Ash was late for the most important morning of his life. He ran up the lab's front steps, sweat on his neck, and told himself he would win the League championship in every region someday. First he needed a partner. Trainers his age had already come and gone. He had overslept. Now three Poké Balls waited on a table, and he had no idea which one held his future. A researcher in a stained coat opened the first two balls. An orange lizard stepped out and swished its flaming tail. Beside it, a yellow mouse with red cheeks stretched and yawned. Both looked strong. Both looked ready. Ash reached for the fire lizard first. It bared small teeth and hissed. He pulled his hand back. He tried the yellow mouse instead. Sparks jumped from its cheeks and stung his fingers. He yelped and shook his hand. "They can tell when a trainer isn't sure," the researcher said. He crossed his arms. "Pick one and mean it." Ash froze. He wanted a strong partner, but strength meant nothing if the Pokémon wouldn't trust him. He looked from the lizard to the mouse. Neither would meet his eyes. Then the third ball rocked on its own. It popped open before anyone touched it. A small orange pig tumbled out. It had long black ears, a yellow snout, and a curled tail tipped with a glowing ember. It trotted straight to Ash and pressed its warm nose against his shin. The ember on its tail brightened. "That one wasn't part of the choice," the researcher said. He frowned. "It's stubborn. Two trainers already returned it." Ash knelt. The fire pig snorted a puff of smoke and grinned up at him. It didn't hiss. It didn't shock him. It leaned into his hand like it had already decided. "Him," Ash said. "I want him." The researcher sighed and closed the other two balls. The lizard and the mouse vanished in red light. "Fine. But those two were bred for battle. That one loses more than it wins." The words stung worse than the sparks. Ash's stomach tightened. He had picked the reject, the Pokémon nobody kept, and he had a championship to win. He stood and looked down at his new partner. The fire pig stared back, sure of itself, tail burning steady. Ash swallowed his doubt. "We'll prove him wrong," he told the pig. "Both of them." The fire pig squealed and stomped a small hoof. A spark leapt from its tail and scorched the lab floor. The researcher groaned and reached for a cloth. Ash grabbed the empty ball, called his partner back, and walked out the door. He had a Pokémon now. He also had a partner two trainers had already given up on, and no gym badge to his name. The first battle would have to come next.

By midday Ash found his first real fight. A trainer with round glasses waved him over near a stand of trees. Her Meditite sat cross-legged in the grass, eyes half closed and calm. Ash's stomach flipped. He had a Pokémon now. He needed a win to prove he'd chosen right. He tossed the ball and let his fire pig out. The pig landed, snorted smoke, and looked back at Ash. It didn't face the Meditite. It stared at him instead, tail ember flickering low, as if daring him to fail it like the others had. "Tackle!" Ash yelled. The pig flicked one black ear and stayed put. "Please. Just once." Nothing. The Meditite opened its eyes and struck first, a fast palm that knocked the pig sideways into the dirt. Ash's face burned. Two trainers had returned this Pokémon. Now he understood why. It wouldn't trust a single command. "Get up," he begged. The pig climbed to its feet, but it kept its back half turned, watching him, waiting for him to quit. The Meditite gathered focus for another blow. Ash had a choice. He could shout louder, or he could stop shouting. He knelt in the grass, right down at the pig's level, and dropped his voice. "I know they gave you back," he said. "I'm not them. I picked you when he told me not to. Hit that thing with me, not for me." The pig turned. For the first time in the battle it looked at the Meditite instead of at Ash. Its ember flared bright. When Ash pointed and said "Now," the pig charged. It slammed into the Meditite before the strike landed. The blue Pokémon skidded back and lost its calm. Ash jumped up. "Again! Ember!" The pig spat a spray of hot sparks. The Meditite curled away, singed, and dropped to one knee. The other trainer sighed and recalled her Pokémon. "Good pig," she said, and adjusted her glasses. "Didn't expect that." She paid Ash a few coins and walked off toward the trees. Ash dropped back down beside his partner. The pig pressed its warm nose to his knee, the way it had in the lab. It obeyed him now. It trusted him now. The reject had won its first battle. "We did it," Ash breathed. Then he heard a low growl behind him. He turned. A wild Pokémon stood in the shadow of the trees. It was tall and shaggy, gray and white, with a stiff mane and red eyes fixed on the tired pig. A cracked metal ring hung from one black arm. It had watched the whole fight. It had seen the pig burn something weaker, and it wanted a turn. The pig backed against Ash's leg, ember shrinking. It trusted Ash now. That trust was about to be tested against something far bigger than a Meditite.

