Incarnated Whisp
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Chapter 155
🕑 Added 2025-04-22 22:42:08 +0000 UTCAuthor Note:
If you haven’t seen it, I made an announcement post about the poll for the next fiction, which can be found here. To quickly summarize it, the poll will be more about choosing preferred concepts and tropes rather than only an explicit Type specialty, helping me narrow down my ideas.
I want to thank everyone who left a comment on that post—there was an insane number of them. Apologies for not responding to everyone; I quickly became overwhelmed, but I have read every single one of them. Already, you’ve helped me enough that I can see a few changes to make. I’ll likely be removing the “high-tier” Legendary option, and I’ll be including options for things like a Generalist focus, a Sandstorm Team, and a Flying Type specialty.
As it stands, expect the poll to be up on Royal Road next Tuesday.
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The Silver Conference was Johto’s biggest event. Tens of thousands of people would flood into Silver Town to witness its festivities. Even outside of the tournament, the town was going to be packed. There would be parties, vendor booths, shows, and other, smaller tournaments meant for trainers who hadn’t gathered all eight Gym Badges. Alternatively, there were a handful of competitions even smaller than those that consisted of fights with wild restrictions meant to twist battling in brand-new ways.
All of that had been taking place over the past week ever since the season had ended, and the preliminary rounds of the Silver Conference itself were yet to start. Last-minute sign-ups were actively going on, and the weekend’s many, many battles were soon to begin.
But even with all of that levity, Champion Lance was busy.
Lance was exactly what his title called him: Champion. He might have stood at the top, but the end of Johto’s season meant many ongoing assignments had ended as well. As a result, he faced a river of paperwork being fed his way, and his attention was split between all of those reports, requests, and general approvals.
It did not matter that he had done the same for Kanto’s Conference at the end of its season, naught but a month prior. This was the same work but on another region’s behalf, yet it wasn’t truly another region, as Johto and Kanto carried the same level of priority in his heart.
Lance was the Champion for all of Indigo, and he had a duty to all of it instead of just one of its halves. He would have preferred to be in his office within the League’s Indigo Plateau headquarters, but League policy mandated that the Champion remain on site for any Conference tournaments. Given the chaos that could start with so many high-level Pokémon in one place, he needed to be present in case of an emergency.
And it was an emergency.
At least, in his opinion.
Because, for all intents and purposes, Indigo was at war.
This was not a loud, violent war against another polity, nor was it a quiet war of improvement similar to the most recent one of the past. No, this was a slow, subtle fight against the insidious forces of Team Rocket. Lance might have been facing a veritable flood of paperwork, but it was all paperwork sent to him upon his own request.
Half of these forms dealt with expeditions and reconnaissance jobs, with people being sent out to search for and hunt down any and all hints of Team Rocket. Other papers were reports sent to him from every city in Indigo. He had demanded that all crime be reported to his analysts and then passed to him, no matter how small that crime might have seemed on the surface.
Was that excessive? Most likely. But he had sworn an oath to his home when he took on the mantle of the Indigo’s Champion. It was his mandate and purpose as a Dragon Type Master to protect those beneath him and crush anyone who would threaten their peace.
Still.
He would have welcomed a break, even something as work-like as a patrol.
He longed to be on the back of one of his Dragons, flying over a city and assisting in the hunt for crime. He yearned to be on the front lines, fighting Team Rocket with a squadron of Ace Trainers at his back. All criminals deserved to be behind bars, and his team members deserved to have the chance to stretch.
Especially his most recently acquired partner, the third Dragonite to join his team. Out of all of his Pokémon, it was the weakest, but it had a drive to be strong that was not seen in many other fighters.
Clair had been right to send that Dragonite to him.
Lance half-daydreamed, half-focused on his work, reading through the piles upon piles of paperwork needed to direct the ongoing war against Team Rocket. This tiny, Silver Town office felt cramped, but he ignored that discomfort to focus on a greater purpose. Soon, he would take on a far more ceremonial role once the Conference properly started, but for now, its festivities were nothing more than muffled background noise coming in through his closed window. A nearly muted newscaster spoke of the Conference’s events at low volume through a nearby television.
