There's an unspoken rule among Pokémon that know Power Trip — you have to be arrogant to use it properly.
Corvisquire believed in this wholeheartedly. With six layers of Hone Claws stacked up, it felt absolutely unstoppable. It puffed out its chest and glanced at the Sandslash curled up on the opposite side of the field, completely sure that its opponent had tucked itself into a ball out of sheer terror.
The truth, of course, was a little different. Sandslash had simply used Rollout six times in a row and couldn't uncurl itself anymore. But Corvisquire didn't care either way.
Scared of me. Definitely scared of me.
Flapping its wings, Corvisquire launched a flurry of dark-red Energy Balls, each one crackling with Dark-type energy, and sent them crashing into the helpless, curled-up Sandslash. The single Defense boost from Defense Curl stood no chance against the sheer power of six Hone Claws stacked on top of each other. Sandslash was knocked out instantly, crumpling to the ground without a fight.
It was only then that the yellow-haired boy across the field realized just how badly he had miscalculated. He had tried to show off an unfamiliar strategy earlier, and all it had done was hand Nova the perfect opportunity to set up. Now, Corvisquire wasn't even a high-level Pokémon — but after six Hone Claws, it had the power to tear through his entire remaining team. He ran through his five remaining Pokémon in his head and felt his stomach drop. None of them could survive even one of Corvisquire's hits. Not a single one.
This was exactly why Nova had never believed that ordinary students from a Specialized Vocational School's battle department had any real chance of beating him.
To be fair, students who made it into the battle department were genuinely more talented than most kids their age. Nova had no doubts about that. But having talent and having experience were two completely different things. These students had only just started out. Their way of thinking was still firmly stuck in the basics — which Pokémon had the highest stats, which moves hit the hardest, and which ones looked the coolest.
Focusing too much on powerful offensive moves while ignoring status moves and support skills was a mistake almost every new Trainer made. It wasn't something to be ashamed of. It was just part of the learning curve.
Even Ash — the protagonist of countless Trainer stories, someone who had traveled through multiple regions and entered the Ever Grande Conference in Hoenn — still leaned on moves like Aerial Ace and Thunderbolt more often than not during that tournament. Outside of the occasional Agility, he rarely used status-changing moves either. And Ash had been training for years by that point.
It wasn't reasonable to expect teenagers who had just started their Pokémon journeys to immediately build detailed, flexible strategies tailored to each of their Pokémon. That kind of skill took time to develop.
Even Nova himself only had his current level of experience because of the push the Cultivation System had given him. He was under no illusions about that.
Still, not everyone was born with the kind of mind Thelma had — and even Thelma had never managed to beat Nova in a one-on-one battle. So whatever this yellow-haired kid was expecting, he was going to be disappointed.
That said, Nova had to admit — this boy, Koga, had earned his reputation as the top student in the battle department. Even after making a serious tactical error, he hadn't folded. He kept his composure, kept thinking, and kept pushing forward instead of simply walking off the field.
Nova was almost a little impressed.
But then again, this whole situation had been set up specifically to put Nova in his place. And in the stands, Aresdra was still watching, gripping the straps of her backpack with barely contained frustration. If Koga surrendered now, he might as well give up on his pride entirely.
So the situation was straightforward. Koga stared at the five Poké Balls clipped to his belt and made himself think. One second passed. Then, as if something had clicked, his eyes sharpened. There was a way.
If Corvisquire is the problem, then I just won't let it stay on the field.
He chose his level 27 Mightyena.
His reasoning was sound. The move Corvisquire had just used was Dark-type, and Mightyena, being a Dark-type itself, could resist it well. On top of that, Mightyena had the Intimidate ability — the moment it stepped onto the field, it would lower the opposing Pokémon's Attack stat. And most importantly, Mightyena could learn a certain move at level sixteen. A move that most people overlooked. A move that might just change everything right now.
Five against two. The advantage is still mine.
The moment Mightyena bounded onto the field, Intimidate activated. Corvisquire, bloated with confidence from all its stat boosts, flinched at the fierce pressure rolling off the big dark wolf. Its Attack dropped by one stage.
Then Koga shouted at the top of his lungs, praying to every Legendary Pokémon he'd ever heard of that his move would go first.
"Mightyena! Use Roar!"
His voice cracked from the effort. On the other side of the field, Nova tilted his head.
What exactly are you getting so worked up about?
Roar — a move that forces the opponent to switch out one of their benched Pokémon at random.
It was a clever idea, Nova admitted. Not a perfect solution, but clever. The problem was that Roar had one of the lowest priority ratings of any move in existence. It always went last. Even in a straight-up speed comparison, Roar would lose.
Corvisquire's Power Trip landed clean before Mightyena could even finish its charge.
Corvisquire blinked, watching the Mightyena sway on its feet.
Was it trying to do something just now? I wasn't paying attention.
Koga's eyes went blank. The hope he'd been holding onto — that one small, desperate thread — snapped. It felt like his dream of becoming a Pokémon master was crumbling in real time, right there on the battlefield.
Nova watched the boy's expression and decided he'd had enough fun for now. He wasn't cruel. There was still more to this battle worth seeing.
"Hey," Nova called out across the field. "Don't give up yet. Here's the deal — send out whatever Pokémon you want, and I'll pull Corvisquire back. Fair enough?"
Nova only had two Pokémon left at this point. If Corvisquire was returning to its Poké Ball, whatever came out next would be his last Pokémon.
Koga blinked. "...Are you serious?"
"Would I lie to you?" Nova replied with a shrug.
The comment stung a little — there was something almost patronizing about it — but it lit a small, stubborn fire in Koga's chest. He squared his shoulders.
"Go! Rhyhorn!"
Nova kept his word. Corvisquire was recalled.
The field cleared. The red flash of a Poké Ball burst open. And then something enormous stepped out of the light.
Koga's heart sank.
Nidoking stood in the middle of the field, tail swinging back and forth with enough force to shake the ground beneath it. This was its first battle since evolving, and it was practically buzzing with excitement. Each thud of its tail hit the earth like a miniature Earthquake.
Nova glanced over at Koga with a calm expression.
Did you really think switching Pokémon would help? What if what I switched in was stronger?
Rhyhorn looked up at Nidoking and went very still.
Oh. Oh no. If I'd known it was going to be you, I never would have used Roar. Not in a million years.
At level 47, Nidoking completely outclassed Koga's team. His Pokémon were mostly around level 30. Against Corvisquire, the level gap had at least given them a fighting chance. Against this, there was nothing.
The tables had turned completely.
Nidoking stepped forward and used Double Kick.
Only one of the two kicks connected.
It was enough.
Rhyhorn was sent flying across the field, eyes spinning, completely knocked out before it even hit the ground.
Nidoking looked at where the Rhyhorn had landed, and then back at the empty field, visibly underwhelmed.
That's it? I thought this was going to be a real battle.