NOVEL Pokemon: Master of tactics Chapter 480: Pokemon master of tactics - 480

Pokemon: Master of tactics

Chapter 480: Pokemon master of tactics - 480
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The unusual Flygon continued to live alone for years, adapting not only to his environment but also to his own growing strength.

Over time, he learned which attack moves were the most effective, refining them through repeated use and careful observation.

When there was no immediate need to hunt, he even began to practice deliberately, repeating certain moves until they became more precise and efficient.

This behavior was not entirely instinctive.

Within the vast desert, he occasionally encountered others of his kind—Vibrava circling above the dunes or Flygon gliding through the heated air currents. However, every encounter ended the same way.

The moment they noticed him, they fled.

There was no hesitation, no attempt to challenge him or even assess the situation. They simply turned and escaped as quickly as possible, as if facing something far beyond them.

Even one Flygon, clearly more experienced and stronger by several levels, reacted no differently. The instant it saw the abnormal figure with the white horns and overwhelming size, it retreated without a second glance.

The special Flygon observed all of this without any visible reaction.

At least at first. Gradually, however, something began to form within him. He recognized the pattern. He understood what their reactions meant and he start feeling something.

Not emotion in the usual sense, but a quiet sense of power, a subtle satisfaction that came from realizing he could inspire such immediate fear in creatures of his own species.

He began to pay closer attention to their expressions in those brief moments before they fled—the tension in their movements, the urgency in their escape.

And with that observation came an unfamiliar urge.

A desire to pursue.

Not out of hunger, but to see what would happen if they did not escape. To see how they would react if they were forced to fight instead of flee.

The thought lingered longer than it should have. But something else pushed back against it.

His instincts.

Deep within his nature, there was a resistance to that kind of behavior. Hunting without purpose, attacking without need, was not part of what he was meant to do.

There was a conflict.

He did not fully understand it, but he recognized that the urge itself was unusual.

In the end, he chose not to act on it. The satisfaction he gained from their fear was enough—for now.

And so, the Flygon continued to exist within a vast stretch of desert that gradually became known, at least among Pokémon, as a place to avoid.

Over the years, his presence shaped the behavior of everything within that place, until he effectively became the dominant force of that territory.

A alone ruler.

One day, the stillness of his territory was disturbed. A presence entered without hesitation.

The Horned Desert King noticed her long before she came into view. The vibrations in the air, the subtle shift in the wind patterns—someone was flying directly toward him without attempting to hide or change direction.

When she finally appeared on the horizon, her silhouette cut cleanly through the heated air. A female Flygon, clearly experienced, her movements controlled and deliberate.

She came straight to him.

He remained where he was, hovering above the sand, his wings producing their low, steady hum. His gaze followed her calmly as she closed the distance, showing no signs of aggression, but also no caution.

When she stopped a short distance away, she did not retreat. Instead, she looked at him directly.

There was no fear in her eyes, only curiosity. "You're the Horned Desert King, right?" ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

He instinctively understood what a name was and that it referred to him. It seems, over the years, the others had given him a name. He had never needed one, never asked for one, but he recognized its purpose.

He accepted it without thought.

His gaze remained steady as he replied, his voice low and controlled. "What do you want in my territory?"

The female Flygon studied him for a moment, before answering without hesitation. "I want to form a pack of our species with you."

She paused briefly, then added, just as directly, "And I want to be your mate."

He listened without interrupting, but there was a faint shift in his expression—a rare sign of confusion.

Both requests felt Illogical.

He had no need for a pack. The desert already provided more than enough for one of his strength, and even a group of Flygon would not require control over such a vast territory.

More importantly, he did not understand the purpose behind her desire.

"Why?"

The question came without emotion, but with genuine curiosity.

Her answer was simple. "Because I want to. I want to be part of a group that controls the entire desert. And I want my children to be strong enough to control it after us."

He looked at her in silence.

From his perspective, her reasoning made little sense. There was no necessity behind it, no clear benefit that justified the effort or risk. Controlling the entire desert was excessive. he had no use for such much land.

For a moment, he considered rejecting her outright. His instincts leaned in that direction. But something held him back.

This Flygon was different. Unlike the others, she had not fled. Unlike the others, she had approached him with intent, with a goal that went beyond simple survival.

Her reasoning was strange but, he wanted to see where it would lead.

After a brief pause, he gave his answer. "Okay. I accept your request."

Many more years passed quickly.

During this time, not only did he and the female Flygon become mates, but he also "persuaded" several other Flygon to join his pack.

It was during this period that the special Flygon realized how useless the other Flygon of his species were.

They grew stronger much more slowly than he did, while his own strength continued to increase, leaving the others far behind.

Only the female Flygon was halfway decent, in his estimation. Although she was no longer on a similar level to him, she was still far ahead of the other Flygon.

The female Flygon became pregnant during this time, but the Pokémon in the egg died before it could be born.

He personally did not feel much emotion about this loss, but he remembered the conversation he had with the female Flygon that day.

When the rest of the pack was asleep and both of them were lying in their nests…

she said, "Have you ever thought about what our role in this world is?"

He was already used to her unusual way of thinking, so he was not surprised to hear such a strange question.

He gave an indifferent expression. "Role? Maybe just one—to live and die."

The female Flygon looked at the stars before saying, "Have you ever asked yourself what our instincts are? Why they give us so much knowledge throughout our lives, and how it influence us?"

He continued to answer indifferently, "You can ask these questions about anything. Why does the sun shine? Why is water liquid? Those are meaningless questions."

The female Flygon looked at him as she said, "But those questions do not influence our lives. Mine do. Our instincts give us so much information throughout our lives, but it also impose invisible rules that we have to follow."

After a brief moment, he replied, "Rules? You can hardly call them rules if you can easily break them. I could start killing every Pokémon I see right now and cause as much damage to nature as possible."

The female Flygon whispered, "I don't think there is no punishment for breaking those rules."

The special Flygon did not reply and began to fall asleep.

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