Pokemon Paldea [307-308] (Patreon)

Chapter 307: Secretly Digging Soil on Mt. Silver

Lucas first picked up the inquisitive, bolder blue Shuckle and examined it carefully.

Hmm, no signs of being painted to pose as a shiny Pokémon.

"Zz-bop~"

Perhaps thinking Lucas was playing with it, the Shuckle giggled, its soft feelers poking out from its shell and swaying slightly, looking very happy.

"Vi-ni~!"

Victini, shut out of the bathroom, heard the laughter inside and grew immediately displeased. Victini slapped at the bathroom door with a scowl, wanting to come in and play too.

Victini's voice, in turn, misled the red Shuckle by Lucas's slippers. Unlike his sister, he was a slightly timid, more cowardly male Shuckle.

The red Shuckle poked out his head, watching his sister being lifted high by Lucas. A trace of envy glinted in his little black eyes.

Fortunately, Lucas had become an expert at balancing affection, so to speak, and knew better than to favor one over the other. He hadn't meant anything by it—he'd simply wanted to check whether he'd really hit the jackpot and captured a shiny Shuckle.

So after putting down the blue sister, Lucas picked up the red little brother and played "lift high" with him too, to his delighted surprise.

It was like the two guardians in Alto Mare—usually it's a red sister and blue brother; here the Shuckles' genders, colors, and personalities were reversed. Kind of interesting.

How did Lucas know the Shuckles' genders?
Naturally, from intel provided by Suicune—who for some reason gave Lucas a gentle, almost fussy (in a good way) vibe.

After settling the two Shuckles and soothing their moods, Lucas also took Victini for a few rounds to keep it happy, then spent a good while prepping a meal for Vulpix. It was close to midnight when he finally collapsed onto the big hotel bed.

The fatigue of a full day surged over him like a tide. He was out the instant he hit the mattress; even the blanket was pulled over him by a long-suffering Serperior using Vine Whip.

…

The next day.

It was the 29th—only one day left before the Dragon Clan's gathering.

Feeling the time crunch, Lucas checked out of the seaside suite, then rode Dragonite from Cianwood City's outskirts toward Mt. Silver, far to the east in Johto—practically the opposite extreme from Cianwood City.

By noon, the sky was a spotless blue with a few wisps of cloud.

A flock of Spearow led by a Fearow was flying in formation, planning to raid a rival Pidgey flock in another forest.

Suddenly, Fearow heard a deafening boom from behind. Before it could react, an orange figure wrapped in roaring wind ripped past over their heads. The gale threw the Spearow's formation into chaos.

"Caa—!"

Fearow froze, then rage surged to its head. With a hoarse shriek, it prepared to accelerate and teach that provoker a lesson.

But the figure vanished almost instantly from Fearow's view. All it remembered was a pair of wings that looked like toys next to its own span, yet each flap raised a storm, and a conical cloud wreathing the other's body.

As the details clicked, Fearow's hot head cooled.

In their handed-down memory, anything that fast in the air was an untouchable big shot. Realizing it had just contemplated provoking such a big shot, Fearow broke into a cold sweat down its back.

Elsewhere, on Dragonite's back, Lucas, cocooned in flight energy, glanced curiously behind. Did Dragonite almost hit a wild Pokémon?

Since it didn't, he let it go. He reminded Dragonite and then looked ahead.

In the distance, a mountain range surged and rolled—majestic and sheer, standing solemn over the vast land.

Its peak speared the sky, mantled in pure white like a blade cleaving the clouds.

That was Mt. Silver's main peak, perpetually shrouded in blizzards and bitter cold—off-limits to ordinary trainers.

Never mind the disasterlike weather. Countless powerful wild Pokémon hid in those mountains, their austere aura veiling the skies around Mt. Silver, repelling the weak.

A nightmare for novices, a forge for the strong—rare and powerful Pokémon beyond counting—and a treasure trove in poachers' eyes. Every year, countless Pokémon from Mt. Silver were captured and sold across the world.

Because of this, Kanto's League kept a tight grip on the area. Regular trainers had to register at Indigo Plateau HQ and enter Mt. Silver via League-cleared routes.

But some regions were too hard to police—these became poachers' smuggling routes. Lucas was using one of those aerial routes now, cutting across the sky with impunity, unconcerned about attacks from below.

