"Hippowdon—Earthquake!" Terran attacked first.
He didn't know the specifics of Gary's strength, but any trainer who had the nerve to lead with a Rock-type Pokémon against a Ground-type Gym clearly had some kind of plan. Whether it was bravado or genuine confidence, Terran wasn't about to hold back and find out the hard way.
"Rhyperior—Drill Run!" Gary ordered, choosing to meet the attack head-on rather than dodge.
"RHYYY!"
Rhyperior surged forward with thundering strides, its massive body shaking the arena floor with every step. The drill-horn atop its head spun to life—accelerating to a blinding rotational speed that generated a visible vortex of Ground-type energy around Rhyperior's body. Earth and stone swirled in a tight cyclone around the charging Drill Pokémon, forming a spiraling cone of destructive force aimed directly at Hippowdon.
"HIPPOW—!"
Hippowdon stamped the ground with all four legs simultaneously. The earth buckled and split. Seismic energy radiated outward in concentric waves—Earthquake, one of the most powerful and reliable Ground-type moves in existence. The shockwaves tore across the arena floor, cracking stone and sending plumes of dust erupting upward, slamming into Rhyperior's charging body with tremendous force.
Earthquake was super effective against Rhyperior's Rock typing. Under normal circumstances, it should have dealt devastating damage—enough to stagger any Pokémon, possibly enough to stop a charge dead in its tracks.
Rhyperior didn't even slow down.
"WHAT?!"
Yuko's scream echoed through the empty stadium. Her eyes went impossibly wide as she watched Rhyperior barrel straight through Hippowdon's Earthquake as though it had been hit by a light breeze rather than a super-effective seismic assault. The Drill Pokémon's stride faltered for barely a fraction of a second—a minor hitch in its momentum, like a truck hitting a speed bump—before it continued its charge with undiminished power.
EX Solid Rock, Gary thought with cold satisfaction. Earthquake is two-times effective against Rhyperior's Rock typing. But with EX Solid Rock reducing super-effective damage by 50%, it's hitting as hard as a neutral attack. And Rhyperior's physical Defense is enormous. A neutral-power Earthquake from a Level 42 Hippowdon against a Level 63 Rhyperior's physical bulk? That's barely a scratch.
Terran's eyes narrowed sharply. He'd seen Earthquake connect cleanly—the shockwaves had hit Rhyperior dead center. And yet the massive Pokémon was still coming, still accelerating, its drill-horn screaming with rotational force. Something was very wrong with the damage calculation.
It should have taken significant damage from that. It didn't. There's an Ability at work here—something that's reducing the super-effective multiplier. But what? Solid Rock only cuts 25%... unless it's been enhanced somehow.
He didn't have time to analyze further. Rhyperior was closing the distance fast.
"Hippowdon—Take Down! Meet it head-on!" Terran ordered, choosing aggression over retreat. Hippowdon's massive body wasn't built for evasion—its strength lay in trading blows, and Terran trusted its bulk to absorb the impact.
"HIPPOW!"
Hippowdon lunged forward, its enormous weight driving it into a charging tackle. Take Down—a powerful Normal-type physical attack that sacrificed a portion of the user's own health as recoil damage.
The two Pokémon collided in the center of the arena.
CRAAAASH!!
The impact was seismic. The ground cracked beneath them. Dust and debris exploded outward in a shockwave that rattled the stadium walls and sent loose sand swirling through the already raging Sandstorm. The sound was like two boulders colliding at full speed—a deep, resonant boom that vibrated in the chest.
But the contest wasn't even close.
Rhyperior's Drill Run carried the momentum of a Champion-tier Pokémon twenty-one levels above its opponent, backed by STAB and channeled through a spinning horn designed specifically for penetrating force. Hippowdon's Take Down was powerful for its level, but it was a Normal-type move without STAB—raw weight and aggression without the cutting edge of type advantage.
Hippowdon's charge was halted instantly. Then reversed.
The Heavyweight Pokémon was shoved backward—its feet gouging furrows in the arena floor as Rhyperior drove it across the field like a bulldozer pushing rubble. Hippowdon's eyes went wide with shock and pain as the spinning drill tore into its guard, and then its back slammed into the arena wall with a bone-jarring crash.
BOOM!
"HIPPOW—!!" Hippowdon let out a strangled cry. Cracks spiderwebbed through the reinforced wall behind it. The impact alone would have been devastating—but the collision had also triggered Take Down's recoil, adding self-inflicted damage on top of the punishment from Drill Run.
Hippowdon sagged against the wall, barely clinging to consciousness.
"Ice Punch!" Gary ordered immediately, giving no quarter.
Rhyperior was already in close range. Its right arm pulled back—massive, boulder-like, its fist wreathed in a sheath of crystalline blue-white energy. Frost crackled and spread across its knuckles as the temperature around Rhyperior's fist dropped below freezing in an instant.
The punch drove forward with the mechanical precision of a piston.
CRACK!!
