Pokémon: The Battle Ranch Chronicles

"Let me get this straight," Baron Dvořák's cold, authoritative voice sliced through the air. "Mr. Lindenberg, you engaged in a battle without knowing the challenger was affiliated with the Sleeper organization. And by the time you realized the truth, it was already too late."

Baron Dvořák's stern expression showed no trace of empathy. He was here for answers, not excuses. His Gallade stood by his side, its sharp eyes scanning the room, ensuring no lies slipped past.

David shifted uncomfortably, casting a glance at his father before answering. "Yes, sir. The man introduced himself as 'Inkognito,' which in hindsight, should have been a red flag. But, sir, a lot of trainers use odd pseudonyms, so it didn't raise suspicion."

Dvořák's eyes narrowed, but he merely nodded, jotting down something in his notebook with swift, precise strokes. "And how did the battle proceed?"

David recounted the events. "He sent out his Shiftry first. I countered with Conkeldurr, and after a few minutes, I won. Next was his Yanmega, and I took that out too. But then... then he called out Lunatone. And that's when things started to feel... wrong."

Dvořák set his pen down and leaned forward. His gaze was sharp, dissecting every word. "What exactly happened?"

David swallowed, his voice growing tense. "He used Double Team, but... the copies weren't just illusions. They were real. Suddenly, there were multiple Lunatones, all independent. Conkeldurr was exhausted, and I couldn't tell which ones were the original."

Dvořák's gaze flicked over to Jerry, seated in a wheelchair, his arm and head bandaged. "Mr. Hunter, you were the referee. What's your account of this battle?"

Jerry forced a grim smile, his eyes shadowed with lingering pain. "When Conkeldurr fell, I told David to switch Pokémon. But... the challenger... the Sleeper started chanting in some strange language. David couldn't recall his Pokémon. I tried to intervene, but then one of the Lunatones... hit me. Iron Head, I think."

Jerry paused, his face darkening. "After that... I don't remember..."

"And then you lost consciousness?" Dvořák pressed.

Jerry shrugged, wincing at the memory. "Yeah. I was down. Total black-out."

Dvořák turned his penetrating gaze back to David. "Can you confirm?"

David nodded. "Lunatone's attack sent Jerry flying. He hit the ground and was out cold. The Sleeper then turned on me, sending wave after wave of Lunatones. I tried to hold them off with Electrode, but... I didn't last long."

"And you also blacked out," Dvořák said, making another note. "Yet you claim you saw Mr. Prochazka arrive?"

"I did," David said, his voice softer. "Before everything went dark, I saw Frank appear on the battlefield."

Baron Dvořák snapped his gaze to Frank, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Prochazka, how did you know there was trouble? You were supposed to be stationed in the western part of the forest according to records from Ranger's Office. Who gave you the authority to change your post?"

The tension in the room thickened. Frank's fists clenched, his jaw tight. "Excuse me, sir? My brother-in-law was fighting for his life, and you're questioning my work ethic?"

Dvořák raised a hand, his tone even, but icy. "I assure you, Mr. Prochazka, this is not personal. My duty is to evaluate whether this facility is prepared to handle dangerous situations. How you handled this incident directly impacts my assessment. Now, answer the question. Why did you leave your post?"

The room was silent, the weight of the question heavy. Frank glared at Dvořák, clearly biting back anger. "Girafarig teleported me. It sensed the danger and brought me to David."

"How did it know what was happening?" Dvořák asked, unmoved by Frank's emotion.

Joe spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension. "We think Girafarig was grazing near the battlefield when it sensed the battle turning dangerous."

Dvořák's eyes narrowed, unsatisfied. "You think? I want facts, not assumptions."

"We don't have surveillance as the ranch is too vast. It was pure luck Girafarig was nearby," Joe answered tersely, feeling the frustration rising in the room.

Dvořák made another note before addressing Frank again. "So, Girafarig brought you here. You then engaged the assassin with Quaquaval, Mightyena, and Houndstone. I will need detailed specifications of those Pokémon for my report."

Frank and David exchanged confused looks. "The specs are in the Pokémon Center's system," David said, puzzled. "You can check them anytime."

Dvořák's gaze sharpened. "And your wife, Mrs. Prochazka, manages that center, correct?"

