Ariel still did not speak during the next two battles.
Like a silent iceberg, he stood at the edge of the arena, his deep gaze fixed on the scarred and battered Gyarados in the center.
The air in the arena was thick with moisture and the scent of blood, every inch of space heavy with the struggle of the Gyarados, which was pushed to its absolute limit.
Its scales were curled and stained with blood, each breath accompanied by a harsh, ragged wheeze, while deep within its muscles, waves of tearing pain surged.
Its bones, worn down by the continuous, grueling battles, felt as if they might shatter at any moment.
That ability known as "Moxie" acted like a twisted halo, forcibly propping up its teetering consciousness.
It was unwilling to yield, filled with rage, countering its opponents with the most primitive ferocity, each attack carried with the determination of mutual destruction.
However, its stamina was like a bursting dam, and every burst of power brought it one step closer to collapse.
These two victories had been won with extreme difficulty.
The opponents were no longer as ruthless and lethal as Fierce Thunder; instead, they knew how to wear it down and toy with it.
That cunning Heracross utilized the balance between speed and power, constantly maneuvering and harassing, causing every heavy blow from the Gyarados to miss, while it left new wounds on the Gyarados's body time and again.
The Gyarados's massive body appeared cumbersome and sluggish on the arena floor; every turn seemed to exhaust all its remaining strength.
As a Gyarados Leader, when had it ever endured such humiliation?
In the crises it faced on ordinary days, wasn't there any that couldn't be resolved with a single Hyper Beam?
Even those Gym Leader Level Pokémon had to give their Gyarados pack a wide berth when they encountered them.
But now, it felt humiliated.
It was a stifling feeling of being played in the palm of someone's hand.
If, if only that man could say a word, even just a simple command, perhaps, perhaps it wouldn't have to be in such a sorry state.
This thought, like a thorn embedded in its flesh, began to take root and sprout in the depths of its manic heart.
It did not understand.
Why was it, clearly so powerful, forced into such a predicament?
Its arrogance was being worn away bit by bit with every powerless strike.
It began to doubt itself, to doubt its own fighting style, and even began to doubt the value of its own existence.
Ariel saw all of this.
He knew that the pride of a Gyarados could not be smoothed away in a single day.
It needed deeper blows, it needed to personally experience what a "desperate situation" and "powerlessness" truly were.
Only when it truly realized that reckless bravery alone could not surpass its limits would it willingly set aside that stubbornness and accept guidance from higher wisdom.
He needed to let this unsharpened blade be tempered in blood and fire to reveal its true edge.
The audience below, from their initial amazement to later concern, had now reached a state of numbness.
They watched the scarred and battered Gyarados; some shook their heads and sighed, while others cast looks of doubt and even condemnation at Ariel.
"This Ariel... he really is ruthless."
A voice commented in a low tone, carrying a hint of confusion.
"Yeah, that Gyarados is about to collapse, and he still won't command it. It's practically abusing the Pokémon."
Another voice chimed in, the tone unable to hide pity for the Gyarados.
Marius stood in the crowd, his hands tightly gripping the hem of his clothes, his knuckles turning white.
He wanted to rush up and call for a stop on behalf of the Gyarados, but seeing Ariel's calm, almost cold profile, all his impulses were suppressed.
He vaguely felt that Brother Ariel must have his reasons for doing this, but this reason was simply too cruel.
Finally, the next match, which was also the Gyarados's fifth match and the final one of the arena.
The opponent was a Blastoise.
The Blastoise was sturdy, its shell smooth, and its two cannons gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
It had just emerged from its Poké Ball, full of energy, carrying an unquestionable air of majesty.
Compared to it, the Gyarados's current state was more like a broken ship teetering in a storm, ready to sink at any moment.
The Gyarados's "Moxie" ability had already stacked to level four.
Theoretically, all of its ability stats had been significantly increased.
But at this moment, what it felt was not the fullness of power, but waves of weakness surging from deep within its body.
Its muscles were trembling, its vision beginning to blur, and every heartbeat sounded like a war drum—heavy and powerless.
Facing this fresh Blastoise, the arrogance deep within its heart was, at this moment, replaced by an unprecedented exhaustion.
It knew it had reached the end of its tether.
It had no confidence.
The Blastoise's Trainer clearly saw this as well.
He curled his lips into a smile of certain victory and waved his hand:
"Blastoise, Hydro Pump!"
Two jets of water instantly erupted from the cannons on the Blastoise's back.
They carried a whistling wind, wrapped in astonishing impact, and headed straight for the Gyarados.
The water flow carved two clear trajectories through the air, as if intending to pierce through everything.
In this instant, Ariel's gaze suddenly became sharp.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
"Gyarados!"
His voice sounded for the first time, clear and powerful, like a thunderclap breaking through chaos.
The Gyarados's body shuddered violently; that voice seemed to have the power to pierce through everything, striking directly into the depths of its soul.
It looked at Ariel, its eyes filled with a trace of incredulous confusion.
"Whirlpool, cover your whole body, defend!"
Ariel's instruction was concise and clear, without the slightest hesitation.
Whirlpool? Defend?
The Gyarados's mind went blank.
Whirlpool, that was its proud offensive skill, capable of whipping up monstrous waves and tearing opponents apart.
Now, this man actually wanted it to use an offensive skill for defense?
This was simply unheard of, violating all of its combat instincts.
Its body stiffened reflexively, and a surge of resistance welled up from deep within its heart.
However, the weakness of being at the end of its tether, the humiliation of being toyed with, and the vague, almost paranoid trust it had for the man before it, ultimately overcame its instincts.
It craved victory, and even more, it craved not to be toyed with anymore.
It wanted to know what this man could bring about.
Almost subconsciously, the Gyarados's body began to twist.
A powerful stream of water surged from within its body, rapidly wrapping around its massive frame to form a high-speed rotating blue vortex.
The vortex was not an unbreakable barrier, but a dynamic, constantly changing defense.
The water rotated at high speed, forming an energy field that enveloped the Gyarados.
"It actually listened to the command!"
"My God, what am I seeing? That Gyarados actually... followed through?"
The audience below instantly erupted in an uproar.