The wild Pokémon lowered its head and charged. Ash's fire pig stood between them, legs shaking, its tail ember down to a spark. It had nothing left. One hit from that shaggy giant would break it. Ash grabbed the pig and rolled, and the big Pokémon crashed past them into the dirt. Ash scrambled up. His pig lay panting in the grass. It looked at him, not away this time, waiting for him to do something. Ash had no other Pokémon. He had no potion. He had only his own two hands and a partner too tired to run. Then a yellow shape shot out of the trees. A small Pokémon with pointed black-tipped ears skidded to a stop between Ash's pig and the ringed beast. Its red cheeks crackled. It bared its teeth at the giant and would not move. Ash knew that Pokémon. He had seen it that first morning at the research lab, darting across the counters while the scientist recommended the stronger choices. The little mouse had watched him pick the reject pig. Now it had followed him here. The wild Pokémon swung one black arm, the cracked ring glinting. Ash acted on instinct. "Thunder!" he shouted, though the mouse wasn't his and owed him nothing. It listened. Yellow light burst from its cheeks and tore across the grass. The bolt slammed into the ringed beast's chest. The giant froze, smoking, then toppled backward into the trees. It thrashed once, staggered up, and crashed away through the brush. The red eyes were gone. Silence. Ash's ears rang. His pig lifted its head and blinked at the yellow mouse. The mouse blinked back, cheeks still sparking, then turned to face Ash. Ash crouched slow, the way he had knelt for the pig in the battle. "You came out of that lab," he said. "You didn't have to help me." The mouse tilted its head. It stepped closer and sniffed his hand. Ash understood then. This was a wild one now, loose and following him because it chose to. He pulled an empty ball from his belt. He didn't throw it. He held it flat on his open palm and waited. The mouse looked at the ball. It looked at the exhausted pig, who gave a soft, welcoming snort. Then it reached out and tapped the button itself. The ball opened, pulled it in with red light, shook twice, and clicked still. Ash let out a breath he'd been holding. Two Pokémon now. One he had chosen, one that had chosen him. But the ringed beast had run, not fallen. It had a trainer's metal on its arm, and someone had cracked that ring loose. Ash stared at the broken trees where it fled. Whatever had marked that Pokémon was still out there. And it had seen his face.

By morning the ringed beast was gone, but its trainer's mark stayed in Ash's mind. He could not chase a stranger. He could get stronger. He fed his fire pig from his last ration and let the yellow mouse ride his shoulder. Then he faced the road with a new question. To win a championship, he needed his first official challenge. He had no idea where to find one. The land ahead was dry and cracked. Ash walked until the dust coated his boots. He saw no signs, no buildings, no people. Just heat and stones. His fire pig snorted and stopped. Ahead of them, a small beetle rolled a ball of packed dirt across the path. Its face was bright magenta under a thick black moustache shape. It pushed the ball with its back legs, steady and slow. "Hey," Ash said. He crouched near it. "You live out here. You must know the way to town." The beetle ignored him and kept rolling. Ash pointed at the horizon. "A battle site. A gym. Anything." The beetle changed course. It rolled its ball straight toward a rise in the ground, then stopped and tapped the dirt with one leg. The ground moved. Three brown heads pushed up through the soil, close together, each crowned with long golden hair that swayed in the hot wind. They studied Ash with small dark eyes. His fire pig backed up. The mouse's cheeks began to spark. Ash raised both hands, palms open, the way he greeted wild things. "I'm not here to fight," Ash said. "I'm looking for the nearest place trainers register." The three heads turned toward each other, then dipped as one. They burrowed sideways through the dirt, leaving a shallow trench that pointed east. Ash followed the trench with his eyes. It ran toward a shape he had missed in the haze. He walked closer. A low building sat against the rocks, its roof flat and its walls marked with a battle emblem. Beside its door floated a steel-blue creature with red eyes and pale claws, a guard on watch. It scanned Ash, then his two Pokémon, and drifted aside to let him pass. Inside, a woman at a desk looked up. "New trainer?" she asked. Ash nodded and set his hands on the counter. "I want to register for the League challenge." She slid a form across the desk. "Sign here. This is a sanctioned site. Win here, and you earn your first badge." Ash signed. His hand shook a little. The beetle and the golden-haired trio had led him true, and now his name sat on an official list. He had a place to fight and a first badge to win. Then the woman turned the form back around and frowned. "You're the boy," she said. "Someone came through asking for a trainer with a fire pig. He left a message. He said he'd see you at the battle."