Frank's temper flared. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Please answer the question." Dvořák's voice remained emotionless, his posture rigid. "Or we can reschedule this for another day."

The entire room bristled with tension. Frank gritted his teeth but Joe answered for him. "Yes. Rachel manages the center."

"Good. Our technician will verify the Pokémon data. Now, moving on," Dvořák continued, ignoring the growing frustration in the room, "according to the report, you had support from Mrs. Lindenberg's Pokémon. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Frank muttered.

Dvořák turned to Eva, who looked nervous. "Mrs. Lindenberg, why and how did you send your Pokémon to aid your brother?"

"I..." Eva stammered, "I didn't."

Dvořák raised his voice slightly, his eyes boring into her. "The report you submitted to me states otherwise. Explain yourself."

"My son sent them," Eva blurted.

Dvořák glanced at Gallade, who gave no signal of deceit. "Explain."

Eva, her voice shaking, answered. "Jake—Jakub—had some kind of... episode. He collapsed, and when he woke, he said he could hear Girafarig. Then he touched my Decidueye, and she flew off with Swanna."

"You let them go without investigating? Do you not control your own Pokémon?"

Eva was sweating, flustered. "My son just had a seizure! I wasn't thinking about the Pokémon—I was trying to make sure Jake was okay!"

Joe cut in again. "Sir, Jakey has a gift. Our family's known for having a unique connection with Pokémon. Jakey's inherited that ability."

Dvořák made no comment, writing down more notes with a sharp flourish before turning back to Frank. "How did you stop the assassin?"

Frank took a long breath, his voice rough with exhaustion. "I... I instructed my Pokémon to attack his Lunatones, and—"

"Yes. And more and more Lunatones kept appearing. I read that. What did you do?" Baron Dvořák's voice was steady, almost clinical, as he eyed Frank with growing suspicion.

Frank's jaw clenched as he recounted the battle. "I fought from one side while Decidueye and Swanna flanked from the other. We coordinated our attacks, and, luckily, Hurricane and Hydro Cannon created a diversion. It gave me a brief opening."

Dvořák raised an eyebrow. "Me? So, you took it upon yourself to engage in combat?"

"Yes."

"And why is that, Mr. Prochazka?"

Frank hesitated, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Because no matter what our Pokémon did, more Lunatones kept coming. I knew they were tied to the Sleeper. There was no other way."

Dvořák leaned in slightly, pressing the point. "How did you know that, Mr. Prochazka? What made you so certain?"

Frank frowned, the memory gnawing at him. He had acted on instinct, but explaining that to this stone-faced investigator was proving difficult. "I've seen things in the wilderness... things that don't make sense on paper. You can read all the reports you want, but out there, when your gut speaks to you, you follow it."

Dvořák sighed, clearly unimpressed. "Mr. Prochazka, I asked for evidence, not feelings. How did you know attacking the assassin would disrupt the Lunatones' control?"

Frank ground his teeth, his fists balling up. "I didn't! I didn't know it would work, okay?"

"Understood," Dvořák responded coldly, jotting down more notes. The sound of the pen scratching against paper only made the silence in the room more oppressive.

The tension was palpable. Minutes passed, broken only by Dvořák's methodical scribbling. Everyone's nerves were on edge.

Finally, Dvořák spoke again. "How did you stop him?"

"Excuse me?" Frank's voice was tight.

"I asked you, how did you stop the assassin? The report says you attacked him. I want the full details."

Frank's gaze flickered around the room. His palms were sweating, and his heart pounded in his chest. He had killed a man. Admitting that in front of a royal official—despite the justification—was not something he was eager to do.

"Well?" Dvořák pressed, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Sir... you have to understand... I had to stop him."

Dvořák nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes, Mr. Prochazka. I understand that. But how?"

Frank hesitated, his eyes shifting to his family, then back to Dvořák. He didn't want to relive the moment, but Dvořák wasn't going to back down. The Baron's eyes gleamed with cold anticipation, as though he already knew what happened but needed to hear it directly from Frank's lips.

Just as the silence became unbearable, Dvořák turned to his two guards. "Leave the room," he ordered.

