Earthquake. Base power of 100, and yet the attack had been cut to a quarter of its normal strength by both Floragato's Grass typing and the cushioning effect of the Grassy Terrain beneath their feet. It had still hurt, no question about that. But it had also proven something important: on this battlefield, Floragato could stand its ground against Gilbert's long-time partner.
"Floragato, use Grassy Glide!"
Floragato launched into a low, skimming dash across the flower-covered ground, closing the gap between itself and the massive Whiscash in an instant. On Grassy Terrain, Grassy Glide carried an edge in priority, and it connected cleanly before Whiscash could react, the impact resonating through the arena floor. The secondary force that rippled through from the blow added another layer of punishment on top of the Grass-type strike.
But Whiscash barely flinched.
As expected of an Elite Four member's oldest partner. Whiscash had seen more battles than Nova could count, and it had not survived all of them by being careless. Rather than retreating from the close-range hit, Whiscash leaned into it. The moment Floragato's momentum slowed, those long, thick whiskers, which looked almost like tentacles, shot forward and coiled around Floragato's ankle. In one smooth motion, Whiscash lifted the cat clean off the ground, flipping it upside down into the air.
Nova's breath caught.
That was Bind.
He almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Whiscash did not learn Bind. It was not in its natural move pool. And yet there it was, those whiskers wrapped tight around Floragato's leg with a grip that looked anything but ordinary. Gilbert, standing on the opposite end of the field with his composed and dignified expression, was apparently not above using a Pokemon with a move set that had no business existing.
Nova thought of Seele, his own Marshtomp, and the way it could do things that a Marshtomp simply should not have been able to do. Some Pokemon, through extraordinarily rare combinations of physiology, natural talent, and years of specialized training, crossed into territory that their species was never supposed to reach. It seemed Whiscash was one of them. Gilbert had identified something exceptional in those whiskers early on and had built upon it, shaping Whiscash into something that defied expectations.
Nova forced himself to focus.
Floragato was caught. Gilbert would not waste this opening. The next command would be an offensive one, and it would come fast.
"Whiscash, wash the little cat's face with Muddy Water!"
"Floragato, Sucker Punch, now!"
Floragato's typing shifted in the breath before the attack landed, its body taking on a Dark-type aura as the move activated. Then, before Whiscash could release the surge of murky water building in its jaws, Floragato snapped forward and drove its yo-yo hard against the top of Whiscash's head. Once. Twice. The blows landed with a dull crack, and Whiscash's attack collapsed inward, swallowed back down before it could be launched.
"That's it! Now use Slash to break free!"
Hanging completely upside down with no surface to push off from, Floragato pulled its core tight, curling its body against gravity in a way that looked physically impossible. It retracted the yo-yo and raked its claws directly across Whiscash's whiskers.
The Slash did not cut through. Those whiskers were far too dense for that, naturally tougher than any ordinary Whiscash and hardened further by years of training. But they were still sensory organs. Still sensitive. The blow sent a sharp jolt through the whiskers, and Whiscash's grip faltered just enough.
Floragato dropped and hit the ground running, immediately using Ally Switch to put a wide stretch of field between itself and Whiscash. Its left ankle was marked where the whiskers had dug in. It shook the leg once, then settled into a low stance, watching the enormous Water and Ground type from a safe distance. It had no intention of getting close to that thing again anytime soon.
Nova counted silently. Floragato had landed hits three separate times, and the follow-up force from each blow had added secondary strikes on top of those. Six impacts in total. Two of them Grass-type moves at four times the effectiveness.
Whiscash sat there, expression blank, completely unbothered.
Nova finally understood, in a way he never quite had before, how trainers felt when they faced his Nidoking for the first time. That creeping helplessness of hitting something again and again and watching it simply absorb it all. Floragato's ankle throbbed. It looked down at the marks left by the whiskers and then across the field at the creature that had left them. Its face was unreadable, but the question behind its eyes was clear.
Was it still not enough? Even in this evolved form?
"Floragato." Nova kept his voice steady. "One more time. Let's go."
Floragato's gaze sharpened. Nova was still there. That was enough.
"Petal Blizzard!"
The yo-yo shot outward, its vine string extending as it arced toward Whiscash. The flower bud at the end detonated on impact, and the arena was suddenly full of petals, sharp and spinning and relentless, washing across the field in a green wave.
Even Whiscash hesitated.
"Aqua Tail! Knock it back!" Gilbert called.
Whiscash twisted with surprising speed for its size, bringing its massive tail around in a wide arc. The tail was drenched in surging Water-type energy as it came down and struck the floral explosion head-on, shattering the concentrated petal mass with a sound like a wave breaking on rock.
Grass had the type advantage, but the raw difference in power between the two combatants was real. Aqua Tail dismantled the core of Petal Blizzard, though the dissipating energy that scattered outward still washed over Whiscash, and it was far too little to matter.
Gilbert looked at Floragato for the first time with something other than mild interest.
This little Pokemon was a genuine threat. He had underestimated it. That was not going to happen again.
"Whiscash, use Thrash."
Thrash was a blunt instrument. High power, no precision, and it would leave Whiscash confused when it finally stopped. But none of that concerned Gilbert right now. The confusion would come after the battle was already decided. Whiscash did not need to be sharp once Floragato was down.
Whiscash exploded into motion. It headbutted, body-slammed, swept with its tail, and lashed out with its whiskers, and it did all of it at once, careening across the shattered arena without any pattern or plan beyond destruction. Pieces of the broken field flew. The flower covering that had defined the Grassy Terrain was torn up and scattered.
Floragato moved. It dodged the first charge by a narrow margin, twisted away from the sweeping tail, ducked under a whisker lash. But the arena was not large, and Whiscash filled a significant portion of it. There was only so much room to work with.
After the fourth or fifth near miss, Floragato's luck ran out.
It cleared a headbutt cleanly enough, but the evasive movement left it airborne with nothing to push off from and no angle to redirect. The tail came around while it was still in the air.
The impact was brutal. Floragato was hurled across the arena and struck the energy barrier at the edge of the field with a sound that echoed off the walls. It slid down slowly, leaving a faint streak against the containment field's surface, and crumpled onto the ground below.
It did not get up.