The skin on Erika's left hand burned. When she plunged that acid-soaked knife into her own hand during her oath to Mordred, Erika underestimated the amount of acid left over on the blade. If it wasn't for Fulton's medicine, what she would be experiencing right now wouldn't be searing pain, but nothingness, owing to the probable destruction of the nerves in her hand.

I mean, it's not like I'm complaining. At least I can still use my hand.

The unfortunate downside to keeping her nerves was that Erika could still feel pain - and after over a week of bliss granted by the concentrated blissey egg extract, the medicinal efficacy of the drug had finally run out. Although her left hand was horribly damaged, Erika didn't notice the pain previously since the blissey extract numbed her wound.

Fulton's medicine had done more than prevent total nerve destruction. It had drastically alleviated the pain from driving an acid-riddled knife into her hand, and she was only just realizing this now. Erika was suffering.

Erika anguishedly clenched her fist, doing her best to stifle the raw, nerve-ending pain that made her arm convulse each time she dared to unclench.

Mordred stood to the side with zero sympathy, and through the bond, Erika understood his intention. 'This is your oath. Bear it.'

"Fuck you," Erika said aloud for him to hear. "I didn't mean to put that much acid onto my left hand. It was only supposed to be a few drops, not a fucking puddle!"

Her starter merely shrugged, apathetic to her pain, the little twerp. Erika knew for a fact that he could feel it too, given their deep bond. Little bastard, she thought, as she smeared burn cream and bound up her hand with gauze.

The burning pain that spread through her hand could only be described as exquisite. It wasn't the pain of a cut, nor that of a burn, although Erika had been fortunate to only experience the latter once. No, it was like holding fire itself - the sensation came in waves, billowing across her skin like air currents on palm leaves, sending ripples of pain and shock down her arm every time she moved it even slightly.

Bennet's Burn Cream was a patented burn heal derivative that Erika's hotel room kept stocked, but even that wasn't enough to suppress the pain fully.

In fact, Erika's aura sense actually grew faint because of it; the sensation crowded out all the space her brain had, drowning out her ability to perceive aura. I guess this means I don't need that sour candy, Erika thought morosely. I'll be meditating without burn cream each night.

While she had initially wanted to express-order a shipment of blissey extract, Erika's irascible pride had won out in the end again. Would this really put her down? Her? Someone destined like her, succumbing to a minor acid burn? The mere thought disgusted Erika so much that she swung her fist into the wall in rage, holding in her scream as she did so.

No! She would master her pain, and use it to grow. The pain of her oath, of her bond - she would use it, and let it push her perception of aura to the next level. This was the only thing that Erika would accept. Nothing less.

Erika sunk deep into the meditative state, letting her mind wander amidst the expanse of multicoloured aura around her. It was a strange sensation for sure, feeling the aura and knowing that it was coloured, but being unable to see that colour due to having her eyes shut. Erika could sense the colour, could practically feel it - and then it vanished with the spike of pain that shot up her arm.

Her eyes flew open as she relaxed her arm, letting the pain fully engulf her.

Some blood dribbled down her lip, and Erika realized that she had bit down hard. Calm. Patience. Relax.

Slowly, Erika began to loosen up and sink down. Her breathing grew steady once more, and the pain numbed, and the bright world of aura began to reemerge within her perception.

When Erika next came to, the sun was already shining, spilling its golden rays through the gaps of her curtains and illuminating her pale face. Mordred was missing.

Erika felt both her bonds stretch out beyond the confines of the room, tugging her down a few floors to what surely was the Icefall. Morning training probably, she concluded. Mordred and Gwen are diligent as always.

She made sure to carefully move her left hand, ensuring that it didn't brush hard against the coarse gauze it was wrapped within and rang up the front desk for breakfast. She left the phone hanging by the cord and stepped into the transparent shower, disrobing and steaming herself with hot water until she felt alive once more. Her hand was suspended high above her head, angled away from the showerhead - because Erika was pretty certain that if hot water got onto her wound right now, she would be miserable for the rest of the day.

Although Erika had a match coming up soon, she took her time in the shower. For the final three rounds of the RSG, each match was scheduled to take place in the evening, and there would only be one match per day to maximise viewership. Since there was no rush, Erika carefully scrubbed herself down using the exfoliating soap provided until her skin was red and cleaned it off with warm water.

When she stepped out of the shower, the ceiling grew transparent and let solar light beam down onto her, supercharging her healing factor and numbing her left hand even more.

Erika was about to head down to meet with Mordred and Gwen when she noticed a sheaf of neatly bound papers stacked by her bed, so she picked it up to examine the cover page.

SWORD PSYCHIC - LEAGUE THREAT ANALYSIS
One of the three major psychic aura groups, sword psychics belong to an ancient school of sword practitioners who blend inherited psychic abilities with swordsmanship to create so-called 'flying swords' which can be remotely controlled via the mind. Before transcending the external and reaching the inherited, sword psychics cannot use their signature sword kinesis, which allows for free-form remote control of swords, and instead rely on their psychic pokemon to wield blades in their place. Out of all the psychic schools, sword psychics prioritize telekinesis the most, disregarding the need for other applications of psychic aura in favor of the 'way of the sword. [see more at Psychic Classification Vol. 3, p.155].

Unlike other psychic schools, sword psychics are not information hazards or security threats and are not societally dangerous. However, their frontal combat ability rivals dragon masters. Should an unlawful sword psychic need to be confronted, rangers are advised to call in specialized hit teams with anti-domain training for assassination strikes instead of engaging on their own.

The following pages showed images of various people enveloped in glowing light and controlling flying swords that revolved around their person. One image in particular astonished Erika, depicting a flying sword decapitating a man from over a few kilometres away.

Her eyes widened with every page that she flipped through. Did Fulton send me this?

Erika was confused for a second before realizing that her sixth-round opponent was likely one of the aforementioned sword psychics, and Erika's face grew grim.

"What the hell is a sword psychic doing in a newbie tournament?" Erika cursed loudly. "Does he have too much free time?"

The final page in the stack of papers was clearly a profile of some sort, with an attached image and description. Fulton had clearly meant for Erika to study her opponent before fighting with him, and her face grew even darker at the thought. That means Fulton isn't confident I'm going to win, or at least thinks that I need more preparation.

Only one pokemon was listed on the profile below the image of dark-haired boy in loose robes - an abra. There was a question mark where his second, or possibly first pokemon should have been, indicating that he hadn't revealed it yet.

A horrifying thought suddenly entered Erika's mind.

Erika remembered a scene from the slums where one of her rivals stole her food. He had somehow scrounged up a pokeball and caught an abra with it, and chased her away. Although his pokemon was still young, the telekinetic blasts it fired at Erika could easily batter her to the ground and send her flying. She had barely escaped and vowed revenge on him.

