The two Garchomp were moving at such blinding speed that they nearly surpassed the limits of human eyesight. To the spectators, only two blurry afterimages could be seen clashing back and forth across the open plain, each impact stirring up violent gusts of wind.
Yet Cynthia's expression was far from calm.
As one of the most elite Trainers, she was used to battles at the highest level—no matter how fast Pokémon moved, her sharp mind could keep up, allowing her to issue precise commands. But what was unfolding before her eyes was something she hadn't anticipated: Logan's Garchomp was relentlessly pressing the attack, while hers was forced entirely into defense, unable to find even a single opening to counterattack.
This wasn't because of speed. Both Pokémon were Garchomp, both trained by top-tier champions. Their physical ability and quickness were evenly matched. No—this disparity came down entirely to skill and technique.
Cynthia had initially expected Logan to open cautiously, probing with a move or two before advancing. But instead, he had commanded his Garchomp to rush in immediately—closing the distance and forcing a brutal close-quarters fight.
At this range, many of Cynthia's most trusted techniques were useless. Moves like Dragon Rush or even Hyper Beam demanded charging time and space to maneuver. Locked into a melee, her Garchomp could only rely on raw physical techniques like Dragon Claw or Dragon Tail.
Normally, Cynthia wasn't intimidated by close combat. Her Garchomp had faced many physical fighters before and prevailed. But in this head-to-head duel… the difference was glaring. Logan's Garchomp fought like a seasoned martial arts master, drawing twice the effect from the same force—while hers looked clumsy in comparison, a brawler with muscle but no finesse.
Wait… wasn't this Kanto Champion supposed to be a specialist in Dragon-types? Why did he also fight like a master of hand-to-hand combat? Then again, she corrected herself—Garchomp was a dragon. In that sense, Logan truly was still a Dragon Master.
Cynthia's golden hair swayed in the storm winds conjured by their clash. She narrowed her eyes, watching Logan casually stroll along the battle's edge, his Champion's cloak whipping violently. To the untrained eye, his posture seemed riddled with openings—as though striking him directly could end the fight instantly. But Cynthia wasn't fooled. That was deliberate. He was baiting her.
And the Eevee perched lazily on his shoulder was a constant, silent guard. Anyone foolish enough to target Logan himself would instantly regret it.
Her Garchomp was steadily accruing scratches and gashes from Logan's partner's claws. Cynthia's options narrowed:
Create distance for her Garchomp to unleash ranged power.
Break the flow of battle with another Pokémon to disrupt the rhythm.
But neither path was viable. Logan's Garchomp stuck like glue, refusing to allow retreat. And this was supposed to be a one-on-one duel—sending in another Pokémon would be tantamount to conceding.
Her chest tightened with frustration. For a fleeting moment, she envied his overwhelming dominance. But she forced her emotions down, keeping her composure. A lesser Trainer would already have panicked and blundered.
Then Logan's taunting voice reached her:
"Miss Cynthia, your Garchomp's close-combat skills aren't very impressive, are they? You really had a year and a half of travel ahead of me? What were you doing in all that extra time—taking naps? If this is your strongest Pokémon, I have to admit… I'm a little disappointed."
Cynthia's eyes flashed. This man's tongue was as sharp as his claws. His trash talk was vicious. She steadied her breathing, suppressing the spark of irritation.
But her Garchomp wasn't so disciplined. Hearing that mocking tone, it roared in fury, eyes blazing.
"Don't listen to him, Garchomp—focus!" Cynthia shouted quickly.
Too late.
Logan's Garchomp seized the moment. With a savage slash of its claws, it raked across her partner's chest, then lunged forward to sink its jaws into the joint where Cynthia's Garchomp's wings connected.
A roar of pain split the air. Cynthia's partner fought valiantly, thrashing with feral determination, refusing to collapse despite the agony. For a brief instant, its sheer tenacity bought it space to resist further attacks.
He's not just commanding strength, Cynthia realized grimly. He's manipulating emotion. His timing was flawless—he struck right as my Garchomp's anger boiled over. He can provoke even dragons themselves…
Her Garchomp was far from weak. It was her ace, her pride, unmatched across Sinnoh. In terms of raw power, speed, and versatility, it was every bit as strong as Logan's. Perhaps even stronger in certain aspects. But when it came to pure one-on-one combat—when dragon faced dragon—Logan's "Dragon Force" tipped the scales. His Garchomp simply refused to be suppressed.
Cynthia, after all, was an all-rounder. Her greatest strength was balance. She had no glaring weaknesses, her teams flowed seamlessly together. She was a master of adaptability. But in a duel like this, against a fellow Garchomp… against a Dragon Master empowered by some mysterious force… she was destined to lose from the moment she accepted these terms.
Still—she didn't hide behind excuses. She didn't think he's too strong. Instead, she accepted the truth: I'm too weak.
Since becoming Champion of Sinnoh, she had grown complacent. She lived in comfort, drifting day to day without hunger to improve. She had lost the fire.
Logan's cruel words rang true: her extra year and a half had been wasted. Had she used it wisely, perhaps she still wouldn't beat him, but at least she wouldn't be crushed so utterly.
Perhaps… coming to Kanto, as Caitlin suggested, was exactly the trial she needed. A chance to break through this stagnation.
The Sinnoh region was too gentle, too peaceful. Kanto, by contrast, brimmed with ambition, with restless souls chasing greater heights. Perhaps here, she could rediscover herself.
"...I surrender."
Her voice was calm, decisive. She admitted it outright.
Even though the fight had only just begun, even though her Garchomp still had fight left in it, Cynthia yielded. She had no intention of dragging this on, inflicting needless pain for the sake of pride.
That simple courage—to acknowledge her own weakness—already set her above most Trainers in the world.
Logan's eyes softened with respect. As expected of the Sinnoh Champion… only someone like her could accept defeat so gracefully.
Loss was nothing to fear. Everyone loses. Everyone is weak at some point. What mattered was acknowledging it and striving forward, not blaming others.
Cynthia understood this truth.
With reluctance, her wounded Garchomp was recalled into its Poké Ball. The storm of battle ended. Cynthia's proud, icy mask melted into something gentler.
"As Champion of Sinnoh, my training is still lacking," she admitted. Then, bowing her head slightly, she added: "Logan, would you allow me to travel with you through Kanto? Please—let me train alongside you. With your guidance, I know I can break through my bottleneck and reach greater heights."
Logan blinked, momentarily speechless. She was lowering her pride as Champion to ask this? Could he really refuse?
Besides—Cynthia, one of the most beautiful and formidable women alive, was asking to join him. What kind of fool would turn that down?
"I wouldn't dare claim to guide you," Logan said carefully. "But we can spar, learn from one another. I still have much to learn from you as well."
He wasn't underestimating her. If they fought to the death, his trump cards would eventually secure victory—but not without cost. Her potential was still immense. One day, she might even become Sinnoh's first "Grand Master."
Just then, their moment was shattered by a booming voice from nearby.
"HEY! You little brat, whose child are you? Running off all the way to my lab alone?! Do you want your parents to worry sick? Either you march home right now, or I'll call Pallet Town to send someone to drag you back!—YEEOWCH! Where did this Pikachu come from?! It shocked me!!"
Logan and Cynthia froze. Then they turned to each other in surprise, and without a word, hurried together toward Professor Oak's lab.
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