A knock came from his office’s door. It took Lance only a second’s debate to decide he’d welcome the unexpected meeting as a reprieve from all of this paperwork.
“Enter,” he said.
Lance knew who was approaching him before his guest had even stepped into the room. Shadows seeped in through the gap under the door, peeking in and scanning their surroundings for threats.
Only one Gym Leader had Pokémon that acted so independently, and only one Type of Pokémon could behave with such intentions of subtlety.
But Lance was perceptive. It only took him a single, sharp glare for those Pokémon to back off.
Honestly, they should have known better than to enter a Dragon’s lair unannounced.
“Champion Lance,” Morty greeted as he closed the door behind him. “Apologies for the unexpected meeting, but I have some concerns to share with you about the schedule for the Conference this year.”
“Ah.”
Lance placed down his pen and crossed his hands. Morty recognized the gesture as permission to sit, and he deposited himself onto the opposite chair.
Neither spoke immediately. Lance took in the Gym Leader with a discerning look. Most would have backed down from a Dragon’s harsh gaze, but Morty did not turn away. Though respectful, he remained defiant.
Good.
There was a reason why Lance had accepted Morty's challenge against him.
“If your concerns are about my recent adjustments to the Conference's schedule, you do not need to worry,” Lance said to his guest. “The changes to the Conference will not see our battle rescheduled. The tournament will end on the expected date, and you will get your agreed-upon match once the finals have concluded.”
“I’m not here about that,” Morty replied.
Lance purposefully raised an eyebrow.
“I’m here about the Conference itself and not for anything about me,” the Gym Leader continued. “You know how Ecruteak works. We celebrate our history. And because of that, I’ve been receiving some... concerns about the Conference’s shift away from tradition.”
“So it is not your concerns you wish to share, but the concerns of others.”
“Yes,” Morty answered.
Lance let out a scoff.
“Politics,” he said flatly.
He got a chuckle out of Morty with that comment.
Personally, Lance had also experienced concerns from the elders of the Blackthorn Clan, but Lance was the Champion. He had the right and purpose to make the changes he commanded. The Indigo Conference for Kanto’s season had seen similar adjustments, but Kanto was less tied to its traditions. Also, Kanto’s Indigo Conference historically followed a classic tournament schedule, so few had blinked when Lance greatly increased the number of its participants.
However, Johto was not Kanto, as Lance had truly come to understand. Johto had its own set of beliefs and traditions, and what he had done had almost overstepped his bounds.
Almost.
But they were at war, so his choices had been necessary. For this year and this year alone, the Conference had been changed away from Johto’s usual standard.
“Simply tell them that there is no need to worry,” Lance said smoothly, his fingers interlaced. “The Conference always experiences changes each year; there is precedent behind what I have done. While adjusting the size and format may seem major, it is not so in any way that matters. Assure them that the standard will return once this crisis is over—if I have my way, then that will be true next year.”
As it stood, the Silver Conference traditionally operated with only forty-eight competitors. The preliminary matches would see the Conference’s referees select the best of the best, and once those forty-eight were chosen, they would be further divided into sixteen blocks of three to decide which one challenger would move on.
The end result was a sixteen-person tournament meant to find the absolute most skilled trainer in Johto.
Of course, with his changes, Lance was not doing any of that.
“Sure. I understand what changes you’ve made and how the Conference is going to proceed,” Morty said, casually leaning back in his chair. “The problem is that people want answers. They want to know why you’ve made those changes this year.”
Lance sent him a mirthless stare. He thought the explanation was apparent, but that didn’t seem to be true for everyone.
“It’s simple,” Lance said. “I need recruits, and modifying the tournament gives me a larger pool to draw from.”
Morty sent him a stare right back, but Lance just continued.
“This year, the Silver Conference will be a full, 256-person tournament. There will be no groups. No qualifiers. Only the preliminary rounds and the tournament itself. It will be greater than even Kanto’s classic 128-person tournament. But it will maximize the number of competing trainers while also minimizing the number forced to sit out.”
