Houndour blinked at Ethan's command, a little stunned.
What did that mean, exactly?
It clearly hit a gap in the pup's instincts — but it still obeyed. Instead of swirling the ambient flames into a vortex, Houndour focused on the serpent's position, then spat fire from its own jaws, weaving it into a Fire Spin that wrapped the Ekans inside.
As the vortex whirled, it tugged at the surrounding flame curtain, pulling those tongues of fire inward. In seconds, the blaze condensed into a roaring red cyclone, three meters high and more than two meters across — the unlucky Ekans trapped at its heart.
A few revolutions later, cooked by the heat and dazed by the spin, the snake went limp and fainted.
Only then did Ethan drop from the tree and rush to Houndour's side.
The Poison Sting had grazed Houndour's neck; the fur there had gone greenish-black beneath the skin. The pup's steps wobbled, its head swimming with venom. It shook itself hard, fighting the fog.
"Houndour, pull the flames back first — I'll treat you right away!"
The Fire Spin dissipated, but the ground fire kept crawling, licking through dry needles. In a blink, the blaze had run ten meters. If they didn't act, the ridge was done for.
"Houn…"Houndour heard the urgency in his voice. It gave a reassuring yip, lifted its head with pride — I've got this — and sprinted a tight circuit. With Flash Fire stoked, the flames seemed to answer its call, drawing into its body as it ran. The nascent wildfire snuffed out.
As the heat flowed into it, Houndour perked up; the poison still lingered, but its legs steadied.
Ethan flipped open the wrist HUD and jabbed [Swap].
"Antidote."
A window popped up. Price: 100 energy. Steep, but a life-saver. He tapped Buy.
A small, palm-size spray canister popped into reality. Ethan caught it, snapped the cap, and misted the puncture on Houndour's neck.
The sickly color faded quickly. Houndour barked twice, bright-eyed again.
"A universal Antidote," Ethan muttered, eyeing the label. "Just like the Poké Mart stuff in the games. Absolute steal."
In the real world, Antidotes were expensive and specific; each nasty venom needed a tailored counter. If a Poison-type had refined its toxins, you needed custom work. Reason number one nobody wanted to run into Poison-types in the wild.
He pocketed the spray and jogged with Houndour back to the spot where they'd found blood.
"Can you pick up the trail again?"
"Houn!"Houndour hesitated a heartbeat—heat had muddled the scents—but found a direction and trotted on. Ethan exhaled and followed.
Maybe because they'd been standing in heat for so long, Ethan didn't notice how strange the air felt; the forest was hotter than it should've been.
They pressed deeper, moving faster. Years of running hills paid off; Ethan didn't stumble, and Houndour flowed ahead like smoke.
Cresting a low rise, Houndour suddenly flattened, tail flicking. Ethan dropped beside it and belly-crawled to the lip, peering down into a hollow.
Webbing quilted the valley floor, a pale lattice curled like a silk reel. A cluster of large, green spiders huddled together, half a meter tall — about Houndour's height, but bulkier.
Spinarak. Bug/Poison — exactly the kind of early partner Ethan had once considered as a starter.
"Are Dad and Shadow down there?"
Houndour shook hard. Ethan breathed again.
"Blocking our path, then? Can't we just go around?"
Another shake; then the pup pursed its muzzle toward the webbed slope. Ethan followed its gaze.
The Spinarak were gathered before a slope sheeted in silk — not two cocoons, but an entire face of rock plastered white.
Wait. Not a wall— a curtain.
Sweat prickled Ethan's back — nerves and heat. "They're inside that? There's a space behind it?"
Houndour nodded.
"One… two… three… seven. No Ariados. Levels… four to six," Ethan whispered, checking with his bracelet. "We can take this group."
"Your show, Houndour."
"Houn!" The little hellhound bared its teeth, all fight.
"On my mark — go!"
Houndour bounded down the slope, landing in the hollow in three light leaps.
The intruder snapped every eye their way. Spinarak turned as one, spitting String Shot.
"Ember — cut a path! Ignite the silk!"
Houndour ran and spat, beads of fire skittering down the lines. The web flared, flames racing along the strands back into Spinarak mouths.
Some were quick enough to bite their threads, others screeched as the fire nipped their lips.
Bugs fear fire.
Webbing latticed the valley at a dozen points — traps for prey, now kindling for Ethan.
"Light every web. Turn the hollow into a sea of fire!"
He hated to admit it, but after the first blaze, the tactic felt… efficient. Terrible and effective.
Heat rolled over the Spinarak; their predator's flame made them cower, trembling flat to the stone.
"Sssss… sss…"A hoarse rasp came from the cluster — the largest Spinarak, eyes flicking from the fireline to the silk-faced slope behind them.