The woman's message sat cold in Ash's chest, but the battle came first. She led him out back to a dirt ring against the rocks. His fire pig stood beside him, sides still heaving from old fights. The yellow mouse drooped on his shoulder. Both were worn thin, and neither had faced a real gym battle. Ash knelt and pressed a hand to the pig's back. "One more," he whispered. "Then we rest." A man stepped into the ring. He wore a dusty coat and no smile. "You want a badge," he said. "Beat one of mine." He tossed a Poké Ball. A blue creature unfolded from the light, calm and seated, its pale head crest smooth. It opened one eye and studied the pig. "A Meditite," the man said. "Focused. Patient. It won't tire like yours." Ash chose the pig. It trotted forward on shaky legs, ember tail flickering low. The Meditite raised its guard. "Ember," Ash called. The pig spat fire. The Meditite slid aside and struck fast, a palm to the pig's jaw. The pig skidded back and nearly fell. It looked to Ash, breath ragged, eyes asking if he still believed. "I know you're tired," Ash said. "I'm not asking for perfect. I'm asking for now." The pig planted its feet. When the Meditite lunged again, Ash yelled, "Turn into it." The pig twisted and caught the strike on its shoulder. Then it loosed fire point-blank. The blaze washed over the Meditite, which crumpled and did not rise. The man stared. "That pig had nothing left," he said. He drew a small badge from his coat and set it in Ash's palm. "You believe in a broken thing. That's rare." Ash closed his fingers around the badge. His hands shook, same as when he'd signed the form. His first badge. The arc had cracked open one inch wider. He carried the pig and the mouse to shade near an old, weathered tree. Its bark had grown into the shape of a hound, sad-eyed, branches for legs, moss on its snout. Ash sat against it and let his two Pokémon breathe. "We did it," he told them. The mouse nuzzled his cheek. The pig slept. A shadow crossed the dirt. Ash looked up. At the ring's edge stood a sleek white beast, sabertooth fangs like blades, icy blue lines running down its coat. Cold air rolled off it. Behind it walked a figure Ash could not see clearly, hood pulled low. The beast's owner. The one who had left the message. "You won," the figure said. "Good. I don't want a weak opponent." The white beast lowered its head, and frost spread across the ground toward Ash's sleeping Pokémon. Ash rose, badge still in his fist, his team too spent to fight again. He had gained his first win and lost his one chance to rest. The stranger had come to collect.