Ice Punch connected with Hippowdon's exposed flank. The ice energy detonated on contact—a burst of freezing force that spread frost across Hippowdon's sandy hide and sent a spiderweb of ice crystals racing across the wall behind it. Ice was super effective against Ground-types, and even with Hippowdon's considerable bulk, the combination of Drill Run's damage, Take Down's recoil, and now a super-effective Ice Punch was too much.
"HIPPOW…"
Hippowdon's eyes rolled. Its massive body went limp, sliding slowly down the cracked wall before coming to rest on the arena floor in a heap. It did not move again.
The stadium fell silent except for the howling Sandstorm.
Terran and Yuko both stared at the scene—the cracked wall, the unconscious Hippowdon, the Rhyperior standing over it without so much as a scratch visible on its armored hide. The entire exchange had lasted less than thirty seconds.
"Hippowdon is unable to battle!" Yuko announced, her voice carrying a slight tremor that she quickly suppressed with professional effort. "Rhyperior wins!"
"Return, Hippowdon." Terran recalled his fallen Pokémon without hesitation, his expression grave but composed. He studied the Poké Ball for a moment—silently acknowledging his partner's effort—then clipped it back onto his belt.
Rhyperior turned and lumbered back to Gary's side of the field, its heavy footsteps leaving deep impressions in the sandy floor. Despite having just fought, it looked completely fresh—no visible fatigue, no sign of damage, not even heavy breathing. The Sandstorm continued to swirl around its body, and the Rock-type's passive Special Defense boost made its stance look even more imposing.
"You're very strong," Terran said, his tone carrying new weight. The casual warmth of their earlier conversation had been replaced by the focused respect of one combatant acknowledging another. "It seems I need to take this seriously."
"Gym Leader Terran, please don't hold back," Gary replied. "Rhyperior is one of the first Pokémon I raised. According to the Gym's level-matching rules, it's being limited considerably. Your Pokémon are fighting against a fraction of its true capability."
Yuko, watching from the sideline, bristled. He's saying his Rhyperior is being held back? Hippowdon was Dad's strongest battle-ready Pokémon, and it didn't even last one round! What would happen at full power?!
But beneath her indignation, a cold knot of worry was forming in her stomach. The Scorching Sands TM suddenly felt very far away.
Terran absorbed Gary's words in silence. The boy wasn't boasting—his tone was matter-of-fact, informational. The kind of statement a trainer made when they wanted their opponent to push harder, not when they were trying to intimidate.
"Although I'd love to fight with everything I have," Terran said, a note of professional pride entering his voice, "the Pokémon from my father's era aren't mine to use in Gym battles. The team I field here—these are Pokémon I raised myself. They represent my own strength, not my legacy."
Like Brock's father Flint in Pewter City, Terran had inherited the Silvercrown Gym from his own father—a man who had been a formidable trainer in his prime. The elder Terran's Pokémon still resided at the Gym, but they were retired veterans, not active combatants. Terran fought every Gym battle with the team he'd built from scratch, a point of honor that defined his identity as a Gym Leader.
"Then please send out your next Pokémon," Gary said.
Terran nodded. He reached for his second Poké Ball—and this time, there was no hesitation.
"Torterra—I'm counting on you!"
The ball burst open, and a massive, quadrupedal Pokémon materialized on the arena floor. Torterra—the Continent Pokémon—landed with a weighty thud that cracked the earth beneath its feet. Its enormous shell was a miniature landscape in itself: a living tree growing from its back, surrounded by rocky formations and patches of moss. The Pokémon's ancient, stoic face regarded the battlefield with calm determination.
[LV46 Torterra — Gym-tier]
Torterra, Gary thought, immediately identifying both the opportunity and the threat. Grass/Ground dual-type. The so-called "traitor" of Ground-type teams.
The label was harsh but not inaccurate. Before the introduction of later generations, Torterra had been the only Grass/Ground-type Pokémon in existence. Its Grass typing gave it a devastating advantage against other Ground-types—the very Pokémon it was supposed to be allied with. In competitive circles, it had earned the unflattering nickname of "Ground-type traitor" because its best role was often beating the teammates it was supposed to support.
But against Rhyperior specifically, Torterra was a genuine threat. Grass-type moves dealt four-times effective damage to Rhyperior's Ground/Rock typing. Even with EX Solid Rock reducing that to two-times, a strong Grass attack could still deal significant damage.
Although, Gary noted with his analytical eye, Torterra has a fundamental problem. Its strongest offensive stat is physical Attack, but its best Grass-type moves are special attacks. Its Ground-type movepool caps at Earthquake—100 base power, which is strong but not overwhelming. And its defensive typing gives it four weaknesses: Ice, Fire, Flying, and Bug. Three of those are extremely common offensive types.
From the sideline, Yuko's spirits lifted. She knew Torterra's capabilities well—it was one of her father's most reliable Pokémon, and its Grass typing was the perfect counter to Rock/Ground-types like Rhyperior.