Lucas's plan today was, in a sense, similar to poachers—but they stole Pokémon; he intended to steal Mt. Silver's soil.

Yes, a Paldea League Champion-tier trainer was planning to dig up Mt. Silver's dirt. Lucas figured if he told the truth at registration, he'd get weird looks—and the process would take too long—so he chose to slip in another way.

With Dragonite's aura as deterrent, no wild Pokémon should have dared to attack.

But there's never a shortage of hotheads—Pokémon included.

As Dragonite skimmed over a dense forest, a beam brimming with destructive power lanced skyward from below, grazing Dragonite's flank.

What the—

Lucas and Dragonite frowned. This wasn't deep Mt. Silver; Pokémon shouldn't be that strong. Which fool fired Hyper Beam to provoke them?

They weren't going to bother with the unknown hothead—until the other, thinking the hovering pair were scared by that shot, hurled a broken tree trunk into the sky and let out a taunting roar—

"Rooaaar!!"

With the goading echoing around them, Lucas and Dragonite exchanged a glance. The same thought was in both pairs of eyes.

Teach it a lesson—

Dragonite spread its wings, shattered the trunk with a swipe, and dove in a gale, landing precisely where the trunk had been thrown from.

In the forest stood a roughly two-meter-tall, robust brown bear—Ursaring—letting out a warning growl.

A big yellow ring on its belly—Ursaring, notorious for ferocity and territoriality.

The moment he saw it, Lucas's doubts cleared—

Figures. No wonder it pulled something that dumb.

Dragonite scowled too. Even Nemona's Ursaring would probably mop the floor with this one—what was this Ursaring's attitude based on?

Just as Dragonite was about to one-shot it, Lucas's sharp eye caught tire tracks not far from where Ursaring stood.

Tire tracks? Here?

Something was off. He looked around—thanks to the young Ursaring's overblown territoriality, there were no other Pokémon nearby. If he wanted answers, Ursaring was his only lead.

"Don't knock it out—just pin it," Lucas told Dragonite.

Dragonite paused mid-charge of energy, swapping the tit-for-tat Hyper Beam for a gentler Hydro Pump—

That's the convenience of Normal-type energy—most Pokémon can learn that nearly all-purpose control. With training, they can seamlessly switch it into other types.

Moments later, a soaked, matted Ursaring sat on its knees, its brashness gone. Under Lucas's questioning and Dragonite's looming gaze, it kept nodding or shaking its head.

To a passerby, Lucas and Dragonite would look like the mob.

Without a Pokémon interpreter, Lucas resorted to simple yes/no: nod if yes, shake if no.

Crude but effective—soon he'd pieced together the story.

First, Ursaring had indeed seen a suspicious group driving deeper into Mt. Silver. At the time, the dark tools in their hands terrified it, so it hid.

But after they left, the young Ursaring stewed over it and felt cowardly and ashamed—how would it pick up a mate like that?

The more it thought, the madder it got—and then it lost its head and provoked the passing Lucas and Dragonite.

And ran into a brick wall.

"Suspicious, driving in, carrying 'tools'…"

Lucas rubbed his chin, thoughtful.

Classic poachers. Mt. Silver really is ill-fated.

He didn't plan to meddle, though—he had core-zone soil to steal.

He whipped out his battle-scarred phone and snapped the tire tracks like crazy, then sent the photos, coordinates, and a brief explanation to Lorelei.

Kanto and Johto are one. Besides Professor Oak and Professor Ivy, the other contact he had was Lorelei, the Ice Elite Four.

She should alert nearby personnel to handle it.

Of course, Lucas wasn't the type to watch Pokémon get poached—that would violate his convictions.

So if he happened to run into those fools on his way to dig, he didn't mind playing a nameless hero—bag them and toss them to the Kanto/Johto League.

With that, he tossed a few stamina-restoring berries to the drowned-rat Ursaring, then mounted Dragonite and flew deeper into Mt. Silver.

This time, he had Dragonite fly lower. More dangerous, but easier for those on the ground to see.

Wild Dratini/Dragonair/Dragonite were rare in Mt. Silver.

But Kanto/Johto's famed Dragon Master and Senior Investigator—Elite Four + Johto Champion Lance—loved to ride his Dragonite to mete out justice.

In a way, Lucas was cosplaying Lance, to cow the skulking riffraff—make them think twice.