The frost crept toward Ash's sleeping team. He stepped between them and the white beast, badge still tight in his fist. The pig lifted its head, ears twitching. The mouse blinked awake on Ash's shoulder. Both were too spent to fight. Ash knew it. The hooded figure knew it too. "They can't battle," Ash said. "Look at them. Give me a night. I'll meet you at dawn." "No." The figure did not move. The sabertooth crouched, ice spreading under its paws. "Now, or I take them. My ringed one already knows your face. This ends here." Ash's throat went dry. He would not order his exhausted Pokémon into a losing fight. But he would not let them be taken either. His eyes swept the ring's edge and found the old tree behind him. Its bark had grown into the shape of a hound, sad-eyed, moss on its snout. Beyond it stretched dark trees. A weathered sign leaned in the dirt. Forest of the Forgotten Dogs. Ash scooped the pig into his arms. "Then you'll have to catch us." He grabbed the mouse and ran for the trees. "Coward," the figure called. The white beast roared and gave chase. Ash crashed into the forest. Cold breath hissed behind him. He ran past twisted trunks carved like sleeping dogs, their worn faces watching. Roots grabbed at his boots. The mouse clung to his collar. The pig's ember tail flickered weak against his chest. He ducked behind the hound-shaped tree and pressed his back to its trunk. The sabertooth prowled into the clearing. Its head turned, hunting. Frost coated the ground. It could not see him yet. Ash whispered to the mouse. "One spark. Not the beast. The moss." He pointed at the dry moss strung between the branches above. The mouse's cheeks glowed. A thin thread of lightning snapped upward. The old wood caught. Fire raced along the dead branches and rained embers down between Ash and the white beast. The sabertooth flinched back from the flames. Fire beat ice here. Cold air met heat and turned to steam, thick and white. Ash could not see the beast. The beast could not see him. "Hurry," he breathed. He ran deeper, the smoke hiding his tracks. The pig stirred and pressed closer, trusting. Behind them the figure shouted through the haze. The voice grew thin, then lost. Ash did not stop until his legs failed. He knelt in the dark among the sad wooden hounds. The mouse slid down, panting. The pig looked up at him, eyes clear now, no longer asking if he believed. He had not won. He had not earned a night's rest. He had chosen to run, and it cost him the stranger's respect. But his team breathed. His team was whole. The badge still sat in his fist. He pressed his hand to the pig's back. "We're not ready for that one," he said. "So we get ready. Then we come back."

Morning found Ash still lost. He had walked all night since the fire hid his escape. Now the ringed beast's owner was far behind, but so was every path out. The fire pig trotted at his heels, tired and hungry. The mouse rode his shoulder. Ash's badge sat in his pocket, useless if he could not reach the next gym. Every hour spent here kept his team from healing and his training from starting. The trees around him wore strange faces. One trunk had grown into the shape of a hound with drooping ears and sad eyes. Another gnarled tree cradled the curled form of a sleeping dog in its branches. Ash stopped and turned in a slow circle. Every direction looked the same. Bark dogs watched him from all sides. "We keep circling," he said. "We passed that leaning tree twice." The fire pig lifted its snout and sniffed. Then it barked and trotted ahead, stopping at a tree shaped like a young dog covered in green leaves. The leafy dog seemed to face one way, its leaf ears pointed like a signpost. Ash knelt beside his pig. "You smell something?" The pig pawed the dirt in the direction the leaf-dog faced. Ash trusted it. The pig had trusted him once when no one else would. He followed where it pointed. The mouse's cheeks sparked, lighting the shadows between the trunks. They walked for an hour. The wooden hounds thinned. Then the fire pig broke into a run, squealing. Ash chased it through a gap in the trees and stumbled into open air. A weathered wooden sign leaned in the dirt. Its faded letters read: the Forest of the Forgotten Dogs. He had reached the far edge. Beyond it the ground fell away toward a valley. At the valley's bottom stood a dark building. Sharp spires rose from its roof. A carved skull glared above its doors, and pale blue flames guttered along its walls. Green light leaked from every window. It was a gym. A ghost-type gym. Ash's heart jumped. A gym meant a healing center nearby. A gym meant a second badge. A gym meant the arc of his journey moving forward again. He scooped up the fire pig and rubbed its head. "You got us out. Good work." Then he looked closer at the building. The blue flames did not flicker like normal fire. Shapes moved behind the green glass. No trainers stood at the doors. No line waited outside. Something about the place felt wrong, like it had been waiting for him. Ash set the pig down and started down the slope. His team was still tired. His pig's ember tail burned low. But he could not turn back into the forest of watching dogs. "One badge closer," he said. "Even if this one battles in the dark." He walked toward the skull-crowned doors.

