"Ash, don't be reckless! That Gyarados is not sothing you can handle!"
Professor Oak ordered the nearby students to back off, then rushed forward with Dragonite at his side, shouting loudly.
"Professor, trust ."
Ash turned his head, eyes bright and firm. "That Gyarados already expended a lot of energy underwater. Froakie and I can defeat it."
"Besides, I'm still in the middle of my evaluation. You can't interfere without just cause."
"…This…"
Faced with Ash's amber-brown eyes, clear as polished gems and filled with unwavering resolve, Oak found himself speechless.
He glanced at the river, where Gyarados now visibly showed signs of fatigue. After a brief hesitation, he chose to respect Ash's will.
"Alright then. But Ash, be careful. If it becos too much to handle, retreat imdiately—don't force it."
"Dragonite and I will be right behind you. If anything goes wrong, we'll act instantly," Oak promised.
"Yes, Professor."
Ash nodded, then took a deep breath. It was ti to begin his grand capture operation.
"Froakie, use Aqua Ring!"
Still gripping his fishing rod tightly with one hand, Ash issued his first command.
"Froooakie!"
From the riverbank, Froakie let out a cry, activating Aqua Ring—its body surrounded by a soft, healing glow—then powerfully kicked off the ground and leapt into the water.
The fishing line, still taut, remained hooked firmly in Gyarados's gaping maw. This wasn't a typical battle. It was a showdown: Ash and Froakie versus the raging leviathan of the river!
"ROAR!!"
Gyarados, now completely imrsed in its 'role,' lifted its massive head and let out a furious roar, silencing the chattering students nearby. Their faces turned pale in an instant, and no one dared speak.
Ash didn't even glance back at them—or at Oak.
"Froakie, blind it with Frubbles!"
His voice was sharp, commanding, focused.
Froakie, half-subrged, responded without hesitation. It reached behind its neck and swiftly plucked two globs of sticky Frubbles, then with smooth and elegant motion, hurled them straight at Gyarados.
Since Ash wasn't using aura telepathy to issue commands, the Gyarados—who wasn't officially caught yet—had no idea what Ash was instructing.
So when Froakie tossed the Frubbles, Gyarados naturally assud it was under attack.
It reacted instantly—coiling its thick tail in front like a shield.
But it had guessed wrong.
Frubbles weren't offensive—they were a control move. And their target? Its eyes.
Smack—!
"ROAR!!"
The mont both Frubbles struck its face, covering its eyes in sticky foam, Gyarados let out a wild, infuriated roar. Blinded, it flailed in confusion, unable to see its enemy.
Ash seized the opportunity.
"Froakie! Keep your distance—use Bubble!"
"Froaaa!"
Froakie shot into the air, cheeks puffing out before releasing a barrage of hollow, pressurized water spheres.
Pop pop pop pop—!!
Gyarados, blind and massive, couldn't dodge. With its enormous body, it was practically a sitting target. The bubbles rained down on its scaled hide with loud pops.
"ROOOAR!!"
Enraged and disoriented, Gyarados thrashed its body wildly. Winds howled across the river. Waves rose. Above them, thunder rolled in the sky as dark clouds rapidly gathered.
"Is it using Rain Dance…?"
Ash narrowed his eyes.
Shhhh...
Monts later, the rain began to fall—soft and steady.
The students, led by Assistant Thorne, retreated from the riverbank, seeking shelter. But Oak and Dragonite remained, standing silently behind Ash, soaked but vigilant.
Ash, anwhile, stood firm.
His clothes were drenched. Hair flattened against his forehead. Mud caked his pants. His sandals had slipped halfway down his heels.
But none of it mattered.
He was focused on one thing.
"Froakie! Don't get close. Stay at range and keep attacking Gyarados!"
"Froakie!"
Froakie's move pool wasn't vast—just Pound, Bubble, and Quick Attack.
Gyarados had weaker special defense than physical, but Froakie wasn't about to rush in on a beast that could crush it in one swing.
So it stuck with hit-and-run tactics.
Bubble after Bubble, weaving in and out of the water with agile grace, using Aqua Ring to steadily recover health. Though each hit didn't deal much damage…
The war of attrition had begun.
Ten minutes… fifteen minutes…
Though Gyarados had the strength of a titan, it was fighting blind—unable to see, unable to aim.
And Ash?
He never let go of the fishing rod.
Running along the bank, spinning the reel, keeping the tension just right. Occasionally pulling the line, subtly redirecting Gyarados's movents—controlling the battlefield from above.
Rain kept falling.
The boy on the riverbank looked like a drenched scarecrow. Water stread from his hair, into his eyes—his vision stinging, his body soaked, his clothes stuck to his skin like wet paper.
But he didn't flinch.
All he saw was Froakie. Gyarados. And the rod in his hand—his lifeline in this battle.
Fifteen minutes… twenty…
Froakie launched Bubbles from afar, and when it saw an opening, zipped in with Quick Attack—slamming into Gyarados like a blur.
Ash, on the other hand, kept dancing along the riverbank, manipulating the line, always staying ahead of Gyarados's thrashes, preventing it from snapping the hook.
His tactics were simple—perhaps even basic.
But neither Professor Oak nor the campers watching from afar could look away.
Soaked to the bone, sprinting back and forth, dragging Gyarados in a tactical tug-of-war… that boy, reckless and wild, was also deeply, profoundly admirable.
This battle lasted over thirty minutes.
And Ash had never once considered giving up.
That relentless belief… that unshakable willpower… that fierce, unbending perseverance—
Even the storm above seed to be moved.
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