The Ghost Specialist

“Our apologies for the delay, but we'll be getting right into the battle!”

Mr. Pokémon’s voice settled down the arena as Sam stepped out onto the field. He wasn't sure how disheveled he looked, but he had done his best to fix up his outfit before heading to compete.

His last two Pokémon had been retrieved from the nurse, and Haunter had returned with his Pokéball carried in mouth. The familiar weight of their Pokéballs was comforting as Sam strode forward. He casually waved, and in the distance, he could see Edgar doing the same.

“That's our opponent,” he whispered. “A Poison Type specialist. A slight tendency to try to set up the field in his favor. Expect him to rely on poisoning you, if possible. Also expect his Pokémon to be strong and well trained.”

For once, Sam didn't just have three Pokémon on him. For so long, it felt as though he was stuck with half of a full team. Now, however, a certain green Pokéball sat at just the edge of his pocket. He wasn't sure how well it let a Pokémon see out, but he hoped that Misdreavus would be able to watch and observe the impending fight.

When he reached the field, he did his best to not react to the occasional glare the referee sent his way. It was more than just the brief check-over most challengers ever received. The man was unhappy, clearly aware of the true reason behind the battle's delay. It certainly wasn’t the excuse of technical issues that the announcers gave, after all.

Sam kept his mind on preparing for the battle, instead.

Edgar will use four Pokémon. I also have four now, but I won’t be able to rely on their full potential. Quilava is still injured. Primeape is utterly exhausted. But, while Primeape will need to sit this out, Quilava can still technically fight, and we have both Haunter and Misdreavus, too.

He hummed.

Haunter needs to get at least one knock-out. Quilava as well. Misdreavus is strong, but we haven’t trained together. I have to hope that our chat on the way over and whatever she saw when following us means she understands how we fight. I need her to take out at least two members of Edgar’s team if we want to win.

Of course, Sam would throw everything his team had into this match, but he knew he’d need to rely on the newly caught Misdreavus rather extensively. She had no history of practice and no familiarity with Sam's strategies outside of anything she might have picked up while following them. However, she wanted to fight. She wanted to win. Sam had asked, and Misdreavus had declared that she wanted to prove her place on the team.

“Hi Sam!” Edgar called out, smiling and bringing up a hand.

“...Hi,” Sam said. He sent a brief glance to the referee. The man still looked annoyed at the delay, but he wasn't stopping the competitors from talking.

Edgar continued.

“Glad to see you doing so well! I liked your matches. I kind of get why you have a Primeape on your team, now. But.... Well, ugh, how do I phrase this? It's a shame you aren't going to get any further. You had potential.”

One of Sam's eyes twitched.

“I mean, do you really think you can beat me?” Edgar asked.

Sam replied by simply taking out a Pokéball as the crowd ooh’d in response. He could already feel the faint movement of Haunter stirring within. Neither of them appreciated Edgar’s comment.

“There's a difference between thinking something and knowing something,” Sam replied. “For example, you think you’re going to win. I know I’m going to win.”

More shouts came from the audience. Some were cheers of support, others were yelling at Sam as if he were a heel that needed to be stomped down. Either way, Edgar took Sam’s words in stride, the younger trainer smiling and bobbing his head the whole time.

“I'd like to see you try.”

The referee had enough at that point. He shouted for both trainers to send out their Pokémon.

“Haunter!” Sam shouted.

“Haunter!” Edgar shouted in a nearly identical cry.

Two floating Ghost Types appeared over the field. Two floating Ghost Types that looked almost exactly the same.

“My, my! A mirror match! Seems that both trainers heard my wishes for this fight!” Mr. Pokémon said.

“I doubt they heard your wishes. It simply makes strategic sense,” Falkner replied. “Samuel's Haunter has proven to be a powerful combatant with a Hypnosis that can utterly cripple a team. That strategy is already known, so why bother tipping his hand with a different one? Meanwhile, Edgar predicted that obvious choice, so of course he replied with his best counter.”

A hum came from Nurse Joy.

“I'm not sure about that theory. Seems to me that Sam's Pokémon were injured in the last match, and now he's trying to give them time to heal.”