Something important lay beyond that curtain. If they stayed, they'd burn. If they left, they lost what they were guarding.
Fire crept higher. Between the flames stood a black hound, horned and implacable — a demon in the blaze.
Go. Live. Protect the clutch.
The leader rasped a command, and the Spinarak retreated toward the edge where flames hadn't reached.
Houndour tensed to pursue—
"Hold! Don't chase. Control the fire. Ring the cave mouth so they can't come back."
Houndour drew the line of flames tight around the silk curtain. Heat peeled the webbing away, revealing a newly-dug cave.
Ethan ran to it. "Hear that? Meow… meow…?"
A soft, uneasy cry drifted from within.
"There's a Pokémon inside?"
"Houndour!"
The pup slid in front, leading him into the dark.
Wrong. The moment they crossed the threshold, the heat slammed into them. The air had to be 60°C at least — far beyond what a little valley fire could make.
The tunnel was short. By phone light, Ethan saw the end: a stone dais, and on it, a Pokémon egg marbled with fiery red.
Below the dais, two bodies cocooned in vines. From the size, Dad and Shadow. Ethan tore the cocoons open.
Both were unconscious. Dad's shirt was shredded; through the tears, ugly green-black streaks marred his skin.
"Poisoned," Ethan breathed — then saw his father's chest move. He exhaled shakily.
"Miah… miah…"
A fluffball wriggled out from under Dad's arm, bobbing on the hot air. It drifted to Ethan, leaf-hands flapping anxiously, then looked back at Mark Rivers and cried again — cheeks tinged purple.
"Cottonee," Ethan said.
No time to analyze. He popped the Antidote and misted it into Cottonee's mouth twice — no visible puncture, so oral would have to do.
He moved to Dad, sprayed every puncture he could find. He checked the pockets — no Pecha Berries left. Good; that meant Dad had used them earlier.
Most wounds were needle pricks, not bites — likely Spinarak Stringers or Ekans stings. Shadow had Pecha on his breath; the pup had clung to life. Ethan gave Shadow a careful Antidote spray too.
"Miah… miah…"Cottonee perked almost immediately and hovered over Dad, fretting. Ethan noticed something odd — faint bite marks where blood had been squeezed from the skin.
He scanned Cottonee with the bracelet: Absorb in its move list. Of course — it had drawn poisoned blood to the surface for Dad and taken the toxin itself. No wonder it was sick without any puncture wounds.
Shadow and Cottonee had saved his father's life.
The cave's heat pulsed from the egg on the dais, but Ethan shelved the mystery for now.
"Houndour, Cottonee — help me get Shadow out!"
Houndour had been staring at the egg, something primal tugging in its chest. At Ethan's call, it tore its gaze away, gently took Shadow by the scruff, and dragged him toward the mouth.
Cottonee fluttered, tugging at Shadow's tail, though its eyes kept flicking to Dad — which, Ethan admitted, made him a tiny bit jealous.
So Dad goes out once and stumbles on a mystery Fire-type egg and earns a rare Cottonee's devotion? If he were ten years younger he'd debut as a trainer on the spot. And me? What would that make me — the grandson of Arceus?
…
It took everything they had, but with Houndour and Cottonee's help, Ethan hauled his 70-kilo father onto a shaded slope in the hollow. Cottonee fanned its leaves, sending a weak breeze over Mark's flushed face.
No water up here, and Ethan hadn't brought any. Dad and the two Pokémon needed fluids fast.
He glanced at the golden finger again. The old Poké Mart sold healing drinks…
"Drinks," he said to the HUD.
A menu popped:
Berry Juice — 2 / literFresh Water — 5 / literSoda Pop — 8 / literLemonade — 10 / literMoomoo Milk — 15 / liter
Prices… manageable, maybe. Measured in liters — good enough for a round. Ethan chose Berry Juice — Oran/Pecha blend; light detox, quick stamina bump, best value.
He dosed all three. Cottonee perked to full, Shadow's eyes opened — groggy but okay. He couldn't move yet, but he wagged weakly at Ethan, then relaxed when he saw Mark sleeping steadily.
"You did great, boy," Ethan whispered. "Rest."
Shadow sighed and drifted out again.
The green-black blotches on Mark's skin faded, swelling subsided, color returned to his cheeks, and his cracked lips pinked up. Relief washed through Ethan like cool rain.
"Alright," he said softly. "Now let's see what kind of egg that is."
"An egg that pumps out this kind of heat, that pulls Houndour like a magnet and had a whole Spinarak nest guarding it… what are you?"
"Fire/Poison? Fire/Bug?" He narrowed his eyes at the cave mouth. "Not many Pokémon fit those combos… and whatever it is, it doesn't belong on this ridge."