Krokorok's eyes widened in horror but the next moment, Crawdaunt's water-wreathed claw smashed into its torso with a brutal CRACK!
Silas exhaled sharply.
It wasn't that Crawdaunt had "become stronger" since their last battle.
It was simply overflowing with pent-up energy.
Too long without a serious fight.
So the attack didn't end with just one strike.
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
Crawdaunt's claws hammered into Krokorok's face-every blow landing squarely across the jaw, snapping its head back with sickening force.
Four blows.
That was all it took.
The Krokorok's face was swollen and warped from the impact, and its body collapsed into the sand, twitching faintly-alive, but barely.
Silas lifted a hand.
"That's enough, Crawdaunt."
He wasn't showing mercy.
Kindness toward enimes?
Please.
The only reason he spared this one was simple:
He needed to confirm his suspicion.
Silas tossed a Great Ball.
One shake.
Two.
Three.
Click.
Captured.
He shrunk the ball and locked it onto the back panel of his Pokédex.
Beep—beep—beep…
___________________________________
Krokorok —Desert Croc Pokémon.
The evolved form of Sandile.
They live in tightly structured groups.
The membrane covering their eyes protects them from sandstorms while enhancing heat detection.
Level: 31
Type: Ground / Dark
Gender: Female
Ability: Intimidate
Height: 1.0 m
Weight: 33.0 kg
Notes: Average development; no special traits.
Known Moves: Sand Attack, Leer, Bite, Rage, Torment, Sand Tomb, Pursuit, Mud-Slap, Embargo, Swagger, Crunch
Egg Move: Focus Energy
___________________________________
Silas smirked.
"So it is female. No wonder you stayed behind."
Everything clicked.
In the Sandile/Krokorok/Krookodile societal structure:
Males patrol the borders and hunt.
Females guard the nest, eggs, and newborns.
Silas tapped the seven eggs stored safely in his spatial backpack.
"Well… these seven belong to me now."
He signaled to his Pokémon to erase any remaining traces-tracks, drag marks, disturbed sand. After a quick cleanup, they retreated back to the sand dune where Silas had agreed to regroup with Murkrow.
He didn't wait long.
"Kraaaaw!"
A black shape descended from the night sky-Murkrow gliding down, feathers glistening like wet obsidian. It landed lightly on Silas's shoulder, cawing softly.
Silas pulled his cloak tighter.
"Let's go. We're done here."
He slipped into the night, leaving the desert behind him.
.....
Meanwhile…
The Krokorok pack returned.
But instead of peace…
They found emptiness.
Their lookout was gone.
Their eggs were gone.
Their nest was torn open.
Their rage was instant and catastrophic.
"KROOOOOOOO!!"
A thunderous roar tore through the night as they rampaged across their territory, smashing rocks, tearing apart dunes, and attacking anything that moved.
The next morning, multiple desert Pokémon tribes had been attacked by the enraged Krokorok herd.
It became so chaotic that Ranger units from Mauville City were dispatched to Route 111 to investigate the outbreak of violence.
But none of that concerned Silas anymore.
He had already left the desert behind and reached his next destination
...
Arrival at Mauville Outskirts
"We made it… the edge of Route 111. Mauville is right ahead."
Mauville City-one of Hoenn's major crossroads-was surrounded by solid walls built generations ago.
Silas had always assumed they were just defenses against wild Pokémon.
But a quick search on the TrainerNet database revealed the history:
Long ago, when the Hoenn League began expanding inland, the nearby grasslands and desert housed extremely territorial Pokémon groups. Attacks on residents were common. Even a full village massacre happened once.
So the early Alliance built fortified walls around all towns connected to Route 111.
Though the wild Pokémon threats had since been cleared, the old walls remained as relics of a harsher era.
Silas gazed up at them as he approached.
"Hard to imagine this place was once that dangerous."
He entered Mauville City and walked straight into the Pokémon Center.
He was exhausted.
Truly exhausted.
From Mt. Chimney's slopes…
To Fiery Path's dark caverns…
To the underground tunnels…
To losing his bearings and wandering onto the windcriest Grassland…
To the desert ambush…
To Steven Stone…
To the Krookodile raid…
Two weeks without proper rest.
He didn't even finish his dinner.
He collapsed onto his rented bed and fell asleep instantly.
Umbreon slipped out of her ball, silent as moonlight.
"Umbreooon~"
She curled beside Silas's pillow, watching over him.
Moonlight seeped through the curtains, painting soft silver across his tired face. The rings on Umbreon's body shimmered faintly, glowing like a guardian nightlight.
A peaceful night at last.
.....
The Next Morning
Silas's stomach growled the moment he woke.
He inhaled breakfast at the Pokémon Café, then returned to his room to sort the spoils of his hellish journey.
He emptied his spatial bag.
A mountain of strange materials spilled onto the bed.
Some gathered from Mt. Chimney's cliffs.
Some scavenged from Fiery Path's depths.
Some found on windcriest Grassland, others in the desert.
Many were so bizarre that Silas had to consult reference guides to identify them.
He continued sorting.
Spoink
Cottonee
The criminal couple's poison-types
Random desert attackers
None of these could be sold legally.
The Hoenn League banned open Pokémon trading/selling.
But the underground channels?
Perfect for this.
He'd unload everything in Mauville's lower market soon.
Then Silas looked at the seven yellow-brown eggs lined up on his bed.
Sandile eggs.
Each one worth a fortune.
He immediately ordered seven high-quality incubators from the Alliance's secondary channel.
Two hours later, a League courier rang his doorbell personally.
Silas set each egg into its own incubator, filled with nutrient fluid, and finally let out a relieved sigh.
"Good… you little guys are safe now."
He resumed sorting through spoils.
A pink gem from Spoink-containing pure Psychic energy-sold instantly through an official mission bounty terminal.
More Alliance points.
Next, he matched most captured Pokémon with League missions for rewards.
Only the pair of poison-types from the kidnappers remained-they were registered. Those would go straight to the black market.
Silas pulled his Trainer ID from the terminal.
"The League bans buying and selling Pokémon…
Yet runs the bounty platform where people buy and sell Pokémon."
He snorted.
"Nice hypocrisy."
As he turned to leave, he spotted the pile of soft, white fluff shed by Cottonee.
"Oh… this stuff is premium pillow material."
Silas smirked.
"Well then-time to make a little extra profit before I sell the Cottonee."
<><><><><><>
(End of chapter)