The guards exchanged puzzled glances. One, the younger of the two, spoke up. "But sir, protocol—"

"I am aware of protocol," Dvořák interrupted, his tone sharp. "Now, outside. I won't ask again."

The guards stiffened and exchanged a final, uneasy look before saluting. "Sir!" they barked, and exited the room.

As the door clicked shut, Dvořák turned back to the family. His Gallade stood motionless beside him, a silent, looming presence. "I assume this room is secure against eavesdropping and other forms of surveillance?"

Joe frowned, confused. "No, not specifically. Why?"

"Gallade, ensure we're clear," Dvořák commanded. His Gallade's eyes flared with a deep, eerie glow for several seconds. A tense silence hung in the air before the psychic Pokémon nodded, confirming the room was now secure.

"Good." Dvořák leaned back in his chair. "Listen to me, Mr. Prochazka. If you don't tell me the truth, I won't be able to recommend this place for the prince's visit. And I assure you, the consequences of that could be severe."

"The truth?" Frank scoffed darkly, though his eyes betrayed his anxiety.

"Yes, the truth," Dvořák said with an unnerving calm. "I'm not interested in incriminating you. I need the facts. You think I sent my guards outside to intimidate you? No. I did it so we can speak openly. I don't care about how it looks—self-defense is a part of the law. And as a royal official I understand the need to step outside the law. Now, tell me what happened."

Frank gulped, his mind racing. He knew Dvořák wasn't here to arrest him, but still, the weight of the moment pressed down on him. "You really think I want to relive that?"

"Mr. Prochazka," Dvořák said, locking eyes with Frank, "I've dealt with worse. But I need to know exactly what you did. Otherwise, I cannot assess the security here. Do you understand?"

There was a long pause. Frank's eyes met Dvořák's in a tense standoff, but the Baron's unflinching gaze eventually wore him down. He looked away, defeated.

"Fine," Frank finally breathed out, the words spilling from him. "I tried to beat him down with my fists, but nothing worked. When Joe arrived and cleared the field of Lunatones, I ordered Girafarig to use Crunch."

Dvořák's gaze darkened slightly, as if he'd already suspected the truth. "Decapitation?"

Frank nodded grimly, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Dvořák didn't flinch, nor did he write anything down. Instead, he merely nodded, acknowledging the brutal necessity.

"Thank you for your honesty. I know that was difficult to admit," Dvořák said, his tone softening for the first time. "Now, where's the body?"

Frank's mouth twisted into a bitter sneer. Joe answered for him. "There is no body. A portal opened beneath the corpse, and it was... taken."

"A portal?" Dvořák's frown deepened.

"Yes," David cut in, his voice strained. "I know how bad this looks, but believe us, we can ensure the safety of the prince—"

"Mr. Lindenberg," Dvořák cut him off sharply, "I do not doubt your intentions. However, intentions are not enough. You were sloppy."

David blinked in surprise as Dvořák's sudden criticism hit like a slap. "Sloppy?"

"Yes, sloppy. You mentioned only Conkeldurr and Electrode. Where were your other Pokémon? Why didn't you use them? You're a Frontier Brain—yet you were outmatched in your own home." Dvořák's voice grew harsher with each word. "You of all people should be prepared. You've served as a special agent, haven't you? And yet, here, you were caught off guard with only two active Pokémon."

David's face flushed with embarrassment. "Sir, I think—"

"No," Dvořák interrupted again, not giving him a chance to defend himself. "You didn't think. And that lack of preparation almost got someone killed. If you don't start thinking like a Frontier Brain should, I will inform the League of your incompetence."

The silence in the room was thick and heavy. Dvořák's words hung in the air like a blade. David, usually calm and collected, found himself at a loss for words.

Joe stepped in, his voice laced with frustration. "He was taken by surprise, Baron. You can't expect him to be on high alert all the time."

Dvořák's gaze snapped to Joe. "Then he's not fit for the position. How can a man, who worked as a field agent for the League, not anticipate danger, even in his own home?"

David's lips trembled, but he forced the words out. "I didn't expect... there'd be danger here."

Dvořák nodded, finally hearing an answer that satisfied him. "There it is. A false sense of security. If you can shed that mindset, I have no further questions. But until you do, I will not recommend this location for the prince's visit. Think on that."