Below, two Ghost Types on the field stared off. The referee looked between them and nodded once.

“You know the rules,” he said loudly. “Four Pokémon, two switches each. Trainers, get ready!”

He raised a pair of flags before bringing them down in a swish.

“Let the battle begin!”

Not even going through the rules, huh? My delay must have really messed things up.

The thought quickly flashed through Sam's mind. Both he and Edgar were already shouting out commands.

“Hypnosis!”

“Smog, quick!”

Before Haunter could send Edgar's Pokémon into a forced slumber, gas spilled out of his opponent’s mouth and completely surrounded it on the field. The Smog served as cover and filled the area, creating an environment where it could move without being seen.

For now, with Hypnosis hitting nothing but smoke, Haunter held back, and Sam held back his own commands as well. Both of them waited to hear what Edgar would shout next.

He shouted nothing. Edgar’s Haunter attacked on its own.

“Shadow Punch!” Sam called out as a counter.

Fists shot out of the Smog, and fists shot out from Haunter’s sides. Two identical attacks crashed against each other in the air.

“Grab them!” Sam shouted quickly.

As the two sets of Shadow Punch impacted, each set of hands pulled back to try again. This time, Haunter opened up his fists to lunge forward and wrap around his opponent’s hands, holding them in place. Still hidden in the Smog cloud, Edgar’s Pokémon tried to draw them back, but Haunter fought against it. The hands of both Pokémon became occupied in a furious tug-of-war.

“Sludge Bomb!” Edgar yelled.

“Acid Spray!” Sam ordered.

A glob of gooey tar was lobbed high into the air, sailing out from the center of the Smog. Haunter couldn’t exactly locate his opponent’s position, so his Acid Spray came out more like a wide mist that covered as much area as possible. He barely managed to get it out in time for the Sludge Bomb to start plummeting directly towards him, but Haunter was familiar with his opponent’s tricks. This Poison Type move was conspicuously large with an obvious arc. He easily dodged the much smaller and much faster Shadow Ball that shot his way.

“Keep it up,” Sam said.

Repeated uses of Acid Spray ate away at edges of the Smog, but if it was doing anything to the enemy Haunter, the result went unseen.

“Barrage. Fast attacks,” Edgar said. “Overwhelm it with speed.”

A mass of Shadow Balls came out fast, but the move still necessitated projectiles to be fired off one-by-one. This past week of training had put Haunter through worse, and he spun and rolled and drifted high up in the air in a dance that avoided each and every one of those attacks.

He cackled. His smile told Sam he was clearly enjoying this. Several times over, he continued to spray his acid into the Smog. Edgar’s Haunter had to pause to re-up its obscuration at many points. Even with it hidden, it was clear which Ghost Type had the advantage.

(Sam’s.)

“Lick!”

Sam couldn’t see Edgar’s expression, but the boy’s voice was tinged with frustration.

The opposing Haunter exploded out of the cloud, rushing Haunter with a malicious grin. A too-large tongue hung out the side of its mouth, and Sam waited until it was close.

“Lick!” he shouted as well.

Two tongues lolled out. Two tongues swiped forward, each running across the other’s surface. Both Haunter froze, blinking, and the audience’s groans filled the air as the two Pokémon simultaneously gagged.

Their floating hands stopped the ongoing fight to be returned to the Pokémon’s sides. In unison, they swiped at their tongues, trying to wipe away any foreign saliva left behind.

“Disgusting,” Falkner’s voice said.

Sam regretted giving that order, but at least the two attacks canceled out.

Lick wasn’t the strongest Ghost Type move in the world, but it was capable of paralysis. It wasn’t something Sam had his Pokémon practice much, but it was a good emergency technique if Haunter was getting overwhelmed up close.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Edgar’s Pokémon was far more used to gross situations, as it recovered much more quickly than Sam's Pokémon. Edgar pointed forward and called out an attack, taking advantage of Haunter still being distracted by his tongue.

“Shadow Ball,” Edgar ordered for the final time.

Haunter looked up a moment too late, and a ball of darkness slammed right into his face.

The move sent him careening to the battlefield floor. Small stones were knocked up into the air as his body impacted it, not phasing through. He was left in a daze, eyes spinning. A super effective attack like that wasn’t something he could handle.