Maybe they'd tuck tail at the sight of a Dragonite overhead.

Watching the landscape race by below, Lucas looked up at the sword-like main peak splitting the clouds. Besides soil, he wanted to see with his own eyes if that trainer was there.

He hadn't found any info online, so he knew the answer—but he still wanted to check.

As for how and where to collect soil, he had a plan.

He couldn't just dig anywhere, nor did he have a way to test nutrient content on the spot.

Therefore, to find nutrient-rich soil, he needed another Pokémon's help.

The so-called Desert Tyrant—the rock/dark pseudo-legend that rules Mt. Silver: Tyranitar.

Other than a possible Moltres nesting in some cave, Tyranitar should be the apex lord here. But pseudo-legends start fragile and need massive energy.

Tyranitar's first stage, Larvitar, is rock/ground.

Studies note that after laying the egg, Tyranitar buries it deep underground in the mountains so that when Larvitar hatches, it's surrounded by special nutrient-rich soil to fuel a desert tyrant's growth.

Larvitar then eats soil nonstop, tunneling up to the surface, after which the parents lead it until evolution. Stored nutrients from its subterranean diet carry it through the second, "pupal" stage—then it "emerges" as a new tyrant.

So Lucas's path was clear.

Find a Tyranitar's home or territory—ideally a pair preparing to hatch—and quietly steal the "formula" meant to raise their kid.

Even Lucas felt a bit naughty.

"I wonder if digging Mt. Silver's soil is illegal…"

…

Near the inner reaches of Mt. Silver, a modified, massive jeep crept along a steep mountain road, its paint blending into the forest—hard to spot unless you came close.

Besides driver and shotgun, masked men sat in the open back.

They were dead silent—clearly not desperate amateurs; highly trained.

They moved toward a specific destination. When wild Pokémon blocked the way, the escorts' Pokémon handled them without firing guns and stirring up trouble.

They didn't bag those Pokémon, even rare ones.

After a long quiet, someone spoke, betraying faint unease despite the mask: "Boss, was that just now…"

The middle-aged "boss" in the passenger seat glanced back. "You mean—was that Lance, the Dragon Master, and his ace Dragonite?"

The man shrank, nodding slightly.

"We all saw someone riding that Dragonite."

"Shouldn't we turn back, or at least wait until Lance leaves?"

Even veteran poachers feared Lance—a living nightmare to their kind.

His aerial dragon legion was the source of that fear.

"No. This is the only confirmed intel on a Tyranitar pair about to hatch. Once they bury the egg, it's too late—we don't have tools we can bring into Mt. Silver to dig that deep."

"And if we fail the organization's commission—you know the consequences."

His voice was cold, with a hint of confusion and all-or-nothing resolve.

If he gambled wrong, prison at worst. If he won, he could take the reward and disappear, wash his hands clean.

Do nothing, and the vast organization spanning Kanto and Johto would not be kind.

He'd had no choice from the start.

…

Elsewhere, far away on the Sevii Islands—

A bespectacled, poised redheaded woman glanced at a message on her phone, surprised.

"He's in Mt. Silver?"

Lorelei didn't dither. After a moment's thought, she forwarded the intel to Lance, who should be near Blackthorn City in Mt. Silver's vicinity.

Chapter 308: Lance's Headache

Deep within Mt. Silver—core zone.

With Dragonite accelerating, the more primeval region finally came into view.

Along the way, Pokémon far stronger than that Ursaring attacked. Most memorable was a 11–12-meter Steelix.

It lay in wait in a high ridge and, with astonishing spring for its bulk, leapt up to Dragonite's altitude as they passed, iron tail ready to coil around Dragonite and Lucas.

At Dragonite's usual cruising height, Steelix would have had no chance—but Lucas had chosen low altitude to deter poachers.

Thankfully, Dragonite reacted instantly, shaping the wind with its honed skill to slide aside by a hair's breadth, then blasted an Overheat/Fire Blast—hammering Steelix back into the mountains.

The scorching dragonflame baked Steelix ceaselessly. Fire being its weakness, it could only dig down in disgrace to snuff the flames and dodge retaliation.

Lucas and Dragonite didn't linger for payback. Steelix's presence actually delighted them.

A Steelix that size and strength wouldn't live on the outskirts. Its appearance meant they were nearing the core area—where Tyranitar typically dwell.