Heaven for the strong. Hell for the weak. The Underbelly of Celadon was not a nice place, and one had to be ruthless to survive - not only toward enemies, but also yourself. Because of that boy, Erika was forced to abandon months worth of food that she had painstakingly scavenged - clean food, the likes of which street rats like her shouldn't have been able to eat.

There was a common saying in the slums - an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. While most street rats lived by this basic principle of give and take, Erika preferred a different version. What was the point anyways, in returning enmity?

If someone stole from her, should she just steal back? Obviously not.

By stealing from that boy, it would incite him to take revenge on her. She was just creating future enmity and trouble for nothing. What then, was the correct solution here? Peace? As if.

Her solution was simple and direct. Kill him.

Erika herself knew that she couldn't touch him after he managed to bond an abra, but his pokemon was still young and weak, and most importantly - untrained. To repay her enmity with the boy, Erika went around spreading rumors about how he had several months worth of clean food - her own food, which she had amassed previously. Erika knew the hiding place exactly since she had been the one to stockpile her food there, so it didn't take long for her to whip up a crowd of street rats and incite them to go raid the stockpile.

The temptation of that much food drew in street rats like a moth to flame, and under the ambush of dozens of kids, the boy and his abra couldn't hold on and was eventually killed.

Erika's principles had always been clear. Whatever someone did to her, she would return hundredfold, regardless of whether it was enmity or kindness. Milly had already been marked down as one of her benefactors, and once Erika rose to prominence, she wouldn't forget to help Milly out. As for those who harmed her… she would pursue them to the ends of the earth.

During that chase telekinetic blasts the abra released weren't strong enough to severely injure her - only bruise, let alone kill. However, what if that abra had been controlling a sword? An image of a flying sword spearing through Erika's abdomen flashed through her mind, making her snarl. I need to revise our training for today.

Erika headed straight for the elevator to meet with Mordred and Gwen, and continued going through the profile as she descended.

Her opponent was named Kong Hou, born in Northeastern Kanto, Pewter. He was recruited as a child into a sword psychic school called the Jie School, and had just recently been sent out to gain experience in the world. Like Erika, he had yet to gain his first badge, but Fulton's report estimated that he was beyond one-badge strength, similar to Erika.

No other mention was made of his fighting style or abilities due to a lack of available data. Although he did fight in the preliminaries and advanced through five rounds, his abra only demonstrated basic telekinesis and didn't reveal any sword kinesis. Fulton was able to infer that he was a sword psychic based on his habits - Kong Hou always used his right hand to reach for his waist every match unconsciously, and he would stand in a stance clearly meant for drawing a weapon, despite not having one on hand. From there, he had sent people to investigate Kong Hou's background, and sent the results to Erika.

Fulton underlined a sentence beneath the question mark on his pokemon team saying, 'likely to have a variant psychic honedge as his starter.' Erika didn't question the validity of Fulton's information, even despite knowing that honedge were ghost pokemon. It wasn't until she got down to the training floor that she saw Kong Hou's aura type.

Aura Type: Sword Aura (Psychic/Steel)

What the hell is sword aura?

When she swung the doors to the training room open, Erika was unsurprised to see Mordred standing beneath the torrential downpour of the Icefall next to Gwen. He was exerting his will over a group of soaked leaves, forcing them to move through the falling water and fight against the downpour. Gwen was training her legs again, squating and leaping upwards repeatedly before whirling her head to train her neck.

Erika nodded approvingly, and was about to call them over when she spotted Milly sitting at one of the tables on the artificial beach beyond the basin of the Icefall.

"Milly? What are you doing here?" Erika asked in surprise. "I didn't know you got up this early!"

Milly's face brightened, and she took the chance to explain a bit more of her family history to Erika.

"It's a family thing. The Beldings observe ancient customs," Milly explained patiently. "We rise together with the sun everyday, and not a moment later. It's also the period of time at which-"

Milly hesitated, as if realizing she was about to blurt something out which she shouldn't do. "Actually, I don't think it's appropriate for you to know about the last part. If you were willing to join my family as a vassal then I could tell you… but you're probably not willing right?"

"Definitely not," Erika agreed. "I have big plans."

Her friend just shrugged in a 'oh well' manner. "I thought as much. Having you as a friend is good too. Anyways, your pokemon are doing great! Even my own pokemon aren't as diligent. I usually have to coax them into morning training."

"They're pretty good yeah," Erika replied absently mindedly, still thinking about her sixth opponent. Inspiration struck her after saying that, as she realized that she was standing before an extremely knowledgeable and well learned heiress. "Say, Milly, have you heard of sword psychics before? I've got it on good authority that I have to fight one next round."

"Sword psychic?" Milly blurted out. "Those guys are nuts. Who told you that you'd have to fight one?"

Erika hesitated a little, before deciding to be honest with Milly.

"My uncle saw one of the competitors in my bracket reach for his waist at the start of every match," Erika told her. "He also took weird stances instinctively, before correcting himself. My uncle guessed that he was probably used to wielding a sword, and coupled with the fact that he has an abra, it wasn't hard to draw a conclusion."

Milly didn't respond immediately, and she had a strange look on her face. "Have you ever heard of variant aura, Erika?"

"No, should I have?"

"Definitely not," Milly responded. "I'd be much more surprised if you did know. Only real Initiates who have bonded at least one pokemon are allowed to learn about concepts like variant aura, and even then, most of the time no one is there to tell them about it. Knowing about it is basically useless, because the vast majority of people don't have variant aura."

Erika looked at Milly carefully before speaking. "I'm guessing that my opponent this round is one of those rare trainers with variant aura then?"
"Not just your opponent," Milly corrected quickly. "All sword psychics have what is called a variant aura - sword aura, to be precise. It's formed from a precise ratio of steel and psychic aura, and requires multiple supplementary materials to induce the fusion. The precise ratio and materials needed are a tightly guarded secret kept by each Sword School, and even I can't tell you anything about it."

"So that's what it is!" Erika burst out. "Wait a second, wouldn't having two types of aura make them generalists? Why would you give up the advantages of being a specialist just to have two weaker types?"

Milly simply pointed at Erika without explanation. Before she could even ask a question, Erika felt herself becoming violently ill, and her skin started burning before the sensation subsided. She nearly leapt backwards out of instinct from the feeling. "What the hell was that?"

"It's my family's signature Nightshade aura," Milly casually told explained. "We blend grass and poison together, and catalyze it to create a unique variant aura."

"Also, watch your language," Milly admonished, although half-heartedly.

Erika was dumbfounded. "You've got a variant aura too?"

And as if trying to back up her own statement, she activated her second sight to peer through Milly, and found nothing but a dense gathering of green grass aura. "How are you not a grass specialist? I can't see anything except grass aura on you at all!!"

"Even if you look harder, you won't see anything different," Milly said to dissuade her. "Nightshade aura is impossible to tell apart from regular grass aura. If you actually could see through it, I'd have to silence you," Milly joked.

Mordred's head poked out of the Icefall at the threat, and he and Gwen wandered over to sit next to Erika.

