Chapter 15: Chapter 12: And It Gets Louder Part 3

Drestal was energetic and the proof was obvious. Intensity rippling through his fur like waves of obsidian. The age was in his eyes but with the musculature of his form and how piercing his gaze was, you could be mistaken for assuming this Pokemon was born sculpted out of an ocean of muscle.  This was not a builder's body, no matter how matted his fur was, or how wide his smile reached, the subtle twitching underneath showed that he was barely holding back the urge to run off slashing and biting anything that could bring a challenge. Even though Costello knew that he wasn’t going to attack, he couldn’t help but position himself, ready to react to any slight movement otherwise. 

Perrserkers are like this. This one, Drestal as the Lucario called him, has been battle ready for a long time. Calm and prepare yourself.

"Well," said the figure. The voice was hardy, deep yet welcoming. "Ye brought some new blood to clash, huh?"

Styles patted the back of her companion. “Of course I did. Wouldn’t want you getting too restless and coming up to start fighting rookies randomly again.”

“Well then... will they give me a proper challenge?”

From the lineup, the first to approach was Liam, a glow in his eye already apparent. 

"You can guarantee! I'd love to give a run for your money!"

Grasping his head as one would a fruit, Drestal lifted up the rabbit and put him on an equal, face to face level.

"So you’re the spitfire I’ve heard about! Heard you gave some of Styles trainees some issue. I've beaten fire types bigger than you, are ye sure you can handle it?"

"I’ve fought through tougher and taller! I'll be sure to leave you knackered”, answered Liam with a grin and a halfhearted attempt to jab at the feline’s face. 

As playful challenges were exchanged between the two, tension filled the two of the other members of Team "You Guys"...

Costello was still a stranger to the whole… combat thing. Hurting other Pokemon was an eventuality and his experience with Arno and that Machoke was proof that he had no real issue with violence when it came down to it. The issue was that the scrap with Arno showed him that he couldn’t really do anything when it came to someone with actual battle strategy. Type matchups were easy enough but the ins and outs of the game, strikes and specific blows, all things he was unfamiliar with. This was the deep end and now was the time to see how fast he drowned.

This is a test. Made by the Lucario and the Guild. Perhaps they once had to take this same kind of test.  Do not falter. Simply win.

They… he was right. They wanted to see if he drowned, but he was going to swim.

Zata however, knew this was coming.  Guilds don’t just accept you as a member out of nowhere. There were processes and no matter how they wanted to hide it, there was a barrier to pass through before they truly accepted you into the fold. Junior or not, she wasn’t going to back down from anything they threw at her. Drestal, Styles, Thea herself.  She was coming on top of this, and she was going to win. 

“Another battle test this soon,” thought Floe. Personally, they were hoping that they would be introduced to a library or go on a proper hunt for something meaningful. Not that a tussle wasn’t good as a palate cleanser but still, going from training to a spar after a day’s worth of experience? Such is the life of a junior member. Hopefully they win at least. 

---

As the introductions finished, Drestal discussed whatever business they had before the time came for the proper battle.

The rules of the engagement were simple. The 4 were given some time to plan out a method of attack while Drestal prepared. A situation of One vs Four that would continue until either Drestal or the team were unable to battle.  This was to simulate an actual encounter with an outlaw or Pokemon in a dungeon.  As they both took their positions at the edge of town, the 4 put themselves in a group huddle.

“Judging by our typing, guessing I’m the one to fight him head to head.  Double Kick and Ember would be the move but once I use Double Kick, I’m not gonna be a fire type anymore so it’s gonna be more of a pain once he hits me.”

Liam turned to Zata and Floe.

“Which is where you two come in. The bugger is gonna try to close the distance so you’re gonna have to slow him down the best you can. Zata, since you have Counter, you’re gonna have to be the one to mess with his defenses and draw the most attention.  Floe, you’re gonna  have to Blizzard him from away. Hopefully you can freeze him down.”

Liam turned his head to Costello.

“Cos, you’re just gonna have to chip him down and act as another nuisance. Sorry mate, your moves ain’t the best match.”

“Its fine. Just need to distract him from the rest of you anyway.”

“That’s the goal. Drive em barking mad!”

As the huddle separated, Liam put his paws together and looked around at his fellow teammates.