But he was still technically conscious.

And through the slowly dissipating Smog, Edgar looked rather annoyed.

“That’s enough, Haunter. Return!” Edgar said.

This time around, Sam was faster.

“Mean Look!”

Though Haunter was now severely injured, he snapped himself into a roll forward, looking up to glare at the Pokémon floating directly above him. When the light of his opponent’s Pokéball surrounded the enemy Haunter, the light broke. Both the energy of the move and the opposing Haunter itself fought against the effect.

Haunter had taunted his opponent, and it’d be sticking on the field as long as Mean Look lingered.

“...Was that wise?” Mr. Pokémon’s voice said from above.

The announcers started to comment on the validity of Sam’s strategy. Edgar wanted a safe and easy switch while his opponent’s Pokémon was injured, but for some reason, they didn’t understand why Sam would want to keep a seemingly healthier Pokémon out on the field. With the current difference in strength, Edgar’s Haunter would have plenty of opportunities to take Sam’s own Haunter out.

Except, that wasn’t true.

Edgar was trying to hide it, but it was blatantly obvious to Sam. Acid Spray had landed through the Smog cloud, not creating any obvious injuries, but instead eating away at the opposing Haunter’s amorphous body and creating points on its surface where it looked a bit fuzzy. The Poison Type attack might have not caused much damage, but Acid Spray’s caustic effect ate away at its defenses and opened it up to future special attacks.

In other words, we just need one attack to win.

Mean Look ensured the Pokémon couldn’t flee, but Sam didn’t have many options for attacks to take it out. Not just that, but the point blank, super effective Shadow Ball was devastating. Haunter was liable to fall unconscious at any moment. If a move missed, the Mean Look would go to waste.

Sam decided to risk it. Haunter had been practicing the move, but it hadn’t been ready to be used in battle before now.

“Ominous Wind,” he said.

Anything that involved a projectile would have been too easy to dodge. Instead, what was more difficult to avoid was an entire gale.

Haunter poured the last of his energy into this attack. He knew he would faint, so he solely focused on making sure this attack couldn’t be avoided. Remaining on the ground, he threw his hands to the side and cried out his name. From behind him, a dark, chilling smoke blew out. It reminded Sam of the fog of a deep forest or the mist of a midnight beach.

Haunter laughed. Edgar’s Haunter tried to run away. But, taunted by Mean Look as it was, it was reluctant to flee, and that cost it the match. The Ominous Wind caught and consumed it, seeping into the weak points formed by Acid Spray. The super effective damage drained its energy and caused it to collapse into unconsciousness.

Unfortunately, Sam’s Pokémon used the last of his energy to send that attack out, and he collapsed back onto the ground as well.

“Well now! A mirror match ends up in mirrored ties! Seems to me that these two Haunter are rather equal, hm?”

No. They’re not. Haunter’s still fighting with a handicap.

All it would have taken was one Hex to overwhelm the Smog and eliminate Edgar’s Pokémon. The flames conjured by that move could appear as several projectiles at once. So used to hiding, Sam doubted Edgar’s Pokémon was great at dodging. That, and he doubted the other boy had pushed himself recently. He seemed to have grown cocky after his Beginner’s Tournament win.

Edgar returned his Pokémon, and Sam returned his as well. Rather than immediately making his next selection, Sam held Haunter’s Pokéball in front of him.

“Thank you. Because of you, you’ve carried us through this tournament. And because of you, we’re going to win this fight as well,” he whispered.

Edgar didn’t look happy. Clearly, he hadn’t expected his Haunter to faint. Though, instead of making any comments, he merely sent out the next member of his team.

“Victreebel.”

Victreebel was part Grass Type, appearing as a pitcher plant capable of swallowing a full grown man. Sam was tempted to send out Quilava here, but he paused, grabbing Misdreavus’s Pokéball instead.

“One shake if you know Mean Look. Two shakes if you don’t.”

He smiled when the ball shook once in his hand. The smile turned into a full-on grin as he tossed the Friend Ball into the air.

Misdreavus made her debut on the field.

“Resume!” the head referee shouted.