The skull doors swung open on their own. Ash stepped into a hall lit by blue flame. His fire pig pressed against his leg. The mouse's cheeks sparked on his shoulder. At the far end sat the gym leader, robed and still. Beside her floated a small dark rat with oversized ears and creamy paws. Its eyes glowed faint white. It flickered, half there and half gone. "You look ready to lose," the leader said. "Fire and lightning. My ghosts eat both." Ash had never fought a ghost-type. He remembered a lesson someone once told him. Normal attacks pass through ghosts. His mouse could still bite. His pig could still tackle. But those would do nothing here. He needed a different kind of hit. The rat winked out and struck the pig from behind. The pig squealed and stumbled. Ash's stomach dropped. If he traded blind swings, this would end fast and ugly. He knelt and studied the rat. It faded before each attack, then flashed solid when it hit. That flash was the moment. That was when it could be touched. "Pig, don't chase it," Ash said. "Wait. Ember only when it lands." The pig snorted, unsure. Ash pressed his hand to its back. "I've believed in you before. Do it again." The rat vanished. Ash held his breath. It reappeared inches from the pig's snout. "Now!" The pig blew a burst of ember. Fire caught the rat mid-flash. It shrieked and dropped, singed and solid. The leader's eyes narrowed. She sent out a second ghost, a round orange creature with black-tipped ears and a forked tail, sparks jumping off its cheeks. It moved fast and blinked in and out like the rat. "Mouse, same plan," Ash called. "Wait for the flash." The orange ghost darted close and struck. The mouse rolled but held its ground. It watched, cheeks crackling. The ghost flickered, then flashed solid for its next hit. "Thunder, now!" Lightning speared the exact spot. The ghost seized and fell. Both ghosts lay beaten on the stone. The blue flames dimmed to a low glow. The leader rose and studied Ash for a long moment. "Most trainers panic and swing at empty air," she said. "You learned the rule in one match." She held out a small badge. "You earned it." Ash took it with a shaking hand. Two badges now. His pig ran a happy circle around his feet. The mouse climbed back to his shoulder. "There's a healing center up the valley path," the leader said. "A rounded red-and-white place. Your team needs it." Ash thanked her and stepped back into daylight. Down the slope he saw it, the cheerful domed roof with red trim. He had a badge, a healing center, and one new truth: he could beat what he could not touch. The arc goal moved one step closer. He started walking toward the doors.

Ash walked toward the domed roof with the red trim. His fire pig limped at his heels. The mouse sagged on his shoulder, cheeks dark and quiet. Both had spent everything against the ghosts. He only needed to reach the healing center doors. But the path forked at a weathered sign that read Forest of the Forgotten Dogs, and the domed roof sat past the trees. He took the shorter way, through the trees. Wrong choice. The path curled and doubled back. Old stumps carved like sleeping dogs watched from the moss. One stump wore the shape of a hound so worn its face had almost melted into the bark. Ash lost the roof behind the branches. His pig stopped and would not move. Then the ground shook. A gray-and-white shape crashed through the brush. It stood on two legs, mane bristling, black arms swinging. A cracked metal ring hung from one wrist. Red eyes locked on the pig. Ash knew that ring. The beast that once hunted his pig had evolved into this furious thing. "Run," Ash said. But his pig could barely stand. The Annihilape charged, fist raised. A voice cut the air. "Move aside." The ghost gym leader stepped from behind a twisted tree shaped like a watching dog. Saera. Her purple dress caught the dim light. She had followed him. She did not ask if he was hurt. "Your team can't fight," she said. "Mine can." She raised a hand. The dark rat ghost he had beaten yesterday flickered into the air beside her, healed and glowing. The Annihilape swung at it. The fist passed through empty air. The ghost blinked out, then flashed solid and slammed the beast's jaw. The Annihilape staggered. "Watch," Saera said to Ash. "You taught yourself the ghost's rule. Now use it against something that hits back." Ash understood. She was not saving him for free. She was testing him. "Pig, one ember," he said. "Wait for my word." The pig lifted its head. The Annihilape lunged at the ghost again and flashed forward, arms wide, wide open. "Now!" Ash shouted. The pig blew a thin ember into the beast's face. It flinched. In that half second Saera's rat struck its temple hard. The Annihilape dropped to one knee, then toppled into the moss. Silence. The cracked ring lay still. Saera studied Ash for a long moment. "You gave one good order with nothing left," she said. "That's why I followed you." She turned and pointed through the trees. The domed roof showed clear now. "Go. Heal them." Ash carried his pig the last stretch. The center doors slid open. Warm light spilled out. He set his team on the counter and finally breathed. But the ring told him something worse. The beast had an owner. The hooded figure was near, and now he knew Ash had healed, ready to fight again.