Milly smirked a little. "Stop worrying, I was kidding."

"Wait, you haven't answered my question yet," Erika said hurriedly, her mind burning with curiosity. "Are you a specialist then? Are the sword psychics specialists?"

"Let's start from the beginning," Milly told her, pulling out a deck chair and beckoning Erika to sit. Erika forced herself down despite her impatience and waited for Milly to get into lecture mode.

"Do you know what the fundamental difference between a generalist and a specialist is?" Milly asked directly.

"It's purity," Erika declared with confidence. "A mixed aura with multiple types makes you a generalist, while a pure aura devoid of all but one type makes you a specialist."

Milly shook her head with a smile.

"You're wrong," she said, shocking Erika. "Although, you're not entirely off the mark. You're thinking about it the wrong way. Generalists don't have mixed aura - they have a heterogenous aura. Specialists don't have pure aura - they have a homogenous aura. Would you like me to explain why I'm still considered a specialist, or can you guess that yourself?"

Erika's mind spun. "You mean…"

"Yes!" Milly was grinning eagerly now, enjoying the look of shock on Erika's face. "If you can blend two types of aura in a precise ratio such that they become completely homogenous, you can become a specialist of multiple types! Not only will it not interfere with advancing into the External, but you'll also be able to bond multiple types of pokemon like a generalist, and receive the boost from being a specialist! That's precisely what a variant aura is!"

"Sword aura must be formed from psychic and steel!" Erika realized suddenly. Shit. I need to watch out for both steel and psychic type pokemon now. My sixth round opponent can bond with pokemon from both types!

"You told me already that your nightshade aura is formed by melding poison and grass… are there other variant auras out there?"

"Certaintly, although you should slow down a bit. I haven't even finished talking," Milly admonished her again.

"How much has your ranger uncle taught you about the Inherited?" Milly quizzed. "He's an ace, which means he's definitely transcended the External and reached the Inherited. Give me your baseline. How much do you know?"
"Not much," Erika admitted straitforwardly. "I know the basics. I know that upon reaching the Inherited, trainers will be able to attain supernatural powers related to their speciality type. Are you telling me that variant aura trainers get multiple powers?"

"Nope," Milly corrected again. " All specialists will only ever have one main power which defines their type - and this is an unvioable rule, even for a variant specialist like me. However, what a variant specialist can do is obtain auxiliary powers from different elemental types."

Even Mordred and Gwen were listening intently now, having been drawn in by Milly's fantastical explanation.

"What's the difference between a main and auxiliary power?" Erika asked directly.

"The main power for every type is the same," Mily answered after thinking for a moment. "For example, all flying specialists who reach Inherited will gain the ability to fly, which is actually how their type got their name. Otherwise, they would have been called Wind specialists, or something else."

Milly pulled out her phone and searched up a video to show Erika. She saw a man levitate off the ground and soar through the air, performing loops and twirls and backflips while guided by an invisible power that kept his body aloft. "This is the flying type main power - flight."

Erika wasn't too shocked by the video, because flight was one of the more well known abilities, since it featured in many comics and manga books that she used to read. "What's an auxiliary power then?"

"Anything that isn't a main power is lumped into the auxiliary power category," Milly explained. "That goes for everything from bodily adaptions to your type, to type-specfiic powers that can be practiced and learned. If we continue with the flying type example, some auxiliary powers might include hollow bones and air sacs, an adaptation for more efficient flight, and the ability to control the wind."

"Our ability to absorb light from the sun might be an auxiliary power then," Erika realized. "It's a bodily adaptation resulting from our grass specialization right?"

"Spot on," Milly remarked. "Even before reaching the Inherited, trainers will begin to mutate and develop unique bodily adaptations beneficial to their specialization. However, this is already the limit - to gain a main power before inherited is impossible, nor can the more advanced auxiliary powers be practiced. The only changes you'll see happening are bodily ones during the Initiate and External stages."

After punching in a few keys, Milly passed the phone to Erika again. It was a wiki page with a table listing of auxiliary powers. "Each elemental type has a wide range of known or possible auxiliary powers that you can acquire or learn. Specialists from other types will not be able to acquire the same auxiliary powers - you won't ever see anyone other than a grass specialist photosynthesizing or healing in sunlight like us."

"So when you said that variant specialists can obtain auxiliary powers from different types," Erika said slowly, "that means you can get poison type auxillary powers and grass type auxiliary powers?"

"That's correct," Milly agreed. "However, our main power is unique. Us variant specialists will not get a main power from either of our types. Remember what I said about specialists being homogeneous. I have a single aura type - nightshade. Therefore, I will also inherit only one main power, just like a regular specialist. The only difference is that the power I inherit is unique to nightshade aura users. You won't ever find a grass or poison ace trainer with a main ability like my family's.

"Could I become a variant specialist?" Erika asked curiously. "There seem to far more advantages to doing so than becoming a regular grass specialist. You get increased type coverage and a unique main power, and a wider pool of auxiliary powers. What do I have to do to turn my aura into a variant one?"

"I don't think you could ever develop a variant aura," Milly told her honestly. "Your grass aura is so ridiculously vast that it would drown out any other elemental type. Quantity wise, even if you forced yourself to develop other types of aura, the ratio of grass to other types would huge, and there are no variant aura formulas which call for 99.99% grass aura and a miniscule amount of other aura types."

That's certainly a shame, although it doesn't change my plans. I'm still confident I can charge to the top with my grass specialization.

"If I did think you could form variant aura, I would have offered you a temporary vassalship," Milly added. "My family's nightshade aura is actually very compatible with you."

"Since, we've covered specialists and variant specialists, what do you think about generalists?" Milly continued. "What sort of main power do they get?"

Erika thought about it. "Multiple weaker powers?"

"That's generally the case," Milly agreed. "We consider generalists to be crippled Inheritors. They inherit weak, fractional main powers, compared to the mighty power that specialists can all attain. If we use our earlier example, a generalist who has bonded flying types might only be able to hover a few meters off the ground, or glide slowly, compared to a specialist who can fly at extreme speed."

"That can't be," Erika said suddenly. "What's the point of being a generalist then? Reaching the External as a generalist is harder, you inherit weak abilities after advancing to Inherited and becoming an ace trainer… even your pokemon grow more slowly as a generalist due to your mixed - I mean heterogenous aura. Why would you ever become a generalist?"

Wait - no, there is a reason!

"It's combat strength, isn't it?" Erika's eyes blazed. "Generalists can always fight with a type advantage due to their diverse team and versatility of movesets. They're weak in the early stages because of their slow growth speed, but later on they can dominate in battles. Wait a second…"

Milly patiently waited, enjoying Erika's rambling thought process.

"There has to be a downside as well," Erika declared suddenly. "Otherwise, everyone with money and resources would commit to being a generalist instead of a specialist. Who doesn't want to be better at battling? Correct me if I'm wrong Milly, but your personal strength declines as a generalist right? That has to be the case, since you inherit weaker powers!"

