Centered on Iron Valiant's body, a field of crackling electricity burst outward, blanketing the entire arena—Electric Terrain!
The instant the terrain formed, its Ability triggered.
Quark Drive.
Empowered by the terrain, the paradox Pokémon's overclock mode kicked in!
A violet halo erupted from within, enveloping its whole frame.
Its aura surged at an incredible rate—its offensive power spiked massively!
"It… it can still stand up?" Nemona's voice trembled.
Cynthia's eyes were more serious than ever: "Not just stand—its energy signature is at least much stronger than before."
Iron Valiant moved.
It launched a relentless counteroffensive.
A blur—suddenly it was in Jason's face while he was still sucking wind.
A green sheen wrapped its fist.
Drain Punch!
Thump!
The blow landed flush on Jason's chest, sending him staggering, while several of Valiant's minor wounds visibly knit shut.
Damage dealt; stamina restored.
No pause—its twin blades flared, joined, then loosed a dazzling shockwave.
Moonblast!
A surge of Fairy energy surged over the still-unstable Jason.
BOOM!
Another explosive report.
Jason reeled under the seamless string, cuts and dents spiderwebbing across his body.
By sheer force, Iron Valiant had dragged the fight back from a catastrophic Gigaton Hammer—and leveled the field!
Jason's face finally turned grave.
Bathed in that violet halo, Iron Valiant sent a chill through him.
This thing… a monster?
Badly injured, doubly type-disadvantaged—yet it could still explode with this kind of power.
No wonder three other paradox brutes had hounded it in a pack.
A bold thought hit Jason: maybe that one-shot earlier as Ceruledge wasn't because he was that strong—maybe Iron Hands had already been half-ruined by Valiant, and Jason just cleaned up.
The Electric Terrain's "bzzzt" was the only soundtrack left.
Both fighters were down to the wire.
Jason's Tinkaton's pink hide had long since lost its sheen, crisscrossed with gouges and several clear dents—especially across chest and arms, souvenirs of Drain Punch and Moonblast.
Each breath hitched his ribcage; his hands on the haft trembled.
Gigaton Hammer's recoil still lingered; that combo dealt real hurt.
He knew—he had to end it on the next swing.
A second Gigaton Hammer was the last card. It had to hit—only hit.
If it whiffed, he'd be the one to fall.
Iron Valiant's state was even worse.
The Quark-Drive violet glow flickered—ready to wink out at any moment.
Taking a Gigaton head-on was fundamental damage. Drain Punch had clawed back a little, but only a drop in a furnace.
It was on nothing but unbending will.
It also knew: that hammer was the threat. It didn't know why the follow-up hadn't come, but the head was charging again.
It had to finish things before Jason fully reset.
Time, now, was the enemy of both.
The air tightened; even the girls watching struggled to breathe.
Liko's fingers knotted at her chest, face taut with nerves. She watched Jason's wavering silhouette; she was biting her lip white.
Nemona's excitement was gone—eyes wide, unblinking: "They're at the limit… the next exchange decides it."
Iono forgot her chat entirely; she locked the lens on the ring and didn't dare exhale. Even her stream's barrage slowed—everyone held their breath.
Only Cynthia's gray eyes still flickered with cool analysis, running branches of possibilities. In duels at the edge, it's not just power—it's will, and seizing the beat.
On that score, she favored Jason.
In the end, Iron Valiant moved first.
It shoved all-in.
It chose its strongest Fighting technique to write the final line.
Close Combat!
"—Haaah!"
A roar. Every scrap of remaining power—including what kept Quark Drive lit—flooded its fists and feet. It dropped all guard, staking everything on this rush.
The body became a white streak that tore the air, a straight-line blitz aimed to smash Jason flat. No fancy angles—pure headlong charge.
Cynthia's eyes snapped: "Now!" she breathed.
Yes—this was what Jason had been waiting for.
Close Combat comes with a price: after unleashing, both Defense and Sp. Def plummet. And in the instant of pure commitment, the attack line simplifies—no weave, no feint.
For a fighter with ringcraft, that heartbeat of vulnerability is fatal.
Jason didn't backpedal—didn't even think about evasion.
Both legs stamped; cracks crazed the stone.
He stabbed the colossal hammerhead into the ground before him.
Klonk!
The weight bit deep. He anchored off it, locking his base.