“We’re gonna be the best cause we’re gonna work to be the best. Best there were started from somewhere before they became the best and -.”

Zata promptly cut him off. “Enough with the bests and pep talk, let’s beat him down.”

As all four of them turned towards Drestal, they got into position.  Costello moving with Floe to the left while Zata moved to the right, leaving Liam with his eyes staring deep into Drestal's.

 

They were going to win. 

 

Drestal knew this before, surround him, make sure he couldn’t focus on the actual threat.  He expected the planning to come from the more experienced Glaceon, or either the Dragon Type or the Grass one. A surprise that the fire type would employ strategy but as Styles said, he was basically Soren’s kid. Whether they be the teenage whelps or the older ones, Drestal didn’t care about that. Win or lose - what mattered was that he was going to hit them. Hard.

From the sidelines, leaning against an abandoned shed, Styles began the proceedings.

 

“Ready… Go!”

From the right came Zata’s Screech, a piercing noise on the edge of blowing out Drestal’s ear drums hit him with the force of thunder as a cold chill went through his nerves. From the maw of the Glaceon came a Blizzard with the ferocity of a winter’s storm.  Under the cover of the chill, Costello proceeded to drive his shoulder into the stomach of the hulking raider.   As he attempted to jump away from the steel type, he was caught off guard by Drestal closing the distance and grabbing onto his legs.

“Ye ain’t fighting sum Dungeon beastie, lad,” he cried as he span the lizard by the ankles and sent him flying a few feet away.

 “Next up is the squealing lass!”  As the Screech died down, Drestal turned towards the wyrmling and approached in a full sprint towards her, ignoring the cold snap freezing over his shoulders.

“Shit!” Zata had barely any time to react as the firm paw of the warrior aimed towards her head. As impact became imminent, paw did not meet flesh but instead an invisible barrier that glowed a soft green upon impact, cracks forming on its surface. Turning his head, he saw Floe covered in a similar barrier and a lazy yet taunting smile on her face. 

“Clever G-”

His next words were cut off by a sudden spark to his face. As he turned his head, he was greeted by the cocky smirk of the Scorbunny.

“Oi Drestal, gotta keep your eye on the threat!”

“Of course, boy, I’ll get to you soon enough!”

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As the Perrserker marched his way to Liam, his march was interrupted by a sudden weakness in his left leg.  A green trail of energy leaving him and going straight to a kneeling Costello.

“Hard to focus when it’s four on one, right? I’d assume so.”

Another horrid noise filled the air as it enveloped Drestal, his head feeling as though it was bursting at the seams.  Yet even in his less than advantageous, he still felt excitement course through him.  That smile from his point of view turned into a menacing grimace as he proceeded to rush straight for Floe.  While an attempt to put up another Protect was attempted, it was not strong enough to stop the impact of a steel head plowing into them and knocking them back and into the wall next to where Styles and the rest of Team Themis resided.

Another attack came from Costello as he drove himself into the side of the hulking mass, this time keeping close and pounding into Drestal’s torso. As Drestal attempted a counter, the lagomorph proceeded to fly foot first for a Double Kick into the side of the feline’s head while Zata’s Dragon Tail went for the left ankle. Each of them ganging up on him in a sloppy act of violence but all that did was fuel the Perrserker’s need for more.  Grabbing Zata by the tail in the middle of her onslaught, he used her as a makeshift mace to push Costello and Liam back. While Costello was able to dodge the onslaught, Liam was less than lucky as the horns of the wyrmling connected straight into his chin. For the briefest of moments, Costello could swear he could see pride on the face of Drestal as Liam was barely able to keep his footing through his staggering. Finally, he ended his swing by slamming the body of Zata into the ground, leaving a dragon shaped imprint into the dirt.

 

“All of ye seek victory don’t ya! Then fight like it!”

Red eyes filled the gaze of Costello as he Leered at the feline, hopefully to distract him from the others as they regained their footing. As the wild cat noticed, Costello quickly backed away, keeping his crimson gaze focused on him. However, no matter how much distance he was able to put between the two, and no matter how much faster Costello was supposed to be in comparison to the berserker, Drestal always seemed to close the distance somehow, until finally, they had gripped him into a tight bear hug. 

“Ye fought well, with a good plan. But not good enough!”

