Time slipped away beneath the roar of Petalburg Woods' waterfall; half a month passed like ripples on the pool—calm on the surface, yet leaving clear marks on the two Pokémon.
For more than half a month, Lionel brought his two Pokémon to train beside the pool at the foot of the waterfall almost every day.
No live-stream lens, no barrage of cheering viewers—only sunlight, the sound of water, and two focused little figures training.
Although Lionel didn't go live, he edited short clips of Tyrunt and Feebas training each day and uploaded them to keep the buzz alive.
Sometimes it was Tyrunt practicing Dragon Dance on the rocks, red light swirling as its stubby legs moved with ever steadier rhythm; sometimes it was Feebas creating a waterspout in the pool, the vortex visibly wider and more stable.
The clips had no commentary, yet they let followers' imaginations run wild—
"Long time no see! Tyrunt's Dragon Dance looks way more proficient—it stumbled last time, but now it's got real style!"
"Why is Feebas drilling Whirlpool so much? With only that one move it won't get far in a Pokémon Contest!"
"Poster above, there's definitely more—streamer must be saving a trump card!"
"Streamer, spill it! What secret move are you grinding? No live for days—dying here!"
"Look how much Tyrunt's grown—so cool now, I want one!"
"Contest's almost here; when will streamer challenge the Gym?"
"..."
Speculation snowballed; the account's heat kept climbing instead of dropping, thanks to the mystery.
Riding on Champion Steven's fame and the novelty of fossil Pokémon Tyrunt, Lionel's followers quietly topped half a million… here in Petalburg Woods.
In the center of the pool, Feebas was still drilling its ice-and-water combo.
It swam to the surface, flicked a fin, and a three-meter waterspout spun into shape.
The vortex turned slowly, yet every filament of water seemed pulled by invisible threads, holding the column steady.
"Now!"
Lionel's voice rang from the bank.
Feebas shot from the water, body tracing a purple arc, and breathed Icy Wind onto the outer layer of the Whirlpool.
The freezing air didn't harden the water instantly; instead it crept along the spiral—
a thick shell of ice climbed from bottom to top, transparent layers revealing the still-spinning water inside, like crystal armor over the living tornado.
Five centimeters, ten… the ice was thicker than half a month ago, yet still crystal-clear.
More importantly, Feebas controlled the freeze precisely, keeping the inner current rotating at just the right speed.
Sunlight refracted through the icy shell, scattering rainbow-like flecks that drifted with the inner flow, as if a colored ribbon rimmed the frozen whirlwind.
"Hold it!"
Lionel clenched his fist.
This time the shell didn't shatter in two seconds.
Five, ten, fifteen… only on the eighteenth second did the first crack appear at the top.
Feebas was ready; it eased the Whirlpool's energy, slowing the inner current while withdrawing the Icy Wind.
Instead of a sudden crash, the ice peeled and melted layer by layer, ending in mist and droplets that vanished in the sun.
The whole finish felt choreographed—beautifully broken yet graceful.
"Brilliant!" Lionel applauded.
Feebas poked its head out, flicked its tail happily; its once-dull scales now showed a faint lustrous sheen under long energy nourishment—still no beauty, yet warmer in tone.
On a rock beyond the waterfall, Tyrunt's session was also nearing its end.
It stood atop the stone, took a deep breath, and red light flared around its body.
With a crisp howl, Dragon Dance began—no longer clumsy, the steps now woven into its own rhythm.
As its head swayed, the orange horn on its brow glinted, draconic might gathering; when its tail lashed, the wind rolled pebbles beside the pool.
Each footfall on the rock was steady and strong, like war drums echoing from the earth's depths.
Crimson light intensified, speed climbing; when it leapt between rocks, faint after-images flickered—
proof of its training: it had stacked Dragon Dance twice without noticing.
As the dance ended, Tyrunt didn't stop; boosted, it charged a nearby waist-high boulder.
At contact it opened its jaws, teeth now coated with visible frost—no fleeting chill but sustained Ice Fang energy.
It bit the rock hard.
A sharp crack rang out; the tough stone bore a clear dental imprint rimed with tiny ice crystals—Ice Fang's cold had seeped inside.
Tyrunt shook its head proudly, then smashed the rock with Dragon Tail.
With a dull thud the boulder shattered into rubble that scattered around the pool.
Tyrunt trotted to Lionel, clearly showing off.
"Nice! Well done, Tyrunt—you're getting stronger every day!"
Hearing praise, Tyrunt nuzzled his arm with Charm.
Over half a month it had grown to nearly sixty centimeters; its metallic scales gleamed brighter, limbs thick and strong, stubby legs pumping fast.
Its once-round head had lengthened slightly; the orange horn had thickened. Still cute, but the sharpness in its eyes could no longer be hidden.
Especially when using Ice Fang, amber eyes flashed cold—like an ancient apex predator.
"All right, training's over!" Lionel checked the sky. "Tomorrow we head to Rustboro City's Pokémon Center, register for the Pokémon Contest, then challenge Roxanne's Rock Gym."
Hearing this, Feebas happily circled the pool once, then swam back into its inflatable tank.
Tyrunt nuzzled his arm, throat rumbling contentedly.
Half a month of fragmentary updates had peaked fans' anticipation; daily private messages flooded in asking when the live would resume, what day the Gym match was… Watching the blinking notifications, Lionel smiled.
The time had come.
More than half a month of grinding was enough for these two fledgling blades to reveal their edge.
Miss Roxanne's Rock Gym—and the Contest spotlight—would be their perfect stage.
Lionel looked down at Tyrunt circling his feet, then stroked Feebas in the tank, and whispered,
"Ready? Our first real performance is about to begin."
Tyrunt rubbed his arm with soft growls; Feebas tapped the tank wall with its tail, as if nodding.
The evening breeze of Petalburg Woods, scented with grass and leaves, brushed the youth and his two Pokémon as they set out toward Rustboro City.
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