Sam and Edgar both called for different moves.

“Toxic!” Edgar shouted quickly.

“Mean Look,” Sam cheerfully replied.

Misdreavus’s hair flowed behind her as if caught in a harsh wind. The red pearls around her neck glowed with bright light. She glared at Victreebel challengingly, both as a fellow Pokémon and as a terrifying banshee.

Meanwhile, from the pitcher plant’s body, it eagerly met her taunt and made a series of horrible, choking noises. As it spat acidic mucus up at her, Misdreavus barely dodged the splatter of the debilitating Toxic, using Confusion to send any properly aimed chunks of gunk towards the floor.

We’ll need to be wary of that. Toxic might as well be a guaranteed hit when used by a Poison Type. Confusion is the only reason she’s unaffected. We won’t be able to risk getting close, either.

Sam knew what major attacks Misdreavus had—she had done her best to describe them on the walk over. It was an expansive selection when compared to some of his team members, but she really only knew Ghost and Psychic Type attacks. While her species was adept at using something like Will-O-Wisp, she personally hadn’t learned it. She only knew one status move, and while it was more volatile than most conditions, it still paired well with Mean Look.

“Confuse Ray,” Sam said.

Large leaves on Victreebel’s sides flung Razor Leaves that carved through the air. Misdreavus floated backwards to buy herself time, firing off a grey beam that struck Victreebel between the eyes as she did. She tried to completely dodge Victreebel's attack, but her use of Confuse Ray meant she wasn’t able to quickly switch into a telekinetic Confusion. A sharpened leaf ended up leaving a long slice across her cheek.

“You’re fine. It’s one strike. I’ve seen you take worse,” Sam said.

He spoke with confidence to not betray his feelings to Edgar or the audience, but that statement was meant more as a question. Thankfully, Misdreavus truly didn’t seem bothered—she might have taken some damage, but it was only one leaf out of many.

“Victreebel! Razor Leaf again, don’t let it dodge!” Edgar shouted, trying to be loud enough to pierce through the haze of his Pokémon’s confusion.

Under the effects of Confuse Ray, Victreebel did hear Edgar’s command, but it seemed unsure where its target was. To adjust for that, it spun, and small, sharpened leaves went everywhere as it attempted to attack every spot on the field at once.

Psychic barriers flashed on the sides, preventing stray leaves from leaving the field’s bounds. Resident Psychic Types protected both the trainers and staff. Misdreavus didn’t have such a protection, but it didn’t matter.

“Psywave,” Sam ordered.

Misdreavus sent out a psychic sine wave that waxed and waned with power while moving towards her foe.

The spinning leaves were knocked aside, and Victreebel was too busy trying to attack to dodge. Misdreavus’s attack struck it dead center, and as a partial Poison Type, the Psychic Type move dealt super effective damage. The nature of Psywave meant its actual power tended to vary—something that Sam hoped to correct by eventually teaching Misdreavus Psybeam—but the attack was timed well, striking its target near its peak.

His smile twitching downwards, Edgar’s hand reached for his Pokéball, but he paused. Mean Look meant he wouldn’t be able to return his Pokémon and break it free of that confusion. Switching right now was impossible.

Sam chose to stay silent as the exchange continued on the field. Like Haunter before her, Misdreavus actually looked like she was having fun. Watched by the entire audience, she didn’t seem to mind the many eyes. Instead, she just seemed to be happy to fight alongside Sam as part of his team.

“Finish it off with Shadow Ball,” Sam eventually said.

With Misdreavus floating in the air, Victreebel’s strategy was effectively crippled. She was the perfect counter; Vine Whip couldn’t reach her, she was too far away to be swallowed whole, and her Confusion could cause any attempts for a Toxic to miss.

“Sludge Bomb, quick!” Edgar shouted.

Victreebel snapped out of its confusion to gurgle and cough up a glob of poison at Misdreavus.

To dodge, she let herself fall, careening towards the ground and pulling up in a movement similar to Aerial Ace. She used the momentum to fire off a Shadow Ball, and Sam heard Falkner briefly whisper something along the lines of “how inspired.”

