instincts laid bare.
By the tenth day, the victor finally emerged. Standing atop the bodies of its siblings, bloodied and covered in hideous scars, the last Sandile let out a guttural hiss. Its back was the most horrifying sight, scales that were once like iron had been stripped away, leaving only broken fragments clinging to its body.
Sieg looked down at it from the edge of the pit. It was the very first one to hatch, its ability being Moxie, and it had inherited four moves.
Fueled by Moxie, the longer it fought, the fiercer it became. Combined with its natural talent, it alone had survived.
"You didn't disappoint me," Sieg said, the corner of his lips curling upward.
He exchanged its Poké Ball for a Luxury Ball, marking it as one of his official main team members.
As for the others, whether fainted or dead, Sieg packed them up. They would fetch a price in the black market, nothing more than waste put to final use.
"Come out, drink this," Sieg said, releasing the survivor.
He held out a special potion he had prepared a while ago. Once consumed, the Sandile's potential would grow, especially its affinity with the ground element.
The hatchling snapped the vial between its jaws, swallowing the earthy-colored liquid as the sound of breaking glass echoed in the pit.
A faint earthen aura wrapped around the Sandile's body. Sieg bent down with a grin.
"Sandile, welcome to my team."
By dusk, the sun dipped beneath the horizon, its orange glow spreading across the land. Trainers in the wild began making their way back toward the cities, for nightfall outside was perilous.
On the outskirts near Mauville Town, a young man in simple trainer attire walked along. His features were clean and sharp. At his side trotted an Umbreon, while above his head circled a black Murkrow.
By his feet, a small Sandile followed tightly. It was so tiny that without close attention, one might not even notice it.
After giving the Sandile some simple treatment, Sieg had brought it into the desert to spar against wild Pokémon for training.
This area was close to the town, so most wild Pokémon here were low-leveled, ranging from a few levels to around ten.
"Caw, caw..."
Murkrow flapped its wings, returning from a scouting flight. It landed on Sieg's shoulder and shook its head, signaling that it hadn't found any prey.
"You worked hard, Murkrow."
Sieg handed it a Pokéblock to replenish its energy.
Still, doubt nagged at him. Normally, wild Pokémon were plentiful here. Had all the Weedle been purged?
Or perhaps, more likely, this area had been claimed by a powerful Pokémon or even an entire tribe, forcing weaker Pokémon to flee and leave behind a dead zone.
As Sieg turned to leave in disappointment, planning to find another training ground, something rolled toward him, a small blue sphere, followed by a beam of purple light.
Before Sieg could react, the blue sphere suddenly unfurled, revealing a stubby trunk that smashed the purple beam to pieces.
"A Phanpy?" Sieg blinked in surprise.
These Pokémon were normally found in rocky mountain regions, most commonly in Johto. While some scattered groups existed elsewhere, their numbers were rare, making them especially sought-after.