This time, Milly gave Erika a standing applause and clapped her hands. "I'm impressed. That was a good chain of logic. You're right Erika, your personal strength does decline as a generalist, but in return, you get an overwhelmingly powerful advantage in competitive settings if you build your team properly. However, what if you aren't in a competitive setting?"

Milly released a bulbasaur onto the ground next to Erika, and made a mock-vicious face. "What if I order Sauron to attack you right now?"

"Mordred would protect me," Erika said confidently. "I have pokemon for a reason."

"Sure," Milly shrugged. "What if I had a gun though? What if Mordred and Gwen were busy? Or what if they were occupied with fighting other pokemon? If you were a generalist with weak inherited powers in a real world, life or death situation… you'd die!"

"So that's why!" Erika mumbled feverishly. "It makes sense now! That's why you don't see many generalist aces - it's because they all die while exploring the wilds or fighting against other aces!"

"They don't have many personal life preservations means," Milly agreed. "Outside of the protective shield of their aura, they can only order their pokemon to assist them. If you're smart, you can definitely make it as a generalist ace, but if you're ever separated from your pokemon, you're basically finished."

"What I just explained to you was one of the many arguments between the Generalist and Specialist Schools of Thought, by the way. There are a lot of purists in the Generalist School of Thougth who argue that pokemon training is all about the bond - why pursue personal strength when the true meaning of training is about teamwork? Obviously, the Specialists School of Thought always shouts back that generalists can't bond with their pokemon to the same degree as a specialist due to their heterogenous aura, and won't be able to grow their pokemon to the same degree, and so on, so forth. The arguments are endless."

We're wildly off track, Erika thought suddenly. Still, that was extremely useful knowledge.

Erika turned to Milly and cupped her hands, giving her a slight nod of genuine respect. "Thank you once again Milly. I appreciate the lesson, but I have to go prepare for my evening match. Can you send me whatever information you have on the Jie School's sword psychics?"

"Of course," Milly said warmly. "Don't forget to come celebrate with me after you win!"

"I definitely will," Erika vowed seriously. "I owe you one. Mordred, Gwen! Let's go!"

Her two pokemon snapped to attention and formed ranks behind her, standing ramrod straight as they filed out of the Icefall chamber and toward one of the empty training rooms.

"This is all theoretical for now," Milly reminded Erika as she left. "Don't worry about the nuances of main and auxiliary powers. The only thing relevant to your fight is your opponent's ability to bond steel and psychic pokemon, since the both of you are still Initiate trainers."

—————————————————————————————————————————

Fulton's face was grim.

A ranger had been murdered - and gruesomely.

Far out from the inner city and near the wilds bordering the Outskirts, Fulton found himself staring down at a badly mutilated corpse with little to no remaining identifying features. The only thing that served to elucidate the dead body's status as a ranger was his capture stylus, which lay half shattered on the ground, its circuitry and battery exposed for him to see.

Now, if the man had died in a clash with one of the local gangs, Fulton might not have been so concerned. After all, quite a few local gangs harboured ace trainers as bosses, including his own organization, the Claws. However, most of those gang leaders tended to be newly rated one-star aces, and the stars branded on the dead ranger's capture stylus indicated that he had already earned his second ace star.

It can't be Winfred, Fulton thought, giving the crime scene a deep look. His fighting style is brutish and straightforward. He utilizes blunt force strikes and overwhelming force to destroy people. The wounds on this body indicate that it was lacerated apart.

Anyways, Fulton was sure that even if Winfred had been the one to commit the murder, he wouldn't have been careless enough to leave the corpse behind. While Fulton's boss was a violent and barbaric man, he was also intelligent and ruthless. Such a man would never leave incriminating evidence like this behind, even if his body was deteriorating from the double hit of age and a five-star ghost's curse.

The old coot probably can hold on for another decade at most, Fulton thought viciously. Fighting-type aces like him should normally be able to maintain their peak physical form until they die, but he's been cursed so badly that he can't even hold on until 70 years.

The only question now was: who killed the ranger?

Given the rather limited number of rangers within Celadon, seeing one of their number perish was a terrible sign. Even though Fulton's loyalties didn't lie with the League, he was still technically part of the government and was thus obligated to follow up on the murder. Quickly pulling out his own Pokedex, Fulton jammed in a few keys and sent a notice to HQ to pick up the body.

Fulton waited a few seconds for a response, but none of the dispatchers said anything.

Weird. HQ Dispatch is usually pretty fast. What's going on?

He was about to try sending another notice when his pokedex released a burst of static, startling Fulton and nearly making him drop the device. Fulton gave his pokedex a good dose of old-fashioned percussive maintenance by smacking the shit out of it a few times, but it failed to resolve the underlying issue. The static persisted, and with a sigh, Fulton turned it off and tucked it back into his jacket.

Wait. Where was the body?

Oh fuck.

Fulton looked around himself in confusion, before realizing where the body was. It was crawling up one of the walls of the dilapidated houses nearby, wriggling and violently convulsing as it did so. Its ashen skin had become waxy and rubbery, and when Fulton made eye contact with the corpse, it began shrieking madly, and then leapt from its perch straight towards him.

Sadly, it never made it close. A dark claw scythed out from the void and cleanly bisected the corpse in twain, sending the two halves flying past Fulton. Bathory had done her job well.

Through his second sight, Fulton could no longer see any residual traces of aura on the corpse. Whatever had given animation to his dead comrade's body was now gone, and with it, any possible clues he could have gleaned. Rest in peace, friend, Fulton sighed. Whatever you went through doesn't sound like a fun way to die.

Fulton had a burst of paranoia and decided to double-tap the corpse for safety, extending his foot and giving the right half of the body a good whack to see if it would keep moving. Nothing happened. Maybe check again just for fun?

This time, when Fulton's foot made contact with the left half, it shimmered, and his foot passed through it like a mirage. He felt minimal resistance, and then his mind was suddenly overwhelmed with hundreds of screams and wails, and dark tentacles and mirrors leading to-

FUCK.

Fulton snapped out of whatever had trapped him the moment Carzi telekinetically slapped him. Not this shit again.

Fulton was beginning to have an idea of just what had killed the ranger in front of him, and he didn't like the idea one bit.

He briefly contemplated taking an impromptu leave of absence from his job to go vacation in Alola, before being interrupted by the sudden reactivation of his pokedex.

After a brief bout of static, the radio on his ranger-issue pokedex crackled to life. "This is a level 3 red alert. All nearby rangers, please rendezvous at the 50 meter safe zone of the Whispering Woods. Agents from Lavender have been dispatched. I repeat. This is a level 3 red alert…"

"I knew I should have fucking stayed home," Fulton groaned, uncaring of anyone who might have been listening in. "Why did I pick up that distress call?"