"Tribe" is a bit of a misnomer. Tyranitar are very territorial, like Ursaring—male Tyranitar are possessive and don't tolerate intruders.

Once fully evolved, they're adults. Adult males won't allow other males in their territory, which means newly evolved young males face a father who "changes face" and drives them out.

Females only cohabitate during egg protection. Once the offspring are driven off, if a female fancies the male, she may stay; otherwise she returns to or seeks her own territory.

So Tyranitar generally go solo.

Lucas wasn't after lone Tyranitar. Solitary adults don't prioritize soil nutrient content—they're rock/dark now, not rock/ground.

They can and will find better food than dirt.

But breeding pairs are different. They instinctively seek regions with the richest subterranean nutrients and claim them.

Even if occupied, few wild Pokémon can match a Tyranitar—let alone two. The incumbent usually leaves resentfully, and the pair become lord and lady, proceeding with childrearing.

At high noon, Lucas and Dragonite finally found signs pointing to Tyranitar.

A bare, open rocky hill lacked vegetation.

The once clear blue was smeared with a thick, gray-yellow sand veil, like a torn sky washed with chaos.

The air reeked of dry grit; even at a distance, Lucas's nose stung with it.

Sand, driven by the gale, blurred into waves. Closer in, beyond the roar of wind, faint, chilling bestial bellows echoed within the sandstorm.

Even in the air, Lucas and Dragonite felt the ground tremble.

Tyranitar's standard ability is Sand Stream—that's why it's the Desert Tyrant. But a single Tyranitar wouldn't kick up this much fuss for nothing.

Lucas yanked out his desert gear and changed right on Dragonite's back.

When he'd strapped on the last—sand goggles—he patted Dragonite.

"Let's go in and see if it's what we think."

Full coverage in summer is uncomfortable, but better than diving into a world of biting grit and getting sand in your eyes, nose, and skin.

Dragonite dipped its head, held its breath, and plunged into the suspected Tyranitar territory.

…

Meanwhile, in a mountain city in northeastern Johto—

Lance was helping his clan prepare for tomorrow's Dragon Cland meeting when his comm chirped. Despite his flamboyant red hair, he was unfailingly courteous. He excused himself and stepped aside to take the call.

"This is…"

Reading a colleague's message, Lance's face went grave, his presence turning stern.

Regular poachers wouldn't faze him—but the source mattered: a Champion-tier trainer from Paldea, and the recent hero who saved the Orange Archipelago.

Officer Jenny in Goldenrod had reported a Team Rocket Grunt attack on him two days ago, putting Johto on edge—they couldn't slight such a guest.

And now this champion trainer had slipped into restricted Mt. Silver without a word—clearly not via the front gate, judging by the coordinates—using a poacher route.

Headache. That violated regulations, but the League couldn't punish him for it.

Worse, if he saw poachers running amok, how would Kanto/Johto HQ hold its head up before other Leagues?
And Lance's own sense of justice—as an investigator—couldn't abide poachers.

"Cousin, why the long face? You're only in your twenties!"

A blue-haired girl—Lance's opposite in hair color—popped up, hands clasped behind her back, peering at him.

Lance tucked the comm into his cloak and kept a straight face. "Urgent mission. I'll leave my duties to you. No problem?"

"Mm fine. Since you asked so nicely, I'll help" she teased—Clair, who'd idolized him since childhood.

"I didn't ask nicely. Just don't mess up. Tomorrow's guests are dragon specialists from all Leagues—very important for our clan."

Lance sighed. Ever since she'd grown up, she'd become harder to handle.

He flipped his cloak and strode out.

If Kanto/Johto's little fans saw that signature move, they'd scream and faint.

Outside, with wind rising, Lance mounted a Dragonite—different from Lucas's in many ways—and shot toward Mt. Silver near Blackthorn.

…

At the same time, the poachers' jeep fully entered Mt. Silver's depths.

Grateful for his full kit—and for not being flayed by razor-like sand—

Lucas and Dragonite crouched behind a massive boulder, enduring the ground's violent shaking, eyes locked on three blurry shapes amid the storm.

"It's them—no way. A Duraludon in Kanto!?"

In the swirling sands, two gray-green titans roared, their bodies clad in jagged armor. Every move drew a pained groan from the earth; thunderous booms never ceased. The area endured an unending quake.