The Shadow Ball hit Victreebel right in its chest. Edgar’s smile vanished.

After everything else, that was more than enough, and the Grass Type Pokémon crumpled before being returned. Edgar unhappily clipped its Pokéball back on his belt.

“...didn’t know you had a Misdreavus,” the boy grumbled.

Misdreavus quickly turned around to rush to where Sam was standing in his trainer box. She stopped before leaving the bounds of the field. Large eyes stared up at him, almost begging.

Amused, Sam smiled and took a step forward. He rubbed her head affectionately. She was asking, after all.

“Good job,” he said.

Elated, Misdreavus cried out her name before returning to the air, beaming proudly with a slight smirk sent Edgar’s way. As the other trainer palmed a Pokéball, Sam glanced up at the audience. Such a sign of affection definitely didn’t match the appearance he was going for, but he didn’t mind. Misdreavus deserved the thanks for all her hard work.

That’s strange, though. I don’t see Redi.

Neither her nor Ursaring were in their seats. Sam wasn’t sure what happened to them.

“Might have taken out Victreebel a bit too easily, but try this! Tentacruel!”

The many-tentacled jellyfish Pokémon that had once helped Edgar fish now appeared on the field. Misdreavus pulled herself back to ready herself to resume the fight.

“Pst,” Sam whispered. “Have any other status moves?”

Unfortunately, she shook her head. She had a decent number of attacks, but Confuse Ray and Mean Look—and technically Growl—were the only moves she had for support. So, instead of keeping her out, Sam used one of his two switches to return her for now.

“Quilava,” Sam said.

The crowd went utterly wild.

“What?! And just like that, Sam sends out a Fire Type against a Water Type foe!” Mr. Pokémon yelled.

Edgar looked like he wanted to comment, but the boy just ended up closing his mouth. He shook his head, and when the battle resumed, he went ahead and gave the obvious command.

“Bubble Beam.”

“Swift,” Sam said.

The reaction was about as expected. While he hadn’t had much time to check the New Pokédex before this, he at least knew Tentacruel tended to lack moves that involved straight streams of water. At most, a Tentacruel would know an attack like Water Pulse or Bubble Beam, two moves Quilava could easily deal with. If it knew Surf, Sam would have seen Edgar call for it in an earlier battle.

No such thing had ever occurred.

No, Edgar was clearly a Poison Type specialist who relied on Poison Type moves. The Bubble Beam came out solely to take advantage of Quilava’s Fire Type, but she swiped her head to the side, and an array of spiraling stars came out to rush her foe.

Each star of Swift pierced through and popped the incoming bubbles. It helped disguise what she did after, as Tentacruel was distracted by the barrage from Swift striking its side.

It was unfortunately rather resistant to special attacks, so the Swift didn’t do much damage. Thankfully, it did lead the way for Quilava’s follow-up move.

“There we go,” Sam said, smiling.

Quilava didn’t need to rely on her injured foot just to toss out a few attacks. In the wake of the Swift was a hidden Will-O-Wisp. Tentacruel might have been a Water Type, but that didn’t mean it was immune to burns.

“I’m using my second switch,” Sam called out.

The battle was put on momentary pause as Quilava came back, and Misdreavus reappeared in her place.

“Mean Look and— Well, hide from it the same way you hid from me,” Sam told her.

The second that Mean Look trapped the Tentacruel on the field, Edgar threw up his hands and groaned.

“Really?! Come on!”

Misdreavus then proceeded to dive into the floor. There wasn’t much of a clear shadow underneath her, but one formed right as she hit the ground.

“No way,” Sam breathed.

Shadow Sneak?

Misdreavus was a special attacker. A move like that shouldn’t have been naturally learned by her species.

And then to add to that ridiculousness, Misdreavus went on to use another move at the same time. A Night Shade, darker than Haunter’s, popped up and obscured her exact position on the field.

Where did she learn this kind of stuff? Between this combination and Shadow Ball, she’s far too strong to have been a simple wild Pokémon.

“Toxic,” Edgar snarled. His usual affable demeanor had utterly vanished. Now, he seemed more determined than ever to win the battle.