The healing machine hummed while Ash waited. A nurse laid his fire pig on a clean clinic bed and set the mouse beside it. Both slept under warm lights. Ash sat across the room and watched the doors, thinking of the cracked ring in the moss. The hooded figure knew he was here. Ash needed his team whole before that man arrived. An hour passed. The lights on the machine turned green. The nurse smiled. "They're strong again," she said. The fire pig hopped off the bed and pressed its snout to Ash's leg. Its curled tail glowed bright. The mouse's cheeks sparked, quiet no longer. Ash knelt and rubbed the pig's ears. For the first time in two days, his whole team stood ready. But resting was not enough. Ash had won two badges by beating ghosts and a ringed beast. The hooded figure's sabertooth was worse than both. If Ash met that ice cat with the same tricks, he would lose. He asked the nurse if any trainer trained near the center. She pointed through the wide window. Outside, a trainer sat on the grass with a small blue Pokémon. It kept its eyes shut, hands on its knees, breathing slow. A Meditite. Ash remembered the one he beat for his first badge. This one felt different. It did not move even when the mouse sparked near it. Ash asked for a practice battle. The trainer nodded. "My Meditite won't chase your attacks," she said. "It waits. Try to make it flinch." Ash sent out his fire pig. "Ember," he called. The pig blew flame. The Meditite tilted its head and the fire slid past. It had read the pig's stance before the attack landed. Ash tried again. Same result. The calm little Pokémon stepped aside each time, eyes barely open. Ash stopped shouting orders. He watched instead. The Meditite only moved when the pig committed. So Ash faked it. "Ember, hold," he said. The pig reared as if to blow. The Meditite shifted early. "Now, tackle low." The pig dropped and slammed its shoulder into the Meditite's legs. It tumbled onto the grass. The trainer laughed and helped her Pokémon up. "You fooled a mind reader," she said. "Most people just hit harder." Ash understood what he had learned. Against the sabertooth, raw power would fail. He would have to bait it, make it commit, then strike where it did not guard. He thanked the trainer and looked back at the domed center. His team was healed. He had a new weapon, a trick instead of muscle. But a shape stood at the edge of the trees now, hood pulled low, a white cat pacing at his side. The hooded figure had found the healing center. There was no forest to flee into this time.

Pikchu evolved into Pikachu,ash was so happy but there is more Charmander evolved into Charmeleon