“The usual observers will be in place?” Morty asked, curious.
“Of course, and in greater numbers. All stand-out trainers will receive an offer to enter the League’s Ace Trainer corps,” Lance confirmed.
“So you’re doing this to increase the number of trainers you can observe,” Morty said with a hum. “All of this to send out more offers and increase the number of Ace Trainers under your command?”
It was risky. Desperate. But Lance had found he had no other choice. He would get his detractors, people claiming quantity over quality was a waste of funds, but right now, quantity was exactly what he needed.
Team Rocket had existed for years without his knowledge, and the true extent of its corruption was becoming more and more apparent with each passing mission. Giovanni had already purged most of Kanto’s Ace Trainer forces of Team Rocket infiltrators, but yet—
The results have been dissatisfying. And there is something about his smile that I do not like.
It sounded paranoid, but a gut feeling was telling Lance that he needed Ace Trainers who were independent and operated directly under him. He had nothing motivating him to take this action save for that strange, almost out-of-place feeling, but his instincts were as honed as they were due to experience, and those instincts had carried him into his current role as Champion.
Even if he was wrong—which he desperately hoped he was—having more squadrons at his disposal would only help against Team Rocket, anyway.
“Alright. Wow. So this tournament is going to be the largest in not just years, but decades,” Morty stated, pressing his knuckles to his chin. “You know that handling two hundred competitors is going to require over two hundred battles, right? And don’t think that I’ve missed how the Conference will still only last seven days.”
Lance did not blink.
“Yes. I know.”
“So you’re really going to have that many matches in such a short time?”
“I am.”
“But that’s eight rounds of battles for the winning trainer—drastically more than the usual five,” Morty pointed out.
Lance did not shift out of his commanding posture, and Morty’s words only reaffirmed his decision. Seeing the Gym Leader look so shocked, Lance let a confident smile pass over his face, and Morty went on to reply with an amazed yet disbelieving shake of his head.
“I can’t believe you’re actually... How many trainers do we have coming in?” he asked.
“Combining all of the eight-badge trainers, the Trainer School graduates, the permitted holdovers from last season, and the handful of seeded competitors, we’ll have just over four hundred,” Lance answered.
Morty slumped in his seat and let his arms drape over its back. Lance could hear the sound of his fingers tapping echo from behind him.
“It’s not going to just be a test,” Morty said. “It’s going to be a crucible.”
Lance smiled.
“A crucible that will let us draw the best from the best. A test of not just skill and preparation, but also of stamina and strength. This year’s Conference will be a true challenge, one that tests how trainers pace themselves while balancing the threat of their opponents, and, all the while, they’ll be dealing with the constant pressure of the tournament itself!”
More trainers than ever would compete, and more trainers than ever would fall. Countless people would be forced to face their limits and flaws, but Lance did not expect the best to come from the winners. He expected the best to come from the trainers who fought, lost, witnessed their mistakes, and then strove to correct them.
For his purpose, Lance needed elites, not just the strong. Ace Trainers were called Ace Trainers for a reason, and those were what he’d pull from here.
“This is certainly going to be an interesting tournament,” Morty mused, turning in his chair to check the quiet television in the room.
“It certainly will,” Lance said in reply, amused at Morty’s continued astonishment.
However, as he watched Morty stare at that television, he saw the faintest of grins cross the Gym Leader’s face.
When Morty had spoken, Lance had thought that the Gym Leader was merely interested in how the compressed schedule would influence the tournament. However, now that he was looking, Lance got the strangest sense that Morty was far more interested in witnessing something else.
Or someone else, that is.
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Redi ran down the Conference’s main road, and Silver Town’s air was electric around her. Ever since the season had ended, a festival had been taking place.
Tournaments had been going on. Trainers who had failed to earn all eight badges were given a final chance to compete. Vendors and visitors crowded the streets, and banners of people and Pokémon, past winners and popular trainers, hung prominently in the air.
But today was different. That same celebratory mood from the previous days still filled the city, but it was more infectious than ever. Because, in only a few short minutes, the very first preliminary matches of the Conference would begin.