Facing the two Tyranitar was, as Lucas exclaimed, a Duraludon.

Like Tyranitar, Duraludon was a bipedal kaiju, but its body was aluminum-alloyed metal—a heavy frame planted in the storm, unshaken by quakes or wind.

It looked like two Godzillas versus Mechagodzilla—but Lucas's shock was at Duraludon.

Duraludon is a Gen 8 Galar Pokémon—steel/dragon. What was it doing on Mt. Silver?

Duraludon let out a dragon's threat, jaw gaping. While grappling one Tyranitar, it spat silvery beams to clash with the other Tyranitar's pitch-black pulses.

For now, it wasn't at a disadvantage.

Watching the three behemoths clash amid the roar, Lucas frowned, recalling something.

In Galar, Duraludon and Tyranitar share habitats and both feed on rock strata, making them recognized nemeses.

They fight almost on sight—not necessarily to the death, but the winner drives the other off.

These two Tyranitar seemed young. Duraludon was splitting the field and tying them up. The Tyranitar held back—never using simultaneous quakes that would devastate Duraludon—and their moves were restrained, more like guarding than contesting territory.

Lucas's eyes widened. He felt close to the truth.

This wasn't a young Tyranitar pair invading Duraludon's turf—it was a wily Duraludon provoking them, hoping they'd hold back ground moves to avoid collateral damage so it could force a decision.

Tyranitar can shake the land with a step—their power is mountain-cracking. Even with Pokédex exaggeration, this was too little disturbance.

That was why outside the sandstorm Lucas and Dragonite couldn't be sure if it was Tyranitar or a Sandaconda.

From outside, they'd barely felt tremors—too mild for Tyranitar.

Which left one truth!

Underground below them lay the pair's offspring—hatched Larvitar eating soil. The parents were holding back ground moves to avoid harming it!

Fell into his lap—the half day of searching had paid off.

Lucas's eyes lit up. He summoned two expert diggers—the Alolan Sandslash couple.

Their steel claws were thick and sharp, capable of tearing through most mountains.

"Shah-shah."

They emerged and looked around nervously at the sandblasted world and the three battling titans. They weren't strong among wilds; their claim to fame was digging. They'd never seen such a scene.

Luckily, steel types shrug off sandstorm chip, so they weren't as miserable as Dragonite, who couldn't part the sand without drawing attention.

Seeing their unease, Lucas gave them a look: relax—I've got you.

Perhaps thanks to meeting the farm's powerful Pokémon, Lucas's assurance carried weight. They calmed.

He carefully took a burlap sack from his spatial pack and whispered, "Follow the strongest life signature underground. Don't hurt it. Just keep digging out the soil around it and fill this bag."

"If it wakes, tell me. I'll go in and soothe it."

In Blueberry Academy's Terarium he'd learned that their tunnels fit him just right—no stuck hips or head.

If the eat-sleep-eat Larvitar woke from their noise, he'd use his usual tricks to calm it—without alerting the parents above.

"Shah!"

The couple nodded and started clawing at a spot. In a few breaths, the new tunnel had nearly swallowed them.

Efficient indeed.

Lucas released Serperior next.

It emerged with an immediate scowl—it loathed sandstorm weather. Stay a bit and all elegance was gone.

It quietly wove a vine redoubt for itself.

Seeing Dragonite's pitiful look, Serperior sighed and made one for it too.

Sized to fit under their boulder, and with Serperior's expert energy control, the grass signature was negligible. The battling trio wouldn't notice.

Lucas eyed the shelters enviously but stopped Serperior from making one for him.

"I may have to go down. The biggest threat to me is if the Tyranitar lose their heads and go all-out with Earthquake. If you see them about to risk it anyway—show yourselves and pin them."

"Okay?"

"Serpe" "Drago"

Serperior was haughty—who did Lucas think it was? Subduing those brutes was trivial.
Whether by crafty Grass Knot or raw power, it was 100% confident.

Dragonite, too, brimmed with confidence. Those Tyranitar and Duraludon were strong, but limited—and it had improved lately.

Not letting them get a quake off? Easy.

With instructions given, Lucas peered into the deep tunnel—no sign of the Sandslash pair—and slipped in without hesitation.

Time to stock up on nutrient-dense soil!
The dozens of burlap sacks in his spatial pack were raring to go!