Charmander had just become Charmeleon. Pikachu stood beside it, sparks jumping off its cheeks. The hooded figure raised his sabertooth for one more strike. Ash pointed and shouted. Charmeleon opened its jaws and let loose a wall of fire. The flames swallowed the sabertooth and drove the hooded figure back. When the smoke cleared, the man lay pinned under his own fallen Pokémon. His cracked-ring beast would not rise. For the first time, the hunter had nothing left to send. The man dragged himself up and stared at Ash. He said nothing. He recalled his Pokémon and limped out of the healing center. Ash did not chase him. He knelt by his team instead. Pikachu was hurt and shaking. It sniffed a purple berry on the floor, dropped from someone's bag, and swallowed it before Ash could grab it. The berry was a Leppa berry. Pikachu's ears perked. Its energy came rushing back, and it stood straight again. Ash laughed with relief. Then a warm voice spoke behind him. "Now that," it said, "was a battle worth walking in on." Ash turned. A tall man stood in the doorway, purple hair spilling from under a white cap, a long cape trailing behind him. He wore a grin like winning was a joke only he understood. This was Leon, an unbeaten champion Ash had only heard about in stories. Beside Leon came a rounder, older man in a stained lab coat, breathing hard. "Leon, you walk too fast," he complained. This was Professor Birch, a researcher who studied wild Pokémon in the field. Birch crouched and looked at Charmeleon with bright eyes. "A fresh evolution. And it fought off a trained sabertooth. Remarkable." Leon crossed the room and studied Ash's Charmeleon and Pikachu. "Two evolutions in one day," he said. "You've got fire in you, kid." He pulled a folded card from his cape and held it out. "There's a stadium built for trainers like you. A mini arena where challengers prove they belong before the real Elite Four." He smiled wider. "Beat me there, and I'll clear your path to the League here." Ash took the card. His hand was steady. He had survived the hunter, but he had learned nothing about winning a championship yet. Leon was offering a real door. "When?" Ash asked. "Now, if you dare," Leon said. He turned toward the exit. "The polished one, with the crisp tiers. You'll know it." Birch grabbed Ash's arm as Leon walked out. "Careful," the professor whispered. "Leon has never lost. Not once. He tests every trainer who catches his eye, and most leave crushed." His grip tightened. "But he never lies about a reward." Ash looked down at Charmeleon and Pikachu. Both stood ready. The hunter was gone. A champion had challenged him. He pocketed the card and stepped toward the door. His next fight would not be for survival. It would be for a title.

His Pikachu evolved into a Raichu and then is Charmeleon evolved into Charizard Leon was on his final Pokémon Charizard. It was a Charizard versus Charizard.

The two Charizards circled in the mini stadium. Ash's dragon breathed hard. Leon's dragon matched it, breath for breath, blast for blast. Every flame Ash called, Leon's Charizard answered. The crisp tiers of the arena roared, but Ash heard only his own Pokémon's tired wings. He had thrown his best moves. Leon had blocked them all. His Charizard could not last much longer against a champion who never blinked. "You fight well," Leon called across the arena. He stood straight, calm, a trainer who had never lost. "But matching me isn't enough. You have to beat me." Ash knew the man was right. Raw fire against raw fire was a wall he could not break. He remembered the ghost gym, and the borrowed Meditite he had trained against. He had won those fights with timing and tricks, not strength. He looked at his Charizard's tail flame. It flickered low. One chance left. "Charizard, dive low and drag your claws," Ash shouted. His dragon dropped and raked the polished floor. Sparks and dust flew up in a gray cloud. Leon's Charizard lost sight of its target. "Now up, behind it!" Ash's Charizard burst through the dust and rose behind the enemy. Leon opened his mouth to counter, but his dragon had turned the wrong way. "Seismic Toss!" Ash yelled. His Charizard seized the other by the shoulders, climbed, and hurled it down. The champion's Charizard slammed the arena floor and did not rise. The stadium fell silent. Then it exploded with noise. Ash's Charizard landed beside him, wings shaking, and let out a low, proud cry. Ash pressed his face against its warm neck. He had beaten an unbeaten champion. Leon recalled his fallen dragon and crossed the floor. Ash braced, unsure. But Leon smiled and held out his hand. "A real win," he said. "You used the dust. You found the opening I left. Most trainers never even look for it." He gripped Ash's hand hard. "I keep my word. Your path to the League is clear." As the crowd thinned, an old man in round glasses hurried down from the tiers. A researcher's badge hung from his neck, and his white coat flapped as he moved. Ash knew him from the labs he had passed through. "Professor Elm," Ash said, surprised. "I watched the whole match," the professor said, breathless. He looked at the tired Charizard, then at Ash. "That pig no one wanted. Look at it now." He pulled a worn map from his coat and pointed to a mountain path, a long stone stair climbing toward a summit above a quiet town. "The League registrar keeps his office at the top of those stairs. Leon cleared your path, but you still have to walk it. And a trainer with a clear path draws attention. Someone may be waiting up there." Ash took the map. His Charizard's flame steadied. The championship was open now. So was the climb.