Inside the Grand Arena, Melanie and Alex bowed to the crowd, then exited the stage with their Pokémon in turn.
"It's over already?"
Many spectators felt a pang of regret as they watched the scene unfold.
But soon, the left gate of the arena opened again.
Marching in was a column of soldiers clad in steel armor, swords at their hips, their steps perfectly synchronized.
Beside them strode titanic Pokémon encased in hard armor, silver helms covering their heads—Aggron, looking like armored behemoths!
The immaculate formation told everyone at a glance that this unit was no ordinary force.
"That's Aggron! They guard Nimbasa City! I read about them in the newspaper!"
Someone recognized the Aggron from the reports.
While the crowd was still stunned, the opposite gate of the arena swung open.
Out came another column of soldiers.
This time, however, the Pokémon beside them were not Aggron but sky-blue creatures whose fluffy wings looked as soft and white as cotton.
"That's…"
"Altaria!"
"The evolved form of Swablu! There was an article on them too!"
Yet, watching the two formations below, the audience was puzzled.
Was His Majesty showing off the might of Nimbasa City's Pokémon legions?
The next moment, the two Pokémon armies in the arena moved.
Dozens of Altaria let out melodious cries; in an instant, purple energy gathered at their beaks, forming spheres of light that shot skyward.
"Rumble—!"
Thunder suddenly cracked in the clear sky. The purple radiance spread, covering the heavens in the blink of an eye.
The sky changed in a flash!
Countless massive meteors wreathed in purple flames rained down.
Facing this apocalyptic sight, the spectators' pupils shrank in horror.
"That's…!"
As the meteors drew closer, some people instinctively rose to flee.
But right then, the dozens of Aggron below stepped forward in perfect unison.
They raised their heads, milky-white light gathering in their jaws and merging into a thick beam that blasted skyward.
"Boom—!"
Deafening roars echoed across the firmament.
The falling meteors were crushed mid-air by the sweeping Flash Cannon.
In moments, the sky returned to normal.
Only the stunned, awe-struck audience remained.
The nobles seated at the very front were filled with dread.
That demonstration had let every one of them feel death brush past.
Gross stared in shock, his body trembling slightly.
He dared not imagine…
If such moves were used on a battlefield, their proud soldiers would be obliterated in an instant!
At that instant, Gross and the others lost every thought of defiance.
After the brief shock and terror, the rest of the crowd finally reacted.
They erupted in thunderous cheers, their eyes blazing with fervor.
Outside the stands, seeing his goal achieved, Draconis curled his lips in a smile.
In that case, he wouldn't interfere in the exhibition match to follow.
Sending Kyurem out now would simply be bullying.
"Let's go. Time to prepare the banquet," Draconis said to Alfred.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The exhibition had been a resounding success.
It met the spiritual needs of the territory; after work, people could flock to the Grand Arena for a thrilling Pokémon show.
Ticket money would maintain the venue or be paid as prize money to the performing Trainers, creating a perfect cycle.
Back in the castle, Draconis opened his interface.
Just as expected, the show had brought him nearly a hundred thousand Satisfaction points.
"With this, I can officially unlock the steam engine and begin the industrial age," Draconis thought.
Once steam engines were produced, solving the problems of power and energy, they could build factories and give jobs to refugees and the unemployed.
There was also the steam train to unlock—once rails were laid, Factory goods could be sold to other territories.
That would maximize Nimbasa City's production and trade.
With a mere thought, Draconis officially unlocked steam engine technology.
A flood of data and knowledge on steam tech poured into his mind.
Yet he didn't rush to build; there was one more thing to do first.
Night fell; the castle blazed with lights.
Draconis sat at the head of a huge oaken table laden with a sumptuous feast: fragrant, fluffy white bread, golden roast chicken, tender juicy steaks, peasants' white wine, and fresh vegetable salads. Between the dishes stood silver candelabra; flickering candlelight danced across the lords' shadowed faces.
Warm, savory scents drifted in the air, yet the nobles had no appetite.
They couldn't help glancing at the youngest king in the realm's history, seated at the table's head.
"Why aren't you all eating?" Draconis swept his gaze over them.
At those words, the lords finally picked up their utensils, though the fine food now tasted like Ash.
Draconis found it faintly amusing—was he really that frightening?
Sipping his white wine, he dropped the pretense and spoke slowly:
"The war is over. What are your thoughts on the kingdom's next steps?"
The question halted every diner; they racked their brains trying to read Draconis's intent.
After a long pause, Sharon, Lord of Twin Dragon City, ventured, "We should aid the refugees and focus on recovery?"
Draconis gave a slight nod. "Exactly. Many Commoners still perish from hunger and cold."
"I know some of you think Commoners are base and expendable—if they die, more will be born. But from today on, remember: only with enough Commoners can you be called lords."
"They grow our food, weave our carpets, even sew the clothes we wear—everything comes from their hard labor."
The words set the lords pondering.
"So, without Commoners, we're nothing?" someone asked.
Draconis looked at the speaker—a man in his fifties.
As a benevolent king, Draconis was usually patient with his subjects.
He began to explain: "It's not like that. Commoners and the monarch are like a ship and the water that bears it."