Tentacruel shot out streams of poison from its tentacles, each aimed at where the dark sphere hid Misdreavus’s zig-zags over the field. The attack always entered that sphere, but it didn’t seem to land, forming deep purple puddles instead. Misdreavus was able to repeatedly dodge, utterly avoiding multiple uses of Toxic, until—

“It’s setting up the field,” Sam realized.

Tentacruel’s burn was eating away at it, but it was also slowly using its Toxic puddles to corral where Misdreavus could potentially go.

“That’s it! We waited long enough, return!”

“Mean Look!” Sam countered.

While the first use of the move had worn off, it was just as easy to re-up it even through the shadow on the ground.

“Fine! Whatever! Who cares about being able to switch?” Edgar shouted. “Just use Water Pulse, or something! See if it likes that!”

“The sky!”

That was all Sam managed to get out.

Misdreavus left the ground, her Shadow Sneak ending, but with so few safe places left after Toxic, the pulsating ring of water ended up striking her in the air.

“Misdreavus!” Sam shouted, worried.

The attack knocked her back, but she didn’t fall. However, she was panting. She’d spent a while running, and Tentacruel wasn’t a Pokémon to scoff at.

She was tired and injured. As Edgar’s grin returned, Sam looked at his opponent’s Pokémon carefully.

I’m relying too much on status moves again, aren’t I? Wearing it down is fine, but a strategy like this always works best when supported by real damage.

“Just need you to faint this last Pokémon, and we’ll be good. Get close and use Confusion,” Sam said.

“Again!”

Misdreavus dived downwards. Both her eyes and her red pearl necklace glowed with Psychic Type energy. On land, Tentacruel didn’t have much in the way of mobility, but its many tentacles tried to draw it back as it fired off one last Water Pulse.

The move hit.

But Misdreavus let it hit.

She crashed right through the ringed pulse, preserving her momentum as water splattered everywhere. Sailing right at it, Tentacruel stiffened as her Confusion took effect.

Confusion was too weak of a move and Tentacruel was too large of a Pokémon for Misdreavus to lift her opponent into the air. However, the attack still caused space to twist around it, dealing super effective damage and causing quite a bit of pain.

“Toxic!” Edgar shouted.

Even through the attack, Tentacruel swiped with a tentacle. This time around, while the minimal distance allowed for a more effective Confusion, that same lack of distance prevented Misdreavus from sending the poisonous sludge away from her in time.

“There we go,” Edgar said, smiling once more.

Tentacruel fell, but Misdreavus was now badly poisoned.

Edgar returned his Pokémon quickly. Misdreavus looked like she was having trouble breathing, the Toxic growing by the second. To make matters worse, Edgar took his time to make his final selection. He didn’t seem to be bothered by how he only had one available Pokémon left. He had two to pick from, and he was letting Misdreavus suffer from being badly poisoned, following the rules but violating their spirit.

He really was a Poison Type trainer through and through.

“Looks like Edgar is in quite the pickle. He only has one team member left for this battle,” Mr. Pokémon commented, his voice being carried throughout the arena.

“Hm. You might think that, but I’m not sure about Samuel’s chances,” Falkner replied. “His Quilava is still injured from its last battle, and now his Misdreavus is suffering from Toxic, too. With no switches remaining, he might be more disadvantaged than he might look. Especially after everything his Primeape has gone through—is it even in a state to join a fight?”

He’s not, but you’re underestimating Quilava.

Misdreavus struggled to stay in the air. All the while, Edgar continued to delay.

“Send out your next Pokémon,” the referee ordered tersely.

“Fine, fine. Sorry about that! Just thinking!”

Sam could see an obvious lie for what it was.

Plucking a Pokéball from his waist, Edgar sent out one final team member.

“Arbok,” he said with a grin. “Really think you’ll be able to defeat my starter so easily?”

“Yeah.”

Edgar blinked.

“Misdreavus, Night Shade!” Sam called out.

Arbok tried to coil in on itself, but Misdreavus was too fast. She lunged and flashed with the slightest bit of damage before she fell, finally succumbing to her poison.

Sam quickly returned her. She hadn’t taken any devastating direct hits. Though badly poisoned, all it would take was one treatment from a nurse, and he knew Misdreavus would be right as rain.