As a silver light glowed from atop the head of Drestal, a dread conclusion was reached by Costello. Up until this point, Drestal had not used any moves against the 4 of them. This was pure physicality.

Brace yourself. This will hurt when you wake up.

In one moment, Costello saw stars, while in the another, consciousness slipped his grasp.

As Floe got back on their feet, they saw how the fight was going. Zata was in a crater, Costello had been headbutted to oblivion and Liam was barely on his feet.  This battle was basically over but they knew that Liam wouldn’t be satisfied with this just yet. With their eyes closed, they wished, and a starry glow overcame the rabbit.  A smile crossed their face as soon they found themself routed under the dull edge of Drestal’s blade. 

 

Liam was…

...woo, just a minute.

Liam was not holding up as well as he should’ve. Floe did… something. They said they had Wish in their skill set so it was probably that but still. Zata’s head was hard, and his chin was killing him.

“C’mon laddie. One more push! Lemme see what you have!”

As he stumbled to a fighting position and lifted his aching head to stare at his foe, with renewed vigor, Liam unleashed an Overheat of Massive proportions at the Perrserker, the tips of his helmet seemingly melting under the pressure.  While the massive surge of heat did more than Liam was expecting, it was not enough as through the red flames coming from Liam’s gullet, a blade cloaked in shadow landed a solid blow against the chin of Liam, and with a stumble, the rabbit fell onto his back. 

As the final member was struck down, Styles lifted her arm. 

“Well Styles, they did well.”

“Ah, just like my first try. Was a normal sparring session ever enough for you?”

“Of course not! How could I get a view of their strength if they didn’t aim for absolute victory! Not to mention if they're going to fight real baddies, then they must learn to deal with them.”

“Yeah, yeah. Lumi, Arno! Help me pick these four up and get the berries.”

---

With the taste of an Oran berry to rouse him, Costello awoke on his back to his three teammates nursing their bodies and a headache coursing through his cranium.

Told you.

“Well,” asked Costello. “How’d we do?”

“Oh, you got destroyed”, laughed Styles. A faint twitch came as she laid a paw on Costello’s shoulders.

 “But that’s just what happens. Drestal kicked my group’s ass and they kicked my current one’s ass.”

“But did we do better than you?” Liam seemed the least worse for wear even with the wicked bruise forming on the side of his head.

Arno in response, shoved another Oran berry down his gullet.

“Only slightly. You at least had a strategy for your first attempt to fight Drestal.”, answered Lumi. “Arno and I weren’t as… aware. I was launched tens of feet in the air and Arno was put through a wall.”

“And we still finished the fight!”

“Styles had to drag him away cause Drestal broke his arm and he refused to give up even though he looked as though someone ambushed him.” Lumi turned a smile at her defensive teammate. “But sure, we finished the fight.”

“Well, we endured at least”, said Floe as they struggled to get to their feet.

“And you'll endure again, as is tradition.” A wicked grin striked the face of Styles.  “You’re coming back every 3 days.”

“All of ye did wonderfully. I cannot wait to trade strikes with all of you again.”  As he finished that statement, a similar grin spreading across his gruff face.

“That damned grin again, seemingly genetic”, mumbled Costello as he laid his head back into the soft, soft grass.

---

Thea was going to kill him. That was the thought that stained the mind of Caspian.  He was asked to keep his mits on that telegram or message or whatever it was called here but it was this damned body. Constantly wanting to gnaw on something or swim or just do something.  No that wasn’t fair, but he still shouldn’t have lost that note.  First day not spent cooped up in housing with the Shinx and already it was off to a bad start. Nothing against Ion but she kept bugging him about what Alzbell saw and the whole- wait, snapback and rewind. The focus was on the note.

“Ughhh, it was shiny and sparkling and had a blue bow on top, how could no one have seen it?”

Retrace his steps, ask around, do something! 

First, he got out from Alzbell, then Alzbell sent him to meet the mail Pelipper and get his tea bags which were on the outside of town for some reason. Got the letter, got back to Seva and bumped into…

The events lined up perfectly. The odd feeling of lightness to his pouch, the oddly sweet smell of desperation and shame. The disparaged voice of a Pokemon whipped to oblivion.  To the Totodile,  it all pointed to...

“A goddamned Salandit!”

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