Hundreds would be held over this weekend, dramatically shaving down the number of participating trainers to an amount more suitable for a large tournament. So many would fail, but so many would make it in.
And just about everyone was desperate to see it all start.
Redi didn’t need to worry about her match just yet because it wasn’t scheduled until later today. However, she was getting frustrated at this point, and for a good reason.
Despite a week having passed, Sam still wasn’t there.
She had run right out of the Conference’s massive, hotel-like Pokémon Center in what was effectively a mad dash. All challengers had been given the chance to stay there for free, with qualified trainers automatically having a room reserved, but Sam hadn’t made an appearance there all week.
So when Redi charged down the main road, passing by the countless stalls and people, she furiously searched for her friend while running right toward where the Conference’s central arena towered over everything else.
Dramatically, Mount Silver itself was an even greater giant that loomed behind it.
“Sam was supposed to be here the second the season was over!” Redi shouted, trying to speak loud enough to have her voice be audible over the bustle of the crowd. “But it’s been a full extra week! He was supposed to be here! I would have thought he’d come early. He would never pass up the chance to spy on people during the smaller tournaments!”
She heard a beeping noise come from behind her—not a proper beep, but a call that sounded like a bird trying to imitate a printer.
Porygon, with their smoothed-over, evolved form, kept close to Redi. They were locked in place only a foot away, and they looked almost just as concerned about Sam.
Some passing trainers sent Porygon curious looks, but Redi all but ignored them. Porygon might have been rare, but she wasn’t hiding them. There were so many other things to look at that she wasn’t worried.
Also, she wanted people to think Porygon was her main Pokémon. Due to Bill’s influence, more and more information about Porygon as a species was being spread around. It’d work better for her team if her first few opponents expected special moves. That would see them be bowled over by the rest of her team’s physical strikes.
Unfortunately, as much as Redi ran, she wasn’t able to find any familiar faces in the crowd. Porygon wasn’t much help, and even the hidden Tibia and Fibula were struggling to do anything with the sheer number of people around them.
But eventually, Redi at least found something, and she skidded to a halt when a strange patch of shadows caught her attention. From within it, gemstone eyes stared out, and a cheshire grin opened up just to fade away into the crowd.
She ran after it.
Shadows curled around and through people’s legs, and Redi ran after them with Porygon desperately trying to keep up behind. The computer-like Pokémon let out almost furious and panicked beeps, but Redi kept up her fast pace all the way until she almost ran right into the person she was only half-expecting to meet.
“Redi?” The familiar woman looked her up and down. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!”
A pair of hands cheerfully clapped together, and a woman with a certain, familial resemblance clasped Redi’s hand for a handshake.
Sam’s mother smiled.
“It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, Mrs. Greyson?” Redi said, dazed and doing her best not to mumble. “Oh! Uh. This is Porygon. Porygon2, specifically. Porygon, this is Mrs. Greyson. She’s Sam’s mom.”
As the woman smiled at her and Porygon, the pink-and-blue Pokémon let out a beeping quack. Behind the woman, that purple shadow from before climbed her clothes, and Sableye perched with his claws on her shoulder, hanging off her arm with a grin.
“It’s nice to meet you as well, Porygon!” Sam’s mother exclaimed without even reacting to Sableye. “And, please, just call me Amanda.”
“Okay. Amanda, then. Do you know where Sam is?” Redi asked quickly.
The woman blinked. A chime went off above their heads. From speakers hidden in poles along the main road, an announcement came on to inform the crowds that the first few preliminary matches were imminent.
“Well,” the woman started, “Sam hasn’t contacted me just yet, and I was heading to the main arena to see if I could find him. How about we head there together, and we can ask around along the way to see if anyone saw him, hm?”
“Sounds good,” Redi said with a sigh.
They started to move off, making their way toward that massive arena complex. They stopped every so often to ask a quick question to the vendors on the sides of the road, talking to the people trying to sell rare and expensive items like battle equipment, training aids, and even the occasional selection of TMs.
“By the way,” Redi said as they moved from one stand to the next. “Does Sam know you’re here?”