Arms crossed, bracers shielding head and chest—pure guard.
And his eyes, fixed on the onrushing streak, muscles wound tight to breaking.
Impact came the next second.
Thump! Thump!
The first fist and first kick hammered his crossed arms. The shock rattled his guts; bracer and knuckles screeched, spitting sparks. The planted hammer scraped backward under the push.
But—he held.
Liko yelped; Nemona's fists clenched. To them, Jason looked like a sandbag taking punches on faith.
Only Cynthia saw the thread: "Don't worry—he's trading hurt for the opening! He's waiting for the biggest gap!"
Valiant didn't stop—a hurricane of fists, elbows, knees, heels poured over him. Jason's frame shook, as if it might come apart; but his boots and that buried hammer pinned him, no step back.
Pain washed over him—but his gaze only sharpened.
Watching. Measuring. Waiting.
Then Valiant threw the decisive strike of the string—every remaining scrap in one blow, straight for Jason's face.
There.
Light flashed in Jason's eyes.
Just as the white-hot fist grazed his line, he moved.
No big roll—too slow, lost counter.
He pivoted off the right foot, torqued left at the waist—microscopic, surgical.
The killing punch shaved his helm—the shock carved a shallow line across his cheek—
but it missed.
Already wounded, doubled down by Close Combat, Valiant's whiff left it in a hang of recoil it couldn't catch.
For Jason, this moment—this was it.
"—Hrragh!"
A roar bottled too long tore free, threaded with pain and the shove of do-or-die.
His hands, primed and ready, snapped to the haft.
Every last shred of strength—every ember of stamina—he poured into the head.
No time to lift overhead. He ripped it from the earth with a short, brutal upswing—
the finishing, second Gigaton Hammer.
Whsshhh!
The head screamed through air, tracing a savage arc—
and smashed, hard and true, into Valiant's chest—wide open after Close Combat.
WHONG!
Steel and energy detonated; the cavern boomed.
Time seemed to freeze.
Valiant's red eyes died the instant of impact.
It didn't even have time to cry out.
Power bloomed in its chest; the metal body flew faster than it came, tumbling, then slammed down a dozen meters away, coughing up a plume of dust.
Limbs twitched twice—then went still.
The fight was over.
Dust ebbed.
At center, Jason's Tinkaton finally buckled; one knee hit stone.
The hammer still propped him up, holding a swaying frame.
Head low, breath heaving, sweat and dust ran down his face to drip in the cracked floor.
He'd won.
But it was hard-won.
Liko covered her mouth; tears broke free—tears of joy. Nemona exhaled in a rush, legs giving way; only then did she feel the cold sweat down her back. Iono stared, mouth open, mind blank—
Unreal.
Cynthia's eyes held only honest admiration now.
A long gouge scored the ground from Jason's knee to the fallen Valiant beyond, mutely testifying to the force of that last swing.
Everyone still reeled; no one spoke.
Then a lilting "kekeke" cut the silence.
"Jason! Are you okay?!"
Haunter's shadowy shape flowed out of the gloom. Gast's face was all worry and ache.
At the first safe beat, she'd raced in, hovering at Jason's side. Seeing the lattice of wounds and the drained posture, her gaseous glow dimmed.
It hurt to watch—really hurt.
All fight long she'd hid behind a crystal, holding even her breath. More than once, when Valiant's strikes landed, she'd nearly bolted to throw herself in the way—if Jason hadn't made it clear beforehand: this was a duel. No one interferes.
She knew she'd last a single hit at best—her Shadow Balls and Hypnosis were laughable against an opponent like that.
But so what? Even if she was weak, she could take one blow for him—let him hurt a little less. And she'd gladly get one-shot for it.
That was Gast—pure to a fault.
Jason lifted his head, pulled a thin, reassuring smile.
"I'm fine."
His voice was hoarse, but steady.
Light washed over him; the pink plating and hammer dissolved, and he flopped back into a purple puddle. He sprawled, wobbled himself to test movement. After a moment to gather himself, he hopped step by step to the prone Iron Valiant.
Valiant blinked back to consciousness, eyes focusing as the bobbing Ditto reached it. The only thing in its mind was that last hammer.
Jason came to a stop, smiling, and asked cheerfully:
"Well? Convinced?"
~~~
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