Lance rode Zekrom.
Logan rode Mega Garchomp.
It felt as though they had returned to the most ancient era of dragons—fighting in the purest, most primal way possible.
Flesh against flesh.
Scale against scale.
Each collision between the two colossal dragons produced a scene that shook the heavens.
Mega Garchomp's evolved jaws clamped viciously onto Zekrom's neck.
Shark-like teeth were terrifying enough—
But under Mega Garchomp's crushing bite and tearing fangs, even Zekrom let out a roar of agony.
"ROOOOOOOAR—!!!"
Zekrom threw its head back in fury and pain.
Its steel-like black hide could not withstand Garchomp's teeth.
A chunk of scaled flesh tore free, crimson blood spilling outward.
That blood seemed to contain lightning itself.
Any living being touching it would be electrocuted instantly.
As the blood flowed, Zekrom's Teravolt seemed to intensify.
The voltage became nearly tangible.
Even standing atop Garchomp, Logan felt numbness creeping through his limbs.
His thoughts slowed under the pressure.
Stray arcs of electricity flickered in the air.
Driven into frenzy by injury, Zekrom struck back.
Its massive claw smashed into Garchomp's head, briefly dazing it.
The generator in its tail spun violently.
Zekrom pressed both claws against Garchomp's body and charged forward like a high-speed train.
The ground split into a deep trench beneath them.
With a thunderous crash, Zekrom pinned Mega Garchomp into a mountainside.
Rock shattered endlessly.
The entire island seemed to tremble.
CRACK—CRASH—
"ROOOOAR!!!"
Cross-shaped lightning exploded from Zekrom's body.
Pinned in place, Garchomp roared in pain.
Dragon savagery revealed itself fully—
Both Zekrom and Mega Garchomp had lost all restraint.
Opening its jaws despite the lightning, Garchomp unleashed Dragon Breath point-blank, blasting Zekrom backward through layers of shattered stone before it finally regained balance and stood again.
Riding atop their dragons, both Lance and Logan were in rough condition.
In such brutal close combat, amid relentless explosions, both had been struck repeatedly by shockwaves.
Their clothes were torn.
Blood streaked their faces and exposed skin.
Their heavy breathing was swallowed by the collapsing island.
This level of battle consumed enormous focus.
"Your Garchomp is at the end of its strength," Lance said coldly.
"If you continue, it will be in real danger. Will you really force it to fight on?"
Compared to Garchomp, who struggled to stand, Zekrom still radiated ferocious vitality.
Though covered in wounds and blood, its crimson eyes burned intensely, as if Garchomp were its destined counterpart—its Reshiram.
Mega Garchomp bore far more damage.
Bone spikes cracked.
Armor plates shattered.
It had already exhausted immense defeating Dragonite—
Now it had engaged in mortal combat with the Dragon of Ideals.
It had proven its strength.
Its near-divine power.
"You've done enough, Garchomp. Rest."
"The rest will be handled by your comrades."
Logan bent slightly, one hand pressed against his blood-soaked abdomen.
He was injured too.
Not life-threatening—
But enough to dull his reaction speed.
Despite its savage nature, Garchomp was calm and steady.
It understood.
Continuing now would bring diminishing returns.
It nodded.
Logan flicked his wrist, releasing Latias.
"Heal Pulse!"
Without hesitation, Latias used Heal Pulse to mend Garchomp's external injuries.
But stamina and mental exhaustion could not be restored.
For now, Mega Garchomp remained largely unable to continue.
Lance clenched his teeth at the sight of Latias.
His Viridian Power was ideal for prolonged battles—
But against Logan, it was nearly useless.
Meanwhile, Latias could directly heal allies through moves.
Logan had long believed that flashy special abilities meant little.
Among true Elite-level trainers, how many possessed unique powers?
Very few.
True strength lay elsewhere.
In team depth.
Type matchups.
Move application.
Training quality.
Bond.
Trust.
Battlefield awareness.
Adaptation.
That was "strength."
Yellow's power was extraordinary—
But she was only a "one-turn powerhouse."
Against real Elite-level opponents, she had no path to victory.
Lance's Viridian Power was devastating against weaker trainers—
But against someone equal—or superior—
It became almost redundant.
"Strength comes in many forms," Logan said steadily.
"The number and quality of Pokémon. Type matchups. Move execution. Training. Bond. Trust. Battlefield control."
"All of that together is strength."
"…Lance, I can see it. You've grown complacent."
"For your so-called plan, you've neglected true training."
"You haven't fought equal opponents in too long."
"You believe yourself invincible."
"You rely too much on your special power."
"Right now—I am the strong one."
"And you are the weak one."
"If you keep fighting as though I'm still chasing you—"
"You will lose."
"So change your mindset."
"Come challenge me—as the strong one."
Logan raised his hand.
Psychic power enveloped him as Mewtwo lifted him into the air.
"Shut up!!"
Lance roared, clutching his collar.
He would never admit weakness.
Not before someone he once could defeat with a finger.
"Zekrom—Dragon Breath!"
"Latias—Dragon Breath!"
Twin streams of draconic flame collided midair in a violent explosion.
But the blast point leaned closer to Logan—
A subtle proof of Zekrom's superior power.
Yet battle was never one-on-one.
Logan steadied himself against Mewtwo's shoulder.
Around them, dozens of massive psychic-forged blades formed.
With a sweeping motion, Mewtwo unleashed them like torrential rain.
Facing the storm of weapons, Lance dared not underestimate.
He hurled a Poké Ball.
"Charizard—Fire Spin!"
A spiraling inferno rose skyward, melting the descending blades.
Seeing Charizard appear, Logan sighed helplessly.
"…Lance. As the so-called Dragon Tamer… what exactly are your Pokémon?"
Well.
Aside from typing—
Charizard did look like a dragon.
Dragonite has fallen.
Garchomp bleeds.
Zekrom crackles.
The brothers stand wounded.
And pride—
May prove sharper than any fang.
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