The war in the Unova region had fully erupted.
The two princes of the Kingdom of Eindoak officially clashed across the plains outside Castelia City, drawing in countless humans and Pokémon alike.
The kingdom's southern coast was dominated by wide, open plains, prime land with excellent positioning and abundant resources. With that advantage, the eldest prince, Landon, had gathered a fearsome power base and a deep bench of capable commanders.
Against his younger brother's forces, Landon chose to fight on multiple fronts.
The flames of war spread with terrifying speed. Wherever the iron hooves of his two-hundred-thousand-strong army marched, villages vanished, forests were trampled into ruin, and entire settlements disappeared from the map as though they had never existed.
Facing Landon's army, the second prince, Lance, was at a disadvantage in human numbers, yet he had something Landon didn't.
Pokémon.
Countless Pokémon rallied to his banner, forming a powerful Pokémon legion to resist the invasion and bring an end to the conflict.
Watching them, Lance felt more convinced than ever that the road he had chosen was the right one.
Compared to these straightforward, kind-hearted Pokémon… the humans who enslaved them were nothing but hypocrites.
...
A detachment under Lance's command had been stationed at Nimbasa, roughly twenty thousand soldiers, ordered to defend Nimbasa City. Scouts had confirmed it: the First Prince's army was on its way, and this garrison was expected to hold the line.
"My lord," a subordinate reported anxiously, "scouts estimate the enemy force at over fifty thousand! More than twice our numbers. I'm afraid we won't be able to hold the city!"
On the wall, a tall, imposing middle-aged commander stared toward the desolate horizon, his expression grim.
"Have the reinforcements arrived yet?" he asked.
Before the subordinate could answer, a voice came from behind.
"My lord, the reinforcements are here! And there's a letter from Prince Lance!"
Surprise flickered across the faces around him.
The commander opened the letter. As his eyes moved over the contents, his body went stiff.
Prince Lance had dispatched a Pokémon corps of roughly twenty thousand. The letter's orders were explicit: no one was to harm them. Anyone who disobeyed would be executed immediately.
That alone wasn't the issue.
What truly enraged him was the rest.
Those Pokémon were being given better food and better treatment than his own human soldiers.
His Highness, what exactly was he thinking?
Before he could dwell on it further, another report came in, urgent.
"The enemy has reached the gates!"
Without hesitation, the commander led his troops out to meet them. The Pokémon corps advanced as well, joining the clash.
But under the enemy's relentless assault, their lines began to falter. Retreat turned messy, then dangerous.
"Fall back!" the commander shouted. "Defend the city!"
The enemy did not pursue. Instead, they shifted tactics and laid siege.
A stalemate set in.
At first, everyone thought they could endure it.
Then the supply routes were cut.
Food dwindled. Day by day, the human soldiers' rations shrank, until they were nearly gone.
And yet, the Pokémon corps still had plenty.
Starving troops eventually forced their way into the granaries… only to freeze in disbelief.
The Pokémon's stored food wasn't just greater in quantity, it was better in quality, with far more variety than anything the humans were given.
Resentment spread like poison through the ranks. Grumbling turned into open anger, and discipline began to fray.
Military camp
Armored Pokémon sat on the ground in heavy silence, faces blank with exhaustion and numb despair. Behind them stood rows of humans gripping long whips.
A few Pokémon tried to resist.
They were met with blades, and the sting of vine-like whips that snapped hard enough to draw blood.
"Hey. Behave," one handler sneered. "If you don't want to die, you'll fight properly in the next battle."
Another laughed darkly. "You don't want to see your parents and children get hurt, do you?"
Fury flashed across some Pokémon faces. Jaws opened. Claws rose.
Then they saw the cages not far away.
Inside, their loved ones cried and clung to the bars, small bodies trembling, eyes wide with fear.
The raised claws fell.
Mournful cries echoed through the camp, raw and helpless.
"Hmph. That's more like it," the handler said, satisfied. "Now get your heads up. If we win the next battle… maybe I'll let you see your kid again."
