"Think about it, Shuckle," Lucien said patiently. "We sincerely invite you to join this territory, but you don't have to decide right away. You can stay here first, experience life for yourself, and then make your choice."
"Shu… Shuckle…" The group of Shuckle hesitated.
Earlier that day, they had been hiding quietly under a large stone, waiting for nightfall. When the stronger Pokémon were asleep, they planned to sneak out and search for fruit.
Unexpectedly, they had been captured by this human instead.
Yet, the two Pokémon, Dratini and Snivy, had told them something they could hardly believe. If they stayed, the humans here would feed them every day.
Not only that, they would be protected, able to live freely and without fear.
The Shuckle were tempted.
But… could that really be true?
As some of the weakest Pokémon in the forest, they had always lived in hiding, avoiding danger.
They had never known kindness from humans, only fear.
Could something so good truly happen to them?
They didn't know. But the offer was too tempting to ignore.
After a long silence, the group of Shuckle finally nodded, their soft voices rising one after another.
"Shu… Shuckle!"
Lucien smiled warmly. "I'm glad. Ryan, until the Ranch is finished, they'll be in your care."
He paused, thinking. Perhaps they could stay in the orchard for now.
Lucien pictured the wooden hives that beekeepers used. They could build something similar, small wooden homes along the orchard's edge, where the Shuckle could live safely.
There, they could eat fruit from the trees whenever they were hungry, and humans could simply collect their fermented berry juice at regular intervals.
It would be efficient, and harmonious.
"I'll take good care of them, Your Highness!" Ryan promised.
Lucien smiled softly. The boy had been overworked lately; every person in the territory had. For a moment, Lucien wished he could split one person into two.
But that was impossible.
"You've done well, Ryan," Lucien said gently. "Take some time to rest. I'm sure your Simsear has missed you."
"Yes!" Ryan's face brightened instantly. Just the thought of his monster waiting at home filled him with anticipation.
"Then go," Lucien said with a laugh.
Ryan saluted cheerfully, gathered the Shuckle in his arms, and hurried off toward home.
Before he even reached his door, he could already see the familiar figures waiting for him, his family.
Grinning from ear to ear, he raised a hand and shouted, "I'm back!"
There was no better feeling than coming home to those who were waiting for you.
Meanwhile, far away, on the terrace of Earth Sword Castle in Aindok, the Old King stood beside Victini, gazing down at the bustling streets below. Despite the lively scene, his expression was clouded with sorrow.
Beneath the kingdom's surface prosperity, turmoil was brewing.How long could this fragile peace truly last?
"Ahh…" the king sighed, his voice weary.
The kingdom stood on the edge of division.
Barons and viscounts throughout the land had already begun to take sides, pledging loyalty to one of his two ambitious sons.
If war came, Aindok would be split in two: the north and south torn apart, with the capital itself as the dividing line.
"Victini…" the old king whispered, his gaze lifting toward the gray sky.
In his youth, he had built this realm with his own hands, founded the Kingdom of Aindok, ensuring his people could live in peace.
Yet now, in his twilight years, all that peace was unraveling.
"Nini…" Victini's small voice trembled with sadness, mirroring his king's despair.
"I wonder how Lucien is faring…" the king murmured softly.
His only concern was his youngest son.
Almost six months had passed since Lucien had departed for his fief.
Was his child safe? Why hadn't he received any word yet?
What troubled the Old King most was this: if war truly broke out, Lucien's fledgling territory would be the first to suffer. What could he possibly do then?
His two elder sons had gone mad in their lust for the throne. To them, anyone who stood in their way, blood or not, was an enemy.
What did family mean when the crown was at stake?
At that moment, the old king bitterly regretted sending his youngest son so far away, safe from the capital, yes, but now completely out of reach.
Just then, a sharp cry pierced the air above the terrace.
The king lifted his head.
A carrier Pidove swooped down from the sky, gliding toward the balcony where he stood with Victini.
It landed lightly upon the stone railing, tilting its head curiously as its small claws clicked against the marble.
The king blinked, startled, until he saw the rolled parchment tied to the Pidove's leg.
A letter.
His trembling fingers untied the string, unrolling the parchment.
When his eyes caught the familiar handwriting, his breath hitched.
This... this was from Lucien.
Victini fluttered closer, peering at the parchment in curiosity, but unable to read.
"Nini?" it chirped softly.
"It's from Lucien!" the old king said, voice trembling with both joy and disbelief.
He began to read.
The letter recounted Lucien's journey from the royal city, his struggles through the snowstorm, the losses suffered on the road, and the desperate fight for survival in a frozen wilderness.
The king's hand tightened around the parchment, his heart aching with each line.
But then came words that eased his worry: how Lucien had found a valley, built homes from timber, tamed wild monsters, and established a new life for his people.
By the time he reached the end, the king's eyes were wet with tears.
Unknowingly, his youngest son, once a frail boy, had become a true leader.
"Nini?" Victini hovered anxiously, flying circles around the king's shoulders. It wanted to know what the letter said.
The old king smiled faintly, and with a voice trembling with pride, he read the contents aloud for Victini.
"That child… has grown up."
He let out a long, shaky breath. Relief mixed with melancholy in his tone.
Still, the worry in his heart did not fade.
Lucien had grown up surrounded by luxury, fed, clothed, and sheltered in the finest palace the kingdom could offer.
Now, in the wilderness, was he eating well? Was he warm enough? Were there dangerous monsters nearby?
The old king stared out into the distance, the clouds gathering beyond the horizon.
"Victini," he said quietly, "Lucien needs our help."
He closed his eyes, mind racing through what little he could still give, Manpower. Tools. Seeds. Supplies. Magical beasts…
When he opened his eyes again, they were clear with resolve.
"Pidove," he said to the bird Pokémon standing nearby, "I must ask you to remain in the capital for now. We need your guidance."
Then, he turned to Victini, his voice gentler now, tinged with both sorrow and hope.
"Victini," he said softly, "this is my final command to you. Go. Protect Lucien for me."
Victini's eyes widened, glowing faintly with blue fire. "Nini…!"
It fluttered closer, tugging at the king's robe, its expression full of worry and protest.
But the old man only smiled, resting a wrinkled hand on Victini's small head.
"Don't worry," he murmured. "I'll be fine… at least until the war ends. They are my children, after all."
He looked once more at the letter, his son's handwriting illuminated by the setting sun.
"Go, Victini. Lucien needs you more than I do."