A ball engraved with space magic—seriously?
Vilde turned the Poké Ball over in his hand, his face twisted with a mix of awe, greed, and disbelief.
Magic came in many forms—wind, fire, water, lightning, earth, holy light, darkness—but the rarest of them all were undoubtedly space and time.
A mage's affinity determined which elements they could wield. According to scholarly records, more than eighty percent of mages could freely use holy light magic. Fire and water followed closely, each at around sixty-nine percent.
Space magic, however? Across the entire continent, fewer than ten known intelligent beings could wield it.
And time magic… that was a rumor wrapped in myth, supposedly witnessed only once—by the Lich Sage of the demon race.
Vilde wanted to call this a ridiculous waste of a priceless treasure… but then again, it was in his possession now. How could that be a waste?
No—this was fate's perfect arrangement. Obviously, the gods adored him most of all.
When he had first captured Pikachu in the ball, the sudden flash of light had startled him. But once he figured out how it worked, he guarded it like a dragon hoarding gold. Even he understood the value of something like this.
"Pikachu, can you find more of these balls?" Vilde asked the yellow creature perched on his shoulder.
Why call it "Pikachu"? Because, obviously, that was the sound it made.
At first, the little monster had seemed annoyed by him, swatting or glaring whenever he got too close. But over time, Vilde realized it had a surprisingly good temper. It hadn't fried him yet again, and that was a good sign.
Pikachu eventually nodded, lifting a paw and pointing toward a distant point—the town at the forest's center.
"Over there, huh…"
Vilde's shoulders hunched instantly.
Once, he'd climbed a tree to spy on the Undead Burg from afar. The sight had seared itself into his memory: streets crawling with zombies.
And not just one kind. Some staggered about in shredded rags with splintered weapons. Others wore dented armor, and a few gleamed in full plate, armed with blades that looked sharp enough to split bone in a single swing.
It wasn't only zombies. He'd also glimpsed dogs—vicious, unnervingly fast things, their eyes glowing with hunger. They were far deadlier than the shambling corpses.
Worse still, something deep in his instincts told him there was an even greater terror lurking there, unseen.
That was why he'd spent all his time in the surrounding forest, avoiding the Burg entirely. Even so, a few zombie soldiers had wandered into his path now and then.
At first, they'd looked pitifully slow—so slow that Vilde had briefly considered fighting one.
That ended the moment one spotted him. It had launched forward, moving with steroid-fueled speed, vaulting several meters high before bringing a sword down in a cleaving arc. If Pikachu hadn't slammed into him and knocked him aside at the last second, Vilde would be neatly bisected by now.
The truth was, he was still alive purely because Pikachu had been carrying him through this nightmare.
"Nope. Not going there," Vilde muttered, already trying to steer the conversation away. "Pikachu, do you have any… uh, friends? Ones like you—smart enough to understand humans?"
Talking to Pikachu often felt like talking to a person. It understood every word he said—aside from only being able to answer with "Pika Pika," it was practically human.
That was incredible. Only the strongest monsters could grasp human speech, and yet here was this tiny, lightning-spewing creature…
If there were more like it, this could be the greatest monster research discovery in history.
"Pika," Pikachu replied, pointing at a thick, mossy tree. Then it made a sharp kicking motion.
"You want me to… kick it?"
"Pika~"
Still uncertain, Vilde raised a boot and kicked the trunk. Leaves trembled. Branches shivered. Then—
Thud!
Something dropped from above, hitting the ground with a wet rustle.
"What in the—?!" Vilde yelped, stumbling back.
The thing squirmed, then lifted its head. Green body, pale belly, Y-shaped antennae twitching, wide glassy eyes…
A giant bug.
[Caterpie]
[Mana Required per 10 Units: 1]
[HP: F- | Strength: F- | Intelligence: E+ | Endurance: F- | Speed: F-]
[Overall Combat Power: F-]
It was a bottom-tier weakling—so weak that even Wade, who had seeded it into the dungeon just to add biodiversity, considered it disposable.
The Caterpie, still dizzy from the fall, saw Vilde and bristled into an attack stance. Either it was brave, or it didn't know any better.
Pikachu darted forward and tackled it in one swift hit. The bug crumpled instantly.
"Uh… why'd you knock it out?" Vilde asked, hand half-raised.
"Pika?" Pikachu tilted its head, clearly thinking Vilde had wanted a Pokémon battle.
"I just wanted to talk to it…"
Muttering, Vilde slipped off his coat and gingerly wrapped the Caterpie in it. He wasn't about to touch a bug barehanded.
"This thing's really weak… is it even worth keeping?" he murmured.
"Weak? Your opinion of Pokémon is awfully narrow," a voice cut in from the trees.
"Who's there?!" Vilde spun toward the sound.
"You may call me Giovanni Sakaki!"
A sudden gust swept through the forest, rattling the branches and sending loose leaves spiraling. Vilde squinted against the sting of grit in the air.
When the wind died, a man stepped into view—a middle-aged figure radiating menace. Sharp eyes, hard features, immaculate black suit… every inch of him screamed "evil organization boss."
"Uh… and you are?"
"I told you. Giovanni Sakaki."
Wade—disguised via mimicry magic—stood there with a Poké Ball in hand.
"What a ridiculous name. Wait—hold on. You have one of these balls too?!" Vilde exclaimed.
"This," Wade said with disdain, "is called a Poké Ball, country bumpkin."
"Wh-what? Country bumpkin?!" Vilde's cheeks burned red. He had never been on the receiving end of that insult. "I'm a noble! How dare you—"
"I don't care if you're a king," Wade cut him off coldly. "The moment you dismissed Caterpie as weak, you revealed how short-sighted you are."
So it was called Caterpie. Still looked weak, though.
Vilde forced himself to breathe. This man clearly knew a lot about these strange creatures. Best to swallow his pride and learn what he could.
But where had this guy even come from? As far as Vilde knew, only the Bedford family and their hired adventurers were supposed to be here.
"Since you're here, Sakaki… why not work together? It's dangerous to wander the dungeon alone."
"Alone? You're not alone," Wade said, nodding toward Pikachu. "You've got him."
Vilde blinked. Something about that answer felt strange.
Oh. This man saw Pokémon as partners, not tools. Whereas Vilde, shaped by his upbringing, still saw Pikachu as just a clever monster.
For reasons he couldn't name, that thought made him feel a little ashamed.
"Looks like you're just a rookie Trainer," Wade said. "Fine. Since our eyes have met, let's have a battle!"
"A… battle?" Vilde asked warily. "I haven't even done anything to you—are you a bandit?!"
"No," Wade said, already tossing his Poké Ball. "I mean a Pokémon battle."
The ball burst open in a flash of light.
"Beedrill, I choose you! Show this kid the power of Bug-type Pokémon!"
(*****)
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