"Whooo—"
A bone-piercing wind howled outside, slipping through the cracks of the carriage windows and blowing inside.
"So cold…"
Still half-dazed, Raven was instantly jolted awake by the chill.
He found himself inside a luxuriously decorated, old-fashioned carriage. The wheels creaked as the vehicle slowly made its way across snowy ground.
Raven froze for a moment, quietly surveying this unfamiliar setting.
Had he… crossed over?
As a flood of foreign memories rushed into his mind, he quickly pieced together his situation.
The good news: he had transmigrated into the wonderful world of Pokémon.
The bad news: it was thousands of years in the past—an era still locked in the Middle Ages.
In this age, Pokémon were not yet integrated into human society as in the anime or games. People here feared them, calling them "monsters."
And the body he now inhabited belonged to a sixteen-year-old prince.
The boy's name was also Raven, the third prince of the Kingdom of Eindoak. But in recent years, as the old king's health declined, Raven's two elder brothers had plunged into a brutal struggle for the throne.
Since ancient times, succession wars had always been cruel—brothers turning on each other, the victor king, the loser dead, fratricide and even patricide not uncommon.
To protect his incapable youngest son, the old king granted him a fertile territory, sending him far from the capital to live out his days in peace.
But fate had other plans. On the journey to his lands, their convoy had been delayed by attacks from wild Pokémon. Now winter had set in, and they still hadn't reached their destination.
Caught in a blizzard, they lost their way in the endless snowy plains.
Unable to endure the bitter cold, the original Raven perished.
Sorting through these memories left Raven with complicated feelings.
Eindoak… wasn't that the place from the movie Pokémon the Movie: Black—Victini and Reshiram / White—Victini and Zekrom?
Didn't that mean his two "cheap" elder brothers were the ones chosen by Reshiram and Zekrom themselves?
For a moment, Raven didn't know what to say.
But he quickly calmed down.
"At least I know where I am—ancient Unova, thousands of years ago. Better than ending up in some deadlier world…" he thought silently.
He mulled over his situation.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something shifting beneath the ornate, royal-patterned blanket beside him.
Blinking, Raven cautiously lifted the cover—and froze.
A serpentine creature lay curled beneath, its slender body glimmering with pale blue scales, its belly snow-white. Its violet, gem-like eyes stared at him pitifully. A small white horn was beginning to form on its forehead, white fins sprouted from the sides of its head, and its round white nose looked soft and comical.
The little creature shivered violently in the freezing air, gazing up with wide, watery eyes.
Snow fell heavily outside, and though the carriage offered some shelter, it was far from warm.
The instant Raven recognized it, he sat stunned.
That was… a Dratini?!
The juvenile form of the pseudo-legendary Dragonite!
What was it doing here?!
Shocked, he rifled through the original owner's memories and soon found the answer.
It turned out the old king had given it to him as a parting gift.
Dratini didn't exist naturally in Unova. This one was a tribute from a foreign land—rare and precious.
Because of its weak strength and gentle nature, it lacked the aggression of other "monsters," making it an ideal pet.
And so, this Dratini had been presented to him as a "gift to keep him company."
"Wuu…"
Deprived of its blanket, Dratini shivered harder, whimpering pitifully.
Raven: "…"
Of course.
As a Dragon-type, Dratini was naturally vulnerable to cold and ice.
He quickly covered it back up with the blanket.
Just then, the carriage lurched to a stop.
Crunching footsteps approached. The curtain was pulled aside, letting in another gust of icy wind. A young man, around twenty-five, clad in medieval armor with a helm upon his head, appeared.
At that moment, Raven caught sight of the snow-covered land outside. A group of people stood on the snowy plains, their faces pale against the frost.
According to the memories, they were retainers and commoners sent by the old king to accompany him to his territory.
The armored man, his face tense, spoke urgently:
"Your Highness Raven, many in the convoy have come down with fevers. Without timely rest and treatment, I fear they won't be able to go on!"
Raven turned to look.
These were his people, entrusted to him by the king.
Originally, their convoy had over five hundred. Wanting his youngest son to live comfortably, the old king had assigned him an entourage of attendants—stewards, guards, knights, maids, carpenters, blacksmiths, gardeners, barbers, cooks, and more.
Now fewer than a hundred remained.
Wild Pokémon attacks, coupled with a devastating blizzard, had thinned their numbers. Many had become separated, and in this world—sparsely populated, with humans too weak to challenge the "monsters"—those lost were unlikely to survive.
Raven's expression darkened.
He saw them watching him in return.
Women clutching infants, girls with cheeks raw from frost, guards with frostbitten ears…
Faces pale with despair, eyes dulled by grief. Many had lost friends or family in the blizzard. Hope had all but fled them.
Yet the moment Raven stepped out, their gazes lit faintly with expectation, as though grasping at a final chance of survival from the prince before them.
Raven: "…"
No food, no shelter. Not just them—he himself was staring at death's door.
In weather like this, reaching their destination alive was near impossible.
Just as hopelessness weighed heavy on him, something flickered before his eyes.
A panel appeared.
[Lord's Name: Raven]
[Territory: None]
[Subjects (Humans): 78 (Click for details)]
[Subjects (Pokémon): 3 (Click for details)]
[Loyalty: 2 (Precarious)]
[Satisfaction: 0]
[Technology: None (Unlock with Satisfaction)]
Raven froze.
This… was his cheat ability?
"Your Highness Raven…" the armored knight called, worried by his silence.
He didn't want to die out here in this frozen wasteland, but with no solution left, all he could do was cling to the young prince he had sworn to serve.
The call snapped Raven back to reality. Pushing the panel aside, he turned his gaze back to the shivering survivors, considering carefully.
They were lost. In their condition, it was impossible to keep wandering aimlessly.
At this rate, they'd freeze to death.
First priority: find shelter from the storm.
Not here, though. Not on this open plain.
Looking farther ahead, Raven's eyes caught the faint outline of snow-capped mountains and forests beyond the plains.
Fresh water, food, timber for housing—if they could reach there, they might just survive this winter.
Fortunately, thanks to the old king's generosity, their caravan carried abundant supplies: food, clean water, tools, even seeds of various crops.
Still—it was December. At least two months of harsh winter lay ahead.
Raven did the math. With their reduced numbers, the provisions should be just enough to last until spring.
For now, food wasn't the immediate concern. He glanced over the weary survivors, then turned to the knight—Lyon—and gave his first order:
"Stop moving forward for now. Lyon, I need you to scout the mountains ahead. Search for caves or any place we can use for shelter."
Lyon blinked in surprise, then quickly understood, bowing his head. "Yes, Your Highness Raven!"
(End of Chapter )