"Only when the Commoners are well-fed and warmly clothed will the kingdom be stable; if they face hunger and cold every day, sooner or later the realm will be plunged into war."
Everyone present was astute; hearing this, they understood at once.
His Majesty meant to fight for the rights of those Commoners!
Some were stunned. As members of the ruling class, they knew full well that doing so would inevitably hurt the interests of the nobility.
The influence nobles could exert on a nation was in no way comparable to that of Commoners.
If they banded together... "Your Majesty, absolutely not!" exclaimed several lords loyal to Draconis.
Gross remained silent and did not interject.
Sharon and the others looked equally shocked.
"Only in this way can the kingdom go further." Draconis smiled faintly. "As for the rest..."
Draconis raised his hand; the next instant a frigid aura swept the dining hall, and the biting chill made everyone shudder.
From the shadows behind Draconis, Kyurem's colossal form slowly emerged and stood at his back.
Draconis speared a cut piece of steak with his fork and asked:
"Alfred, is the treasury nearly empty?"
"Your Majesty, the ongoing urban projects have consumed vast sums; the treasury is almost depleted," Alfred replied.
"Mm." Draconis gave a slight nod.
That seemingly casual sound sent a tempest through the lords' hearts.
"Your Majesty..."
Even Gross was startled.
His Majesty intended to slice into the nobles' cake!
What were they to do?
What could they do?
The lords felt their very scalps go numb.
"However, I didn't summon you today for this matter." Draconis spoke again.
Hearing this, a single thought flashed through their minds—
Here it comes, their turn!
"I need each of you to cooperate with me in carrying out reforms." Draconis slowly revealed his true aim.
Up to now, the realm's lords wielded vast power within their own territories.
They owned manorial lands, controlled the fields worked by serfs who paid rent and rendered corvée, and also held rights such as levying taxes and minting coins.
Now Draconis planned to nationalize those lands and distribute them to the Commoners.
The feudal system needed reform.
Closed human settlements would be reclassified by size into villages, towns, and cities for easier governance.
Territories and cities would be renamed: Castelia Territory becomes Castelia City, Opelucid Territory becomes Opelucid City, and the current lords will serve as acting mayors, to be confirmed based on future performance.
In addition, every city, town, and village must establish dedicated Pokémon Centers, schools, police stations, and Nurseries.
Pokémon Centers heal Pokémon; Nurseries shelter wild Pokémon and provide starter Pokémon to the locality's children—both are prerequisites for promoting Trainer culture.
Schools will select talent for the kingdom and teach Trainers Pokémon knowledge.
Police stations will maintain public order, with officers equipped with Pokémon to assist investigations—famous examples include Growlithe.
A mayor's duty is to manage and develop the city; in essence little different from a lord, only certain powers are separated into specialized agencies.
Draconis finished outlining his plans, paused, then added:
"I will send experienced aides to help you reform and show you how humans and Pokémon can live together. Any thoughts?"
The lords could only force wry smiles.
They looked at Kyurem behind Draconis.
What thoughts could they possibly have?
Gross shut his eyes, drew a deep breath—so be it; they were surrendering only some authority, at least they were still alive.
More importantly, they could continue to be "lords," merely under a new title.
Seeing this, Draconis smiled faintly.
"This world is not inhabited by humans alone. Pokémon are not just for battle; in daily life they can play far greater roles, and with them our lives will become better."
Sharon nodded in agreement.
He had seen it with his own eyes.
Grass-type Pokémon helped farmers tend crops, making them grow faster and better.
Water-types helped irrigate; some could even use Rain Dance to alter the weather, so drought would no longer leave humans helpless.
Having said all that, Draconis gave a satisfied nod at the lords' cooperation.
"Everyone, rest well tonight. The war is over; next year will be a brand-new beginning."
With those words the tense atmosphere in the dining hall gradually eased.
Since resistance was futile, they might as well lie back and enjoy it.
After watching performances all day, they were indeed hungry.
And truth be told, His Majesty Draconis's cuisine was excellent.
Draconis, having finished dinner, rose and told Alfred, "Alfred, see that our guests are well entertained."
Alfred bowed. "As you command, Your Majesty."
Draconis left the dining hall and returned to his chambers, exhausted after the long day.
His Pokémon were already waiting; the moment he entered, Dragonite happily nuzzled him.
Draconis stroked its head, then sat at his desk. Larvesta crawled beneath the table and eagerly warmed his feet with its body.
Dragonite had secretly learned a trick from the maids; it clenched its chubby claws and began to knead Draconis's shoulders, the maids having said this would ease fatigue and stress.
"Hmm?" Dragonite asked.
Draconis was surprised. "Where did you learn that?"
Dragonite puffed up proudly. "Rooarr!"
Draconis: "..." Never mind; Dragonite's massage was erratic, but to avoid hurting its feelings he said nothing.
He sketched the principles and blueprints of the steam engine on paper, intending to hand them to the craftsmen of the Royal Workshop for study.
When everything was done, Draconis rubbed his tired brow.
Whew... being king is exhausting.
How wonderful it would be to travel to the modern Pokémon world, think of nothing, worry about nothing—just like Ash, roaming the world with his Pokémon and enjoying the sights!
....
Power Stones PlZZZZ
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