"Your Highness… aren't we being a little too cruel?"
From a ridge overlooking the military camp, a minister couldn't hold back the question as he watched the scene below.
The eldest prince, Landon, didn't even blink.
"People who accomplish great things don't waste time worrying over trifles," he said coldly. "And don't forget, every year, countless citizens of this kingdom lose their lives because of magical beasts."
He turned slightly, voice hard as iron.
"Humans and magical beasts are fundamentally different. We were never meant to coexist. If we don't conquer them, then one day we'll be the ones torn apart in their jaws."
To Landon, the purpose of Pokémon on the battlefield was simple.
Vanguard.
Meat shield.
They existed to bleed first, to grind down the enemy's strength as much as possible.
That was their meaning. Their value.
The war continued to spread, devouring everything in its path.
Villages burned. Forests were reduced to ash and stumps. Families who had lived on the same land for generations stood among the wreckage, staring at what was left of their homes.
A little girl, her face smeared with dust and her eyes swollen red, clutched her mother's hand.
"Mom… our house is gone. What do we do now?"
The woman's throat tightened.
The war had swallowed the entire kingdom. Their home was gone. Their money was gone. Their stored grain, their winter hope, had been looted.
She stared ahead, expression hollow, unable to see a path forward.
The world was so vast… but where did they belong in it?
Mother and daughter joined the river of refugees and began to walk.
They drifted for what felt like forever, passing through village after village, city after city, only to find people just like them: exhausted, hungry, and carrying everything they still owned on their backs.
Then one day, a rumor raced through the crowd like wildfire.
"Prince Lucien of Lucien City says he'll take in refugees! He'll give us shelter!"
Lucien City…?
What kind of place was that?
Hope flickered in the woman's eyes, small, fragile, but real.
If it was true… then maybe they weren't finished.
The refugees turned as one and began heading toward Lucien City.
Along the way, more displaced people joined them. Even Pokémon, lost, abandoned, or fleeing the fighting, fell into step beside the wandering crowd.
In the face of war, human and Pokémon alike were hard to tell apart.
Everyone was a victim.
After an unknown stretch of time, a magnificent castle finally rose from the plains ahead.
And beneath it stood a bustling town, bright, alive, and impossibly orderly.
That was the legendary Lucien City.
The refugees surged forward, excitement breaking through their exhaustion.
But as they reached the outskirts, they slowed… then stopped, hesitation creeping in.
They'd tried to enter towns before. Most had turned them away without a second thought, driving them off like pests.
As the crowd wavered uncertainly, locals noticed their arrival. After confirming who they were, someone hurried over.
"Come with us," the man said, voice firm but kind. "There's a place prepared for resettlement."
They were led to a designated area where food was distributed and clean water was handed out, real water, not muddy dregs.
"Don't worry," Lena said softly as she looked over the exhausted group. "You're safe now. Everything will be alright."
Lucien City was short-staffed, and she'd been assigned to help receive the refugees, people who'd lost everything, and had nowhere else to go.
"There aren't enough houses for everyone in the territory right now," Lena said, "but don't worry, we'll build more as quickly as we can. This is where we used to stay ourselves. Please rest here for the time being."
With food, water, and a roof over their heads, the refugees were already grateful beyond words. They thanked her again and again.
But Lena only shook her head with a gentle smile.
"There's no need to thank me. This was all arranged by His Highness Lucien. He knew you would come, so he had us prepare food and clean water in advance."
His Highness Lucien…
"Please, then convey our gratitude to His Highness!" the crowd said, moved by a prince they had never even met.
Lena nodded. "I will. But His Highness isn't in the territory right now. It may take some time before he returns."
Not here?
The refugees froze.
"Where did our lord go?" someone asked, unable to hide the anxiety in their voice.
"His Highness is taking care of something very important," Lena explained softly. "When he's finished, he'll return, and you'll all be able to meet him."
"Will His Highness be in danger?" a little girl in the crowd asked, her voice small.
There was war everywhere. The outside world was terrifying.
Lena crouched, patted the girl's head, and gently wiped the dust from her cheek.