Grass Knot will end this, she thought with renewed confidence. Four-times effective against Rhyperior, and Rhyperior weighs over 300 kilograms—Grass Knot's power scales with the target's weight. That's 120 base power minimum, with four-times effectiveness on top. Even with whatever weird Ability that Rhyperior has, there's no way it survives that.
"Rhyperior—charge!" Gary ordered without hesitation.
"RHYYY!"
Rhyperior lowered its head and surged forward, its massive body building momentum with every thundering step. Heat began to shimmer around its form—a reddish glow emanating from within, as if the Pokémon's internal furnace was being stoked to full power.
Terran watched the charge begin, and his expression sharpened. He didn't issue a command immediately—didn't need to. Torterra wasn't built for speed, but it didn't need to be. It just needed to wait.
Rhyperior was heavy. Extraordinarily heavy. And heavy Pokémon that charged in straight lines were vulnerable to one specific technique.
"Now—Grass Knot!" Terran commanded, his timing precise.
"TERRA!"
Torterra didn't move. It didn't need to. The Continent Pokémon channeled its Grass-type energy directly into the earth—reaching out through the loose sand and soil with root-like tendrils of green power. At Rhyperior's feet, the ground erupted. Thick, vine-like loops of concentrated plant energy burst from the soil—knotting together in twisted rings that snared around Rhyperior's ankles with the speed of a striking serpent.
"What—!" Gary's eyes widened. He'd anticipated a ranged Grass attack—Energy Ball, Razor Leaf, something he could order Rhyperior to dodge or power through. But Grass Knot was different. It was a trap move—one that used the target's own momentum and weight against it. The heavier and faster the target was moving, the more devastating the trip.
And Rhyperior weighed over 300 kilograms and was moving at full charge.
The vines caught Rhyperior's feet mid-stride. The Drill Pokémon's momentum worked against it—its massive body pitched forward uncontrollably, and it slammed face-first into the arena floor with catastrophic force.
BOOOOM!!
The impact shook the entire stadium. The arena floor cracked and cratered beneath Rhyperior's fallen body. Dust billowed outward. The crash was so violent that even the Sandstorm seemed to stutter for a moment.
"RHYYY—!!" Rhyperior let out a rare cry of pain. Grass Knot's power scaled with the target's weight—at over 300 kilograms, the base power exceeded 120 at minimum. And it was a Grass-type move hitting a Ground/Rock-type target. Even with EX Solid Rock cutting the four-times multiplier down to two-times effective, and even with the Sandstorm boosting Rhyperior's Special Defense—Grass Knot was a special attack striking Rhyperior's naturally low Special Defense stat.
The damage was substantial. Rhyperior's armored hide showed visible cracks where the plant energy had torn through, and its breathing was noticeably heavier than before.
Without EX Solid Rock, that would have been a one-hit knockout, Gary realized grimly. Even with the enhancement, it still took a serious hit. Grass Knot at maximum weight against four-times weakness… Solid Rock cut it to two-times, but Rhyperior's Special Defense is still its weakest point. That's the fundamental limitation I can't enhancement away.
But Rhyperior was still standing. Battered, yes. Hurt, certainly. But conscious, functional, and angry.
"Rhyperior—Fire Blast!" Gary ordered.
"RHYYYY!"
The Drill Pokémon pushed itself upright with a growl of determination, planted its feet, and opened its mouth. Heat concentrated in its throat—building, compressing, intensifying until the air around Rhyperior's head shimmered and distorted. Then it released.
A massive, kanji-shaped blast of flame erupted from Rhyperior's maw—Fire Blast, the devastating Fire-type special attack. The five-pointed star of roaring fire tore across the arena, its heat so intense that the Sandstorm momentarily parted around it.
Terran's composure cracked for the first time. "Fire Blast?! A Rhyperior with Fire-type moves—?!"
He hadn't expected that. Rhyperior's movepool naturally included some Fire-type coverage, but most trainers never bothered teaching it because Rhyperior's Special Attack was mediocre. The move wouldn't hit as hard as it would from a dedicated special attacker—but against a Grass/Ground-type like Torterra, who was four-times weak to Fire, even a moderate Fire Blast was catastrophic.
"Torterra—Razor Leaf, intercept it!" Terran ordered urgently.
"TERRA!"
Torterra shook its massive body, and a barrage of razor-sharp leaves launched from the tree on its back—each one condensed with Grass-type energy, spinning through the air like green throwing knives. The volley of Razor Leaf met the incoming Fire Blast head-on.
BOOM!!
The collision detonated in the center of the arena—fire and shredded leaves erupting outward in a billowing cloud of smoke and ash. The explosion sent embers spiraling through the Sandstorm, creating a brief, chaotic vortex of sand and flame.
Vision was gone. The smoke was too thick, the sand too dense. Neither trainer could see the battlefield.
Gary didn't care. He didn't need to see.
"Rhyperior—Body Slam. Same position Torterra was standing in."