She saw the slightest of grins appear on Sam’s mother’s face.
Turned out, part of Sam’s mischievous side was genetic. He wasn’t the only member of his family who appreciated a good trick.
“No,” Amanda said cheekily enough, “he doesn’t know I made plans to show up. I told him that I’d be supporting him from home, but I caught a flight just so I could surprise him here!”
“He really has no idea?”
Amanda’s smile deepened.
“He truly doesn’t.”
They were about to move to the next few stands over, but the eyes of a vendor behind them seemed to linger on Sableye. Something about seeing a Ghost Type made that person suddenly perk up.
“Wait, are you asking about Sam?” the vendor called out, and both Redi and Amanda stopped in place to pay attention. “Do you mean Sam Greyson? The Ghost Type guy? I just talked to him! He’s up first!”
“In the preliminaries?”
Redi rushed over and smacked her hands onto the young vendor’s table, demanding a quick answer. Between them, rows of battle-ready charcoal rattled around, and a Farfetch’d practically sent her a Leer.
“Mm-hm!” the vendor replied quickly and nervously. “He said he was one of the last people to register, so that means he’s up first. Something about the ‘disadvantage’ of less time to prepare?”
“I see. Thank you!”
As fast as she could, Redi turned to rejoin Amanda and leave, and the boy wished them luck as they hurried off. Next to him, a young-looking Growlithe followed that up with a friendly bark that bid them farewell.
With the information the boy provided, Redi wanted to run, but she was forced to stay at a normal pace so as to not leave Sam’s mom behind. Thankfully, they managed to enter the arena building without any trouble. They skipped the line; competitors and the families of competitors were allowed in for free.
Due to coming in so late, they didn’t exactly get a spot close to the arena, but they managed to get a pair of seats about halfway up, set right in front of a railing. The second they moved to sit, a light flashed in front of them, and Delcatty greeted Redi with a polite “Mrow!” before hopping up to lay in Amanda’s lap.
“Phew,” Redi exhaled. “Glad we made it. But, um, if you’re here... Don’t you have a store to manage?”
“I do, but people have known I’d be away for a little while!” Amanda said with a slight laugh. “I called in a favor with a friend—a local Pokémart employee—and he’s watching the place for us while Shuppy and Skully stay on guard.”
Shuppy and Skully?
Oh, the Shuppet and Duskull Sam rescued.
Amanda went on to explain that those two really weren’t fans of large crowds, so they chose to stay at home and support Sam from afar.
“But all of Dewford Town is cheering on Sam!” Amanda continued with a bright smile on her face. “There are always a few people from the island that make it to the Conference each year, but none of them have ever had a family member as well-connected as me!”
She tapped the side of her nose.
“I haven’t just been managing my bookstore. Sam’s journey has been a bit inspirational, and I’ve been taking a handful of other ‘jobs’ off to the side. I might have been talking ears off about just how proud of him I am, and ever since Brawly got a message about him from Chuck, he’s practically been the talk of the town!”
“Wow.” Redi stared out at the arena floor below them and the square of four independent battlefields. “I just have my family and my aunt.”
She couldn’t say her entire town supported her. She couldn’t even say her entire town knew she existed.
But next to her, Sam’s mom clicked her tongue.
“Oh, shush, you,” she said. “Don’t fool yourself. You have me and everyone else you’ve met on your journey for support. I’m sure you’ve made plenty of friends while traveling about, hm?”
From where they were held in her arms, Porygon pushed against Redi’s stomach in agreement. She could tell they were trying to say that they’d support her no matter what.
She laughed at that, feeling a warmth grow in her chest.
“You’re right,” she said. “I do have that. And...”
Her blood was pumping. Her team had made great improvements in the past month. Her sponsorship with Mr. Pokémon was paying dividends—literally, in some cases—and she couldn’t wait to show off all of that in a proper fight.
Also, just because she wasn’t that well-known didn’t mean she was at a disadvantage. Getting people to learn about her was a big part of why she was out here.
Even better, now that she had made it to the Conference, she was in the perfect position to advertise her family’s construction business.