He had been showering and trying to shave, when his phone started blaring and screeching out the familiar tune of the ranger distress call, and Fulton was forced to scramble out with his mustache half shaved, and his body still covered in shower gel.

Fulton didn't like using his powers to clean up, but in dire times like these, he could freeze the water droplets on his body and shatter them off. The mustache was a different problem, but he could still get by. His solution involved flash freezing the hairs on his mouth down to the follicles, and breaking them while they were brittle. It hurt - a lot, but such was the price of quick fix solutions.

He had shown up half-showered expecting to see an injured ranger he could joke around with, and instead came across a not-so-dead body. To make matters worse, The league had put out a Level 3 red alert, and all nearby rangers had been called in.

Fulton didn't expect many to respond to the call, since Celadon was a political minefield. Celadon's two great factions, the Progressives and Conservatives, both hated the government - it was practically the only thing they could agree on - and they had suppressed the league's local authority into the ground. For legendary's sake, the fucking police chief of Celadon was a two-star ace! Even Fulton was ranked higher!

After marking down the corpse's location for clean up, Fulton sped further out of the city and towards the edge of the Whispering Woods, only stopping right before crossing the 50m sign denoting the forest boundary.

Fulton could already hear strange noises. Whenever he turned to face them, the sounds would abruptly stop, and the moment he turned away, he would begin to hear rustling and creaking again. Awesome. I love forbidden zones.

Doing his best to ignore the eerie scratching noises that always showed up behind him, Fulton released his jynx. Carzi wrapped Fulton tightly in her telekinetic grip, and the two of them levitated towards the meeting point designated on his pokedex.

Fulton was not the highest-ranking ranger to show up. That honor belonged to an intimidating man named Brutus, a powerful five-star ace and ghost specialist which his pokedex flagged down as the designated operation leader.

Brutus wore a simple black cloak adorned with purple feathers, and carried a crystal ball with his right hand. A fully sealed mask covered his eyes, and when Fulton tried to peek at him through second sight, he found that the man was completely devoid of aura. At least, he appeared so.

The mask probably blocks aura emission, Fulton analyzed. It's creepy as fuck though.

He had heard of Brutus before. Brutus was a famous ace who served under General Agatha during her glory days, back when her Ghost Legion was at the height of its power. Fulton, who wasn't even 30 years old yet, could scarcely imagine what it would be like to hang around a legendary trainer like General Agatha who had lived for over two centuries.

Although reaching the Inherited would bolster the lifespan of a trainer, there were still differences between the different elemental types. Trainers specializing in one of the four great types - dragon, grass, ghost, fairy - could easily live exaggeratedly long lives, while those who specialized in elemental types like bug and poison would actually see their lifespans shorten and reduce.

General Agatha was a ghost specialist that Fulton knew for a fact had surpassed the Inherited, and reached an unbelievable realm that was rumored to let her live up to three entire centuries. Seven-star aces like her had already broken the scale - the league gave up on trying to classify people like her a long time ago. If you could get the league to rate you as a seven-star, it meant that you were officially on the list of "people not to fuck around with."

Trainers like her couldn't even be called Aces anymore - they were respectfully termed "Sovereigns", as a way to pay homage to their exalted status. The only reason people still called Agatha by her General title was because she preferred it that way.

Brutus was just one of the many subordinates she had accrued over her multi-century career as a Kantonian General. For him to show up to this meeting did not bode well.

I'd say it bodes fucking horribly, Fulton thought. For a direct subordinate of General Agatha to come in person only means one thing - we're dealing with the Cult of Distortion.

The only thing undying old freaks like General Agatha hated more than other undying old freaks, was even more undying and even more ancient freaks. Namely, the Cult of Distortion's High Priest, a fellow Sovereign. Although they were based in Sinnoh, the Cult of Distortion operated like a global terrorist cell, and had sub-cults everywhere across the Seven Regions.

And as if reading his mind, Brutus gathered all the rangers present to make an announcement.

"We're dealing with the Oblivion Rift this time!" Brutus shouted loudly, as if they weren't literally all standing next to each other. Fulton winced at the volume of his voice. "I would like to ask all rangers who have fought cultists before to stand up, and form ranks behind Eliza!"

He pointed to a sickly-looking woman to his right. "She is one of my trusted subordinates and a skilled spirit medium! To all who go with Eliza, you will directly assault the cultists, and shut down the Rift they have opened! Eliza can channel five-star ghosts, and she will be responsible for taking care of the cult's strongest pokemon!"

"Now!" Brutus turned, "For the inexperienced! Form ranks behind Samuel, the man in the blue polo on the left. You will maintain the perimeter at the edge of the Whispering Woods, and contain any escaping cultists! Samuel is a barrier psychic who can seal a four-star pokemon! Listen to his instructions, and do NOT wander off on your own!"

"Use extreme prejudice! Do not show mercy, for they will not give you any!"

Fulton took a deep breath and made his choice, stepping towards Eliza and joining the group going to directly attack the cultists maintaining the Rift.

He had always been a risk taker at heart. Even in his youth, he had made the insane choice to venture deep into Mt. Aachen for his starter, and he'd recently decided to gamble on Erika's future growth, pouring years worth of resources he'd accumulated into her to accelerate her growth and potential.

Some of the rangers Fulton knew balked at the prospect of fighting the cultists. He even recognised a few who had battled cult members before, and decided to join Samuel anyways to avoid doing so again. Fulton was different though. He didn't see the attack on the cultists as a great danger, but rather oppurtunity.

With Eliza's protection, I won't need to worry as much about the corrupting influence of the Rift. I should take this chance to kill as many cultists as I can to earn merit, and increase my influence in the Ranger Corps.

Obviously, if push came to shove, Fulton was also prepared to say "fuck everyone" and bring down a massive snowstorm. He would then have his cryogonal cast multiple layers of aurora veils and light screens before running away. That's a last resort though. My reputation would go up in smoke if I actually did that.

He was prepared to stick it out through thick and thin with his ranger comrades… to a certain extent at least. As to what extent that was, even Fulton didn't know for sure.

After each assigned group split up and set off, Fulton found himself carefully trekking through one of the most inhospitable areas in the known world along with a group of complete strangers.

Eliza led the group at the front, shrouding the rangers in a violet light which seemed to ward off the strange paranormal phenomena of the Whispering Woods. Fulton didn't quite know how she did it, but he suspected it was related to the small wooden branch which she tightly clutched in her hand.

He knew she could channel five-star ghosts, but that didn't mean that she was limited to her own pokemon. I heard it's possible for genius spirit mediums to take on the powers of even stronger ghosts as well.

Fulton toyed with his pokeballs idly, thinking about what he ought to use to fight the cultists with. Nanook would probably be the main fighting force, due to his great size and ability to wield elemental ice in large scale attacks. He had Bathory for ambushes and assassination strikes, so the only thing missing in his lineup would be a battlefield controller.

It was time for Janus to make an appearance.