"His Highness is very capable. He'll be fine," she said. "If you're worried, then pray for him before you sleep tonight."
"I will!" the girl nodded hard.
After the refugees were settled, Lena returned to the hospital.
"Still no news of His Highness?" she asked, looking at her sister.
Celina shook her head.
It had been seven days since His Highness left the territory.
Seven days ago, Lucien had entrusted all internal affairs to His Majesty, then departed on his dragon Pokémon, vanishing without a single message since.
The silence left both Lena and Celina uneasy.
If something happened to His Highness…
Neither of them dared to imagine the consequences.
"Don't worry," Celina said, as if she were reassuring her sister, and herself. "His Highness will definitely return safely."
Inside the castle, the old king stared at the letter in his hand, shock written plainly across his face.
In just seven days…
Undella Town, Lacunosa Village, Icirrus City, Opelucid City, and Village Bridge had already submitted.
Whether their local lords had truly surrendered out of loyalty or simple fear didn't matter, at least in name; the entire eastern side of the kingdom had fallen under their control.
Lucien…
How had he done it?
"Your Majesty," Elif said, eyes bright with disbelief, "His Highness is extraordinary, especially for his age."
Elif had been worried at first. Now it seemed those worries had been pointless.
"I wonder where that child is now…" the old king murmured.
Meanwhile, in Twin Dragon City
Outside the castle, the enemy army had already reached the gates.
From the walls of the city, Lord Sharon stared down at the dark mass of troops spreading across the plains. His expression was grim.
"My lord," Butler Kran said tensely, "their commander is the kingdom's number one warrior, General Worth."
General Worth's reputation was infamous. He was said to have defeated several powerful Pokémon on his own, carving his name into the kingdom's history with raw strength and bloodshed.
"Hmph." Sharon's eyes narrowed. "Prince Landon thinks highly of me, sending him to take Twin Dragon City."
He let out a cold laugh, then turned slightly. "Fortunately, Prince Lance made preparations in advance. Kran, open the gates."
"Yes, my lord!"
Kran raised a hand. Below, the soldiers heaved the mechanisms into motion, and the city gates began to creak open.
The next instant, armored Pokémon surged out like a steel tide.
On the plains, General Worth sat astride a Zebstrika, a greatsword resting against his shoulder. He watched the approaching Pokémon corps without the slightest hint of fear.
Then he lifted his blade high.
"All units, charge with me!"
A thunderous roar answered him. Two black waves collided as both armies surged forward.
They were only moments from impact when the world changed.
The clear sky dimmed, as if a shadow had swallowed the sun. A violent, biting cold rolled across the plain.
Before the charging soldiers could even react, frost burst over them, ice crawling up armor, weapons, and limbs in a blink.
Then a glacial blast swept through.
Human soldiers and Pokémon alike were frozen where they stood, locked into place mid-stride, mid-breath.
Silence fell like a guillotine.
General Worth, still mounted farther back, stared at the frozen battlefield. On the ramparts, Sharon went rigid.
"What… what is this?!" Sharon choked out.
General Worth's eyes narrowed sharply, as if he'd sensed the source. Slowly, he looked up.
High above them floated a colossal figure, an ancient, ice-blue dragon radiating a pressure so cold it felt like it could crush the soul.
Kyurem.
Its golden eyes swept the ground with detached indifference.
Then Worth's pupils tightened.
Because on Kyurem's back, there was a person.
Kyurem descended, stopping at a height where everyone could clearly see the rider's face.
The third prince.
Lucien.
General Worth's expression cracked with disbelief.
Impossible…!
On the walls, Sharon's shock was no less intense.
He recognized that face. Just months ago, he'd visited the man's territory and spoken with him in person.
"My lord," Kran gasped. "That's Prince..!"
"That's Prince Lucien," Sharon said, voice tight.
But even as he spoke, his eyes kept drifting back to Kyurem.
That level of power…
Then they heard it, one voice, carrying from above with absolute authority.
"Stop this war. Submit to me… or die."
...
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