"Typhlosion is Fire-type, while Tyranitar is Rock and Dark dual-type. Using Water-type Pokémon to counter them should yield good results." Brock calmly analyzed the matchup for Yozora.
Yozora nodded in agreement.
Studying an opponent's information before the match and then constructing a targeted lineup was always an important step.
Of course, the deciding factor was still level.
If the level wasn't high enough, no matter how advantageous the type matchup looked, it would make little difference.
Since the opponent was strong enough, Yozora had to give them the respect they deserved. He began thinking seriously about his lineup—he would need to bring in more members of his "First Team."
On the other side, Leiming leaned over his computer, sipping a steaming cup of coffee as he researched Yozora's information.
But Yozora was still new. Having just risen to prominence, the media coverage on him remained limited…
"Yozora, male, sixteen years old, from Pallet Town in Kanto. Rookie Trainer. Known to use Pokémon such as Golduck, Aegislash, Graveler, and a Golden Magikarp…" Leiming murmured as he scrolled through the pages, enjoying the aroma of his coffee.
"Impressive. To make it this far as a rookie is no small feat. Calling him a genius wouldn't be an exaggeration."
Leiming gave a nod of approval. He remembered Yozora's previous two matches well. Both Golduck and Aegislash had performed exceptionally.
"But at the end of the day, he's still just a rookie. Even if his Golduck and Aegislash are strong, at best they're Lord-tier. Nothing to worry about."
Leiming smirked, closing Yozora's information page before moving on to browse other competitors he found interesting.
The night passed quietly.
The next morning, the second round of the Indigo League's main tournament finally began.
"Oh! Ryūnan's Flygon is incredible! In the blink of an eye, A.J. is already down to his last Pokémon. How will he respond?" The commentator's voice echoed through the stadium.
Round Two.
A.J. had run into Ryūnan, and in terms of raw strength, Ryūnan's dominance was overwhelming.
At this point, Ryūnan still had three Pokémon remaining, including Flygon.
A.J., however, was left with only his final choice.
"Go, Sandslash!"
As expected, A.J. sent out his last hope. The moment the referee signaled the match to begin, A.J. struck first.
It was Poison Sting!
Sandslash curled into a spiked ball and rolled forward, launching volley after volley of sharp, venomous needles up toward the hovering Flygon.
But against Sandslash's Poison Sting, Flygon remained completely unshaken, darting about with ease.
"Dodge it, then use Dragon Breath!" Ryūnan commanded.
Flygon swerved smoothly, then unleashed a roaring blast of dragonfire that slammed into Sandslash.
The level gap, combined with Flygon's aerial advantage, was simply insurmountable.
After enduring several blasts of Dragon Breath, Sandslash collapsed face-first to the ground.
"Sandslash is unable to battle! Flygon wins!" the referee announced, as cheers erupted from the crowd.
"The match is over! A.J. has no remaining Pokémon. Ryūnan takes the victory and advances to the Top 8!"
"Congratulations to Ryūnan!" the commentator boomed with praise.
Three Pokémon against six—Ryūnan had easily crushed A.J. His overwhelming strength was undeniable.
"This year's rookies are ferocious! Truly, the younger generation surpasses the old!"
As Ryūnan and A.J. exited the field, the commentator marveled aloud before turning to invite the next competitors.
Yozora and Leiming stepped onto the stage.
Leiming was tall and powerfully built, his short hair cropped neatly. Dressed in sharp training gear with a faint stubble on his jaw, he carried an aura of decisiveness and raw power.
Yozora, too, stood tall and striking. Over the past year he had tanned under the sun, but compared to Leiming, his youthful face still seemed a touch inexperienced.
"It's finally starting," Ash muttered excitedly from the stands, with Brock nodding beside him.
A full 6-on-6. This was going to be a long and grueling battle.
Ash longed for the chance to fight on such a stage himself—but he had already been eliminated.
"Bang! Bang!"
At the referee's signal, both Trainers threw out their first Poké Balls.
Yozora sent out Nidoking.
Leiming countered with Ursaring.
Ursaring resembled a hulking brown bear, standing upright like a man with a yellow ring on its chest—the source of its name.
Leiming's Ursaring looked particularly ferocious, towering at nearly two meters tall. Its broad, muscular arms radiated raw power.
[Nidoking] (Poison + Ground): Mid Lord-tier. Tier-3 Legendary potential.[Ursaring] (Normal): High Lord-tier. Lord-tier potential.
"They're here! Nidoking versus Ursaring! This looks like it's going to be a battle of brute strength!" the commentator shouted with excitement as the two Pokémon squared off.
"As expected of someone who reached the Top 8 of the Silver Conference. To open with a Pokémon at such a high level is remarkable." Yozora muttered, glancing at Ursaring's stats.
But his own lead was no pushover.
Though Nidoking's level wasn't as high, its poison was deadly.
Even if the opponent's Ursaring was High Lord-tier—or even Gym Leader-level—Yozora had absolute faith in Nidoking's venom.
The referee signaled, and the battle began in earnest. Leiming's eyes gleamed sharply as he called out first:
"Ursaring! Charge in with Ice Punch!"
"Roooaaar!"
Ursaring let out a feral roar as it thundered forward, raising its right fist high. Icy air condensed instantly, and within moments, its fist gleamed with a chilling light.
But Ursaring's bulky body betrayed it. Despite its power, its speed was lacking.
Its charge gave Yozora and Nidoking ample time to react.
"Nidoking, Poison Sting!" Yozora commanded.
Nidoking lowered its stance, turning its spiny back toward the charging Ursaring.
"Shoooosh!"
A storm of sharp white needles erupted from Nidoking's back, pelting Ursaring in a relentless barrage.
In mere moments, Ursaring looked like a walking pincushion, bellowing in pain.
Poison Sting itself wasn't a particularly strong attack—it barely pierced Ursaring's thick hide, and the raw damage was minimal.
But the venom coursing through each barb was another matter entirely.
Within seconds, dark purple blotches spread across Ursaring's body.
Its movements faltered, sweat pouring down its face as agony twisted its expression.
In the games, poison or badly poisoned status merely meant losing HP every turn.
But in reality, poison didn't just sap life—it paralyzed nerves, dulled reflexes, and drained strength.
Ursaring had already been clumsy. Now, crippled by deadly venom, it grew even slower, more sluggish, and unbearably heavy.
(End of Chapter)