Fulton's cryogonal released itself from its ball and hovered silently next to him like a sentinel, giving him some much-needed reassurance that he wouldn't die horribly on this league mandated suppression mission.

Bathory was already out of her pokeball - just hidden within his shadow. She was one of Fulton's proudest achievements, because he had managed to train a dark type to the point that it could master a ghost technique, which was elementally opposite to her own type. Anyone or thing who tried to sneak up on Fulton would be in for a big - and probably very bloody surprise.

"What's your name kid?" A voice from behind asked suddenly.

Fulton jerked instinctively at the noise. Given their proximity to the Whispering Woods, it wasn't such an outrageous reaction to have.

"I'm almost thirty," he snapped back irritably. "I'm not a kid."

The man in front of him burst out laughing. "Shut the hell up, kid. I'm breaking a hundred this year."

Hearing that, Fulton did indeed shut up. It's another old freak. I mean, I could live that long as well, but I'd be old and feeble. He specialises in one of the four long-lived types, doesn't he?

"If you didn't know, my name is Gavin. I'm a fairy specialist," the man replied, his eyes glittering, as if reading Fulton's mind. He felt the irony keenly, given that he did it to Erika all the time. "Would you like to make a deal?"

"I'm not selling you my fucking soul," Fulton told him directly. "Yes, I know it's a stereotype. No, I don't want to keep talking."

Gavin's violet eyes flickered, and Fulton felt his hairs rise involuntarily. He nearly stepped back, before the sensation of danger faded. Wait a second. There aren't any fairy specialists on the payroll in this area of Kanto. Shit.

"I don't recall any fairy specialists among the local rangers," Fulton said heavily, raising a pokeball up to the man. "Who are you?"

Nanook tensed up in the ball.

"You're right!" Gavin laughed. "I'm not a ranger!"

He seemed far creepier than before, and the sensation of danger which Fulton felt previously returned tenfold. He immediately released Nanook from his pokeball, and the giant 16ft polar bear emerged, rumbling the ground and startling all the rangers in their group further ahead.

"Don't attack me!" Gavin screamed hastily. "I'm taking the piss. It's a joke! Calm down, mate."

Fulton breathed heavily, his face nearly red from the tension. "Are you serious? What the fuck?

"Yeah, I'm a foreign consultant hired by the Ghost Legion to deal with stuff like this," Gavin admitted. "Sorry about the prank."

Fulton was about to give Gavin a piece of his mind when he saw his immediate superior storming over, and he immediately retracted whatever he was going to say.

"Please don't joke around." Eliza had made her way over to the both of them. "This is a serious cult suppression mission, and we must hold ourselves to a standard," she said softly. "Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am!" They both responded. "We understand ma'am!"

Fulton immediately moved as far away from Gavin as possible, doing his best to assimilate into the group of rangers in front. I'm going to pop a blood vessel if I spend any more time around this loon.

It didn't take long for them to get close to the Rift.

Even from a distance, it was possible to see the jagged tear in reality suspended high in the air, rippling and discharging higher dimensional energies into the surrounding area. One hundred or so cultists were gathered around the Rift chanting in an unintelligible language, and with every word they spoke, the air seemed to vibrate and hum, causing the grass and trees nearby to scream and wither.

All the local pumpkaboo and phantump had already uprooted themselves to run away. The ones which didn't escape in time seemed to have melted into the forest floor, their bodies becoming nourishment for the evil ritual being conducted.

Eliza raised a hand to stop the group from advancing, signing for them to get ready to attack. Under the protection of the violet light emitted by Eliza, the rangers moved undetected into position, and steathily began to prepare to attack.

Once all the rangers had gotten into position, Eliza's shadow began trembling. Fulton began backing away out of instinct as he watched the shadow come alive, writhing and contorting until a giant Cheshire grin appeared. The mouth on the shadow continued to grow, enlarging itself continuously and making it so that you could see the serrated teeth lining the mouth.

Then, the shadow leapt out, becoming three-dimensional and swallowing Eliza whole.

Whatever was left of Eliza began laughing madly. Her once soft-spoken voice gradually grew more deranged and unhinged as what was clearly a ghost fused into her form, and eyes of all shapes and sizes started opening on her body, dripping bloody tears that scalded the grass below with a hiss. These eyes glowed with an evil purple light, and all of them swivelled in unison to glare at the cultists.

"Attack!" Eliza shrieked. "Kill them all!"

Everything broke into pandemonium as the rangers charged. Nearly instantly, the chanting of the cultists ceased as Bathory appeared, slitting the throats of several of the ritual hosts and disrupting the expansion of the Rift. Dozens more ranger pokemon also made their appearance on the battlefield, striking out to instantly ambush the cultists.

Nanook emerged with a savage howl, depressing the ground of the forest beneath him along with the emergence of dozens of other gigantic pokemon. Fulton could see an enormous golem, a nidoking, a bisharp, and many other species of pokemon he didn't bother to identify in the heat of the battle.

A few more unaware cultists had their heads decapitated instantly or their throats slit by Bathory, their ghost auras falling victim to her suppressive dark. Nanook charged through enemy lines accompanied by the other frontline pokemon released by the rangers, soaking up the brunt of the enemy retaliation and giving the rangers room to unleash devastating ranged attacks.

The entire forest became a warzone in an instant, lit up with colorful elemental attacks and the occasional spray of gushing arterial blood from hidden pokemon waiting in ambush. Many cultists had their limbs blown off by the descending artillery strikes, but many more managed to avoid the attacks by phasing through and shifting into an immaterial state.

The head cultist threw out three pokeballs instantly in response, and three pokemon emerged - a tyranitar, a liepard, and a bisharp. The first was probably his starter, Fulton surmised.

The great beast stood at over 45ft tall and resembled a small hill. Each step it took made the ground shake, and when it turned, the spikes on its back rippled like a sea of blades. Before it could even do anything, however, Eliza charged at them, her many eyes bulging with barely contained savagery and murderous intent.

"Don't let any of them escape," Eliza shouted, struggling to speak. She had begun drooling at the sight of the enemy pokemon. Each word seemed to be a struggle in itself, and Eliza had to slap herself to barely stay conscious. "I'll deal with the tyranitar…"

Five malicious gengar trailed Eliza, having released themselves from their pokeballs, and began merging into Eliza, increasing the number of eyes on her body manifold, and thus the power she could exert. However, it seemed that the fusion was not without side effects. Eliza seemed to lose even more of her rationality, degrading into a mad beast who only knew how to attack and savage the creature in front of her.

"Let your flesh become my nourishment!" She roared madly once more, her rationality taking a backseat. "Submit to me!"

Rings of concentric purple light coalesced into grinning skulls, and they shot out towards the tyranitar, sinking into its flesh and cursing it. Eliza raised a single palm wreathed in purple mist and slammed it down, sending the tyranitar flying away like a ragdoll. The frontal spikes making up its sternum armor shattered with a loud crack, falling to the ground and impaling a few unlucky cultists. Fulton could only watch in astonishment. Has she approached six stars? And with her own body no less!