But there wasn’t much more time than that for them to continue their conversation. Referees moved to stand at each of the four fields below. Normally, these arenas would only host one battle at a time, but the place was so large that the League seemed to want multiple battles to take place at once.
Though a referee stood at the side of each field, one head referee stood in the direct center of the floor. The crowd quieted down to listen to his speech. Though his words were meant to mark the start of the preliminaries, Redi and so many others were barely paying attention.
After all, almost all eyes were on the eight competitors making their way out.
Redi could already recognize two of them.
“Look. Look! That’s my son! There’s my Sam!”
Amanda was practically bouncing in her seat.
“I can’t believe it,” Redi said, laughing as two of the trainers took up opposite positions on one of the fields. “Is Sam’s opponent really who I think he is?”
Strutting up to the field opposite to Sam was Edgar, the very same boy who had once won the Beginner’s Tournament just to go on to lose against Sam in Violet City.
As Edgar started to send Sam a few taunts, the head referee continued through his announcements, mostly just sharing the rules for these preliminary matches.
These battles would be three-on-three battles with no switches. Pokémon would stay out until they fainted.
And, rather than an immediate elimination on a loss, competitors would be graded on performance instead.
“Sam is going to crush him,” Redi said, leaning forward and gripping the railing.
Below, the challengers went on to send out their Pokémon.
When Redi saw that Haunter had evolved, she couldn’t hold back her laughter. When Edgar sent out a Pokémon that wasn’t even in its final form, she then laughed even harder.
Sam countered his opponent’s taunts, but Edgar’s expression somehow became even more smug than before. Yet Sam remained confident and calm.
...And that was interesting. Though they had tried to establish a cocky image in Violet City’s tournament, Sam had gone with a simpler outfit this time around. All he wore was a dark purple sweatshirt and some basic, black pants.
Redi could immediately tell that simplicity was his intention; Sam wanted all of the focus to be on his Pokémon rather than himself.
“Let’s do this,” Redi whispered.
Whistles blew.
As soon as the battle started, Gengar rushed his opponent, and a shout from Edgar saw his own Pokémon take a step back. The two Pokémon bounced on their feet, ready for whatever their opponent would do, and Edgar’s Pokémon narrowly avoided a single, testing swipe.
Yet, that preliminary state could not last forever. With a single shout, the Pokémon lunged.
Gengar and Edgar’s Nidorino met in a clash.
And with that, the battle truly picked up. Johto’s Silver Conference, or at least its preliminaries, had finally, officially begun.
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Author Note:
It’s suiting that the Conference starts in Chapter 155. After all, Cyndaquil’s Pokédex number is 155. In a way, we’ve come full circle.
If you want to read more about how the Silver Conference worked in the anime, the Bulbapedia article can be found here.
Pokémon (and people) included in this chapter:
Delcatty
Dragonite
Nidorino
Sableye
Comments
Jazehiah
I'm happy to see that Sam's mom made it in person and that she and Redi get along. If you're looking to scout the competition, a new(er) bug specialist fanfic hit rising stars on RR.
Doctor Xerox
Woo! All caught up in time for the conference. I see practically everyone else already complimented Gengar vs Nidorino, but I loved it enough that it bears repeating lol. Very nice touch.
Matthew D
Damn the Gengar and Nidorino got me good
Retribrutus
You know following canon this could be the match that Ash watches in the first episode of Pokemon just before he goes out on his journey.
Incarnated Whisp
Ah, he's busy right now, but the Silver Conference is a televised event.
CountBrownbear
LOVE that you went with the classic Nidorido vs Gengar! Very much appreciated. Looking forward to seeing if Redi got any new pokemon and if she got ursaring and stantler to evolve.
Steven
Thanks for the chapter and trip down memory lane with the gengar vs nidorino reference from both the start of the anime and start of first gen games
mhaj58
Will Sam Oak be present in the silver conference?
Javier David Aros Nuñez
Love the Nidorino vs Gengar reference
9milli9
I see what you did there with the gengar and nidorino, i approve.
Incarnated Whisp
Personally, I see Lance as the equivalent of a very dragon-themed theatre kid.