“You did amazing for your first battle. You’re the reason we’re going to win.”

He had no way of telling for sure, but for some reason, he imagined her Pokéball feeling warm inside.

Replacing Misdreavus on the field was Quilava, the same Pokémon who had burned the Tentacruel appearing once again.

“Don’t run. Focus on dodging. Build yourself up and get ready,” Sam ordered calmly.

His closest friend and the second starter on the field grinned. Quilava’s flames started to take on a darker hue as she built herself up with Curse.

“Poison Sting! Into Wrap!” Edgar shouted.

It might have suffered a flash of Night Shade, but that was nothing for it as the Arbok moved at an incredibly fast speed. It slithered across the field and opened its mouth, unleashing many sharpened needles that rocketed towards Quilava.

While she wasn’t running, she had been using Curse. The move took a lot of focus to maintain, but the flashes of insight provided by Detect still allowed her to dodge Arbok’s projectiles with ease. However, while the Poison Sting didn’t hit, Arbok was able to dash right up to her, where it snapped out with its tail. It wrapped her with its body, the serpent Pokémon coiling around her and beginning to squeeze.

“And don’t even think about using Will-O-Wisp! Arbok’s Shed Skin means your attempts to burn will be useless!” Edgar taunted.

The announcers commented something about how impressive it was that Edgar had trained his Pokémon’s ability.

Please. Just wait until everyone realizes just how common abilities as good as Shed Skin actually are.

Sam waited to give any commands. Quilava kept using Curse, building up both her defenses and physical strength. Arbok was strong, and it was clear the pressure of the move strained Sam’s Pokémon, but also knew she could take it.

“Wait for it... Wait for it...” Edgar mumbled. “Now! Use Poison Fang!”

Arbok’s lower jaw unhinged to try to bite down, but Sam only needed to say a single word for a counter.

“Incinerate.”

Fire exploded against Arbok’s face.

The snake Pokémon reared back, its move never landing. A hiss left its throat from the point-blank pain, and it loosened its grip. Quilava squirmed her way out and jumped into the air.

“Flame Wheel.”

“Glare!” Edgar hurriedly shouted.

Sorry, but you’ve activated our trap by squeezing her like that. Really think you’ll be able to handle Quilava boosted by Blaze?

Arbok snapped its gaze towards her, but Quilava had already tucked her head in to let herself be consumed by darkened fire. Like a meteor, she slammed down, and her target crashed into the floor. All of this together meant she had dealt massive damage. It was honestly a miracle that Arbok didn’t faint.

“Go for—”

“Ember.”

The weakest Fire Type move, one not even affected by Curse, was what ended up finishing Arbok off.

It was over.

“The victor is Samuel!”

Sam was finally able to breath out now that the battle was over.

We won. Huh.

Sam felt a little strange. The battle hadn’t been as difficult as he’d thought. It was hard, yes, but Edgar was supposed to be a sort of prodigy. Even though he had won the Beginner’s Tournament, it was like for that entire match, Sam had just been leading him around by the nose.

By far, his most difficult opponent had been Edgar’s Haunter. The rest, well, Sam had counter strategies prepared for most of Edgar’s team. He knew what he needed to do, and while there had been a bit of nerves thanks to Misdreavus’s lack of practice, it all worked out.

And now, we just have the finals to get through. We’re in second place overall.

Unable to stop his smile, Sam returned Quilava so that she wouldn’t need to run to him and potentially further damage her leg. He walked forward, stepping onto the field, going over all the moments of the battle in his head as he met with Edgar in the center.

The younger trainer stared at him. Around them, the consequences of their battle. Puddles of now-diluted Toxic remained. The arena’s Ground Types would need to fix up the field for the next match.

After a short moment of wait, Edgar stuck out his hand rather aggressively.

“I’m going to beat you in the Conference.”

Sam clasped Edgar’s hand and shook.

“No. I’m pretty sure you won't.”

The statement was met with a frown.

Sam pulled back, casually waving to the audience. Edgar unhappily did the same. After spending a few seconds together to show good sportsmanship, Sam exited the field as one of the tournament’s two finalists, leaving Edgar behind.