Fulton looked on with horrified fascination. His pokedex had evaluated the tyranitar as being at nearly six-stars in terms of strength - and Eliza was beating the shit out of it. Fusing six five-star ghosts into her body made her lose her mind, but it elevated her effective strength to a whole new level.

Even as he admired Eliza's handiwork in suppressing the cult admin's starter, Fulton wasn't idle. He had three pokemon active on the battlefield doing their best to kill off the pokemon of the enemy cultists, and he himself had personally engaged the enemy cultist trainers while wielding a longsword of ice which emitted chilling air.

With every swipe of the sword, Fulton claimed a head - and if he didn't, the chill from his blade would invade the bodies of his enemies, necrotizing their flesh with extreme cold.

This was how battlefield combat normally worked. Your pokemon would go occupy the enemy pokemon, and the trainer would engage with the enemy trainers. Only freaks like Eliza could fight a pokemon as a human.

Fulton moved gracefully through the battlefield, literally skating from place to place by instantly deposing water moisture into the ice beneath his feet. His skating left trails of ice behind him, tripping up unaware cultists every time they tried to approach, and Fulton would lunge in to stab them with his longsword.

Twice, he was forced to condense icy armor, transmuting his aura into ice to block what would have been fatal blows, and he even had to summon Carzi out to intervene a few times.

"I need backup!" Fulton heard someone shout from across the trees. "On my six, there's an aggron!"

Fulton locked eyes with him and saw the burgeoning water aura surrounding the man's frame, and they both acted in unison.

"Rain dance!"

"Hail!"

A storm began to brew in the sky, causing nearby clouds to swirl and gather faraway deposits of water moisture above their heads. Fulton could see the water aura in the aura thicken and multiply even as the aggron charged at the man who asked for help, and he clenched his fist to invoke his ice.

"Ice Meteor!"

As an ice specialist, the hardest part about fighting in an area without his element naturally present was obtaining the water necessary to freeze into ice. Since Fulton was a pure ice specialist, he couldn't control water - the most he could do was freeze it. When it came to utilizing water moisture, he was forced to directly depose it into solid ice, and couldn't gather it in the liquid state.

However, that man had done exactly that just now for Fulton. All the water nearby had been agglomerated into one huge mass - which had just been flash-frozen into a meteorite of ice.

The ice meteor hurtled down and smashed into the aggron, borrowing the force of gravity to blast the aggron's skull apart and send its corpse flying. Multiple trees were smashed in the descent of the ice meteor, and the aggron's corpse was rendered into frozen chunks. Two-star, maybe three-star, Fulton judged. Even using this attack and borrowing gravity, I still wouldn't have to strength to wound a four-star without my pokemon.

"I'm Hill!" The man shouted at Fulton from afar as he engaged another cultist. "Thanks for the help!"

"No worries!" Fulton shouted back. "Buy me a drink if you survive!"

This was unfortunately where Fulton's good times came to an end. Fulton was just about to return to killing the weak External cultists when the cult admin personally arrived, his face a mask of fury and carrying the bodies of several ace rangers. Oh fuck.

"Aurora veil!" Fulton shouted, projecting his voice over to his three pokemon on the field. The strain of maintaining three active combatants made his voice tremble a little, but Fulton powered through. "Lower the temperature as far as it can go together!"

Waves of powerful ice-type energy were released, covering the expanse of sky above the forest in a myriad of boreal color. The forms of all active rangers and their pokemon on the field began to shimmer and become illusionary, causing the attacks of the cultists to miss or hit their own number.

The cult admin raised a hand draped in a purplish-black aura and plunged it at Fulton, making Fulton's eyes widen with shock. Demonic aura!

Gritting his teeth, Fulton ignored the strain and summoned Manfred to block the attack, leveraging his powerful body and thick fat reserves to absorb the lethal blow in Fulton's place.

However, Manfred groaned from the strike, shocking Fulton. How can a human possibly wound a pokemon like Manfred with just a punch? He's got to be close to the peak of Inherited! If I get hit even once, I'm dead!

Marshalling the deep icy aura within himself, Fulton directly deposed water moisture in the air into ice, sending a flurry of ice shards and snow towards the cult admin to distract him. He kicked up as much snow as possible and then exploded, his body scattering and reforming into dozens of copies of himself.

This was one of Fulton's greatest life preservation skills - ice clones! It demanded an insane ability to parallel process since the clones Fulton formed were not truly autonomous - they were just constructs of ice, and he had to manually control them all to mimic his body to deceive enemies.

"Go kill off the weaker cultists!" Fulton screamed at Manfred. "I'll bring the admin away!"

The admin attempted to block Manfred's charge, but he was bowled over this time due to the momentum Manfred accumulated, and Fulton directly turned to flee. Eliza still occupying the admin's pokemon on the field, but it didn't mean that he couldn't bring out more. Furious, the admin threw out an ultra ball and a massive Hydreigon roared into existence.

Oh fuck.

The dragon inhaled and built up a charge, then blasted out a terrifying black beam which direclty vaporized Fulton's body.

Or so he thought anyways. That was just one of his decoy clones. The aurora veil he had set up earlier masked the minute differences between his real body and clones, allowing Fulton to pull a fast one on the cult admin. Even though his clones contained ice-aura, Fulton wasn't sure if that would be enough to escape the perception of the cult admin, which was why he had cast the aurora veil.

The real Fulton was much further away. He had given one of his ice clones Manfred's pokeball, and used it to draw away the cult admin to relieve some of the pressure on the main group. Eliza was now fighting one against three, wielding the combined power of six different five-star gengar to combat a tyranitar, banette, and hydreigon.

Fulton said a small prayer for Eliza and moved his real body as far away from her as possible, unwilling to get caught up in the crossfire between multiple five-star and six-star combatants.

Fulton noticed the cult admin beginning to return to the main battlefield and prepared to go lure him away again when the Rift started acting up and emitting scorching black light.

Hundreds of gastly and haunter began spilling out of the tear in reality, flooding the forest with more ghosts and weakening the boundary between worlds even more.

Half of the surviving ace trainers ceased trying to kill off the cultists and their pokemon and turned to go tackle the army of ghosts. Fulton wanted the credit for stalling the cult admin, so he directed Nanook to go deal with the ghost fodder in his place.

Manfred couldn't use earthquake on a battlefield filled with so many friendlies, so Fulton had him use his awesome power to crush all the weaker cultists one by one. Bathory was still hiding in the shadows, lashing out with her dark claws every now and again and reaping the life of a haunter or cultist whenever she moved.

Fulton prepared himself to engage with the cult admin once more when the sky started brightening, and he paled.

Hundreds of basketball sized fireballs were raining down from the sky, coming in on an arc like artillery shells and setting fire to the gastly and haunters pouring out form the Rift. At first, the ghost's ignored the burning flames, but their expressions gradually turned to fear and then pain as they wailed in horror.

All the External rangers on the field retreated instantly, and the Ace rangers bunkered down, waiting out the artillery bombardment. Fulton created a rampart of ice and covered it with an igloo, letting the spherical shape of his dome disperse the impacts of the artillery.

Eliza paid no heed to the fireballs, howling madly and continuing to beat the shit out of the three pokemon blocking her path. The many eyes on her body swivelled continously at high speed to track the enemies around her, and then discharged brilliant purple rays which began chipping away at the three pokemon. Each ray seemed to briefly stun them, before the pokemon returned angrier than ever to attack Eliza again.

What happened next, Fulton wasn't quite sure, but he heard a shattering noise as his igloo deformed and broke apart, and the next thing he knew, he was struggling to breathe. A scaled hand was clenched around his throat and had lifted him off the ground, and was squeezing hard to asphyxiate him.

Bathory emerged from the shadows to slash at the cult admin, but to no avail, as he stoically tanked the hit and ignored it. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Fulton deposed water into ice around his neck to create a collar of ice, displacing the hand clenched around his neck slightly and letting him slip out.

"Switch!" Fulton shouted quickly.

The world around him warped as he was ejected through space, and Fulton found himself next to Carzi. "Thanks, girl," he muttered, rubbing his hands around his neck in pain. "I almost died just now."

By now, the battle was coming to a close.

Nearly all the External cultists had been slaughtered, and the surviving Ace cultists were either fleeing or had grouped up next to the cult admin.

Many of Eliza's grotesque eyes had been blinded and permanently shut, leaving blister-like holes and sores within her skin that deformed what otherwise would have been a great beauty. Next to her feet lay a dead tyranitar, and the banette's mouth had been torn open, it's stitching hanging limply. The hydreigon had taken a beating, with two of its six wings completely ripped off, and one of its heads smashed in.

While Fulton knew it could regrow its heads given time, the sensation of having your head smashed in was surely not a pleasant one.

With the decrease in bloodshot eyes open on Eliza's body, some of her rationality had apparently returned.

"Everyone, regroup on me!" Eliza weakly shouted. "We shall close the Rift now!"

"Says who?" The cult admin sneered. "You're nearly dead, and you're still thinking about trying to close the Rift? Stop dreaming!" He took a step forward to intimidate the rangers gathered, before finding himself unable to walk any further.

Brutus exited from the Rift dragging a bloodied body behind him, and he tossed it to the ground in front of the head admin. "Says me! I'm closing the Rift!"

The cult admin gaped. "No!"

He lunged towards Brutus, but before he could get there, Brutus stomped down viciously, exploding the head of the man on the floor.

Instantly, the Rift began trembling, and it's cavernous maw began receding and slowly closing. The stream of ghosts stemmed, and the remaining rangers were able to pick them off one by one.

Eliza limped towards Brutus and took up formation, cornering the cult admin.

"You'll never take me alive," the admin sneered. He moved to kill himself, but before he could do anything, Gavin appeared out of the blue and pressed his palm upon his hand, rendering the man powerless.

"You won't be going anywhere, pal," Gavin smirked. "I was hired for a reason you know? We can't have all our captives committing suicide."

The cult admin paled at the realization that he couldn't commit suicide, before glancing at Brutus. Fulton's captain had a nasty smile on his face.

"Just wait until General Agatha gets her hands on you," he said nastily. "She's going to pull your soul out of your body and let you experience a lifetime of torture. Those who dare to open Rifts must be prepared for the punishment."

Without much more fanfare, Brutus knocked the cult admin unconscious and had one of his gengar place a curse on the man.

"Good work ranger," Brutus said to Fulton. "Good job on distracting this guy while I was taking care of the Rift."

Fulton gave him a sharp salute and a small nod. "Just doing my job sir."

Fulton had his eye on the strange branch Eliza carried, but before he could swipe it, it merged into the ground and vanished.

"That's a branch from the Soul Tree which resides in the Whispering Woods," Brutus explained, seeing Fulton's attempt to nab it. "Are you really sure you want to steal from a Titled Pokemon?"

Hearing that, Fulton paled a little and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Is it really? If I may ask, sir, why was Eliza carrying that?"

"Just a little contingency," Brutus said, waiving Fulton off. "If she was truly unable to fight off the cult admin, she could have channelled the branch of the Soul Tree to summon a fraction of its power. General Agatha is a Ghost Sovereign, and has made an alliance with the Soul Tree which resides in Celadon's Whispering Woods. It hates Rifts as much as we do, and it would have lent a helping hand if we couldn't deal with it."

"Truthfully speaking," Brutus continued, "One of the local great clans here, the Beldings, also have some kind of deal with the Soul Tree. I'm not aware of the specifics, but their Grass Sovereign has been alive even longer than General Agatha, and he's apparently got some sort of relationship with the Soul Tree. He might be on the verge of dying, but if we actually let the Rift get out of hand, he would have stepped in himself to contain the problem."

"Should I call in some cleaners from HQ?" Fulton asked. It was standard procedure to clean up bodies from battlefields, and the Ranger Corps had dedicated fixers who handled this.

"No. Leave it for the forest."

"The forest sir?"

"You'll see," was Brutus's response.

Brutus turned to gather the other rangers and departed.

Fulton glanced back behind him as they left and saw something shocking. Some of the trees further away were walking - yes, walking closer to the battlefield, and their roots tore out of the ground, exposing giant mouths. They began to consume the dead bodies, and the spilt blood of the cultists sank into the earth as if it was never there.

Unbeknownst to anyone - except for perhaps the Soul Tree, the seal on an extradimensional prison was beginning to loosen. Although unintended, the opening of a Rift in the Whispering Woods had weakened the boundaries between the material world and foreign dimensions just enough that someone else was able to take advantage of it.

Deep within the forest, the air around a stagnant pond shattered like glass and a young woman came tumbling out, rolling across the forest floor like a ragdoll. She exuded a boundless fairy aura, and her mere presence made the world around her shake. A small smile crept onto her face. She was free once more.

AN: Wow, has it really been a month since I last posted? Jokes aside, I should be back to posting more regularly. I had to deal with a ton of university stuff, and ranging from visa applications to what not. It is good to be back!

The RSG is beginning to heat up, and you've all gotten a glimpse into Fulton's hectic life. More fun awaits next chapter! We'll be back for Erika's final few rounds.

EDIT: I have noticed some people confused with the term "four great types". When I used the word "great" I wasn't implying strength, only lifespan. Grass, Dragon, Ghost, and Fairy tend to be the longest living types, and grant the most benefit to trainers in terms of prolonging their lives. I drew it from their associated myths/concepts. Trees live a very long time, ghosts are undead, fairies are immortal, dragons live a long time, etc...

As usual, come join the discord if you want! Link below.

https://discord.gg/J6ygNC8VhQ