With those words, the Baron rose to leave, his Gallade following close behind. The room remained still, the gravity of his words pressing down on everyone left behind.

Baron Dvořák paused at the door, his silhouette sharp against the dim light of the hallway. His voice was low but carried an unmistakable authority. "We've already placed several of our people within your facility. If their reports confirm that you are all taking things seriously, keeping your Pokémon on hand and ready to engage in combat at any moment, then there will be no problem with the prince's visit. I hope I have made myself clear. Do not fail me."

With that, he exited the room, the sound of the door closing behind him as final as a judge's gavel.

A collective breath was released, as if the room itself had been holding its air. The weight of Dvořák's presence had been suffocating, and now, with him gone, relief washed over everyone, though it was tinged with lingering tension.

David stood by the window, his arms crossed, staring into the fading daylight. He was still reeling from the verbal lashing, his pride bruised. Joe, his father, approached him carefully, his tone gentle but firm.

"David, I'm sorry," Joe began, choosing his words with care. "But I have to admit... there's some truth in what Dvořák said. Why didn't you bring Meganium or Ambipom with you? We all know they could have turned the tide."

David's eyes narrowed, frustration boiling over. "I know, Dad. I don't need you piling on. Not now," he said, his voice rough with self-reproach. "I already screwed up. You don't think I've been thinking about that since the fight?"

Joe's expression softened. He could see the pain in his son's eyes, the weight of the responsibility David bore as a Frontier Brain, now made heavier by this mistake. But Joe wasn't about to let this go. Not after what they'd just survived.

"We've all gotten complacent," Joe continued, turning to face the rest of the room. His eyes swept over the group—nearly twenty family members, senior trainers, and assistants—all equally stunned by the Baron's ruthless assessment. Some stared at the floor, while others exchanged uneasy glances.

"You know, it's not just David. We've all let our Pokémon roam freely, without keeping them close when we should've been on guard," Joe said, his voice gaining strength. "Including me. But after what happened today, we can't afford to make that mistake again. We need to carry our full teams, at all times."

Heads nodded slowly around the room, the gravity of Joe's words sinking in. The idea wasn't foreign to them, but it was a sharp break from their usual relaxed way of life here at the estate, where Pokémon roamed freely without the constant threat of danger.

"Look," Joe continued, his voice growing more urgent, "I know it's a change, and none of us like it. But we've seen what happens when we're unprepared. If we want this visit to go off without a hitch, we need to be ready for anything. After the prince leaves, we can relax. But until then, we're on high alert."

Before Joe could finish, his phone buzzed in his pocket, the sound cutting through the heavy air. He glanced at the screen. It was Radim, the Count von Lindenberg, head of the house.

"Radim," Joe answered, his tone cautious. "What's going on?"

"Joe!" Radim's voice was unusually upbeat on the other end. "I just heard the meeting went well."

Joe's brow furrowed, his grip tightening on the phone. "Are you serious? You and I have probably different ideas what 'well' means."

"Well," Radim continued, a hint of confusion creeping into his tone, "Baron Dvořák just contacted me. He asked to schedule another meeting with you next week. He even mentioned how satisfied he was with your responses. I assumed that meant everything was under control."

Joe blinked, momentarily at a loss. "Satisfied? Under control?? Did we have the same conversation? The man practically tore us apart."

"Well, he is something like Darth Vader for our kingdom."

"What?" Joe asked, not understanding that reference.

Radim chuckled softly. "Dvořák's not known for his kindness, Joe. He thinks fast, he acts fast and he is very efficient. But if he's asking for a follow-up, that's a good sign. It means we are on the right track."

Joe shook his head, still reeling from the exchange. "A week. You're telling me we have one week to get this right?"

"Exactly," Radim said, more serious now. "He'll be back, and he'll be expecting to see improvements. So whatever you need to do, make sure it's done by then. Dvořák might be giving you a second chance, but he won't give a third. You understand?"

Joe let out a long breath, the weight of the task ahead settling over him. "Yeah, I get it."

"Good. I'll be in touch," Radim finished, and the call ended.

As Joe slid the phone back into his pocket, he could feel the eyes of the room on him, waiting for direction. David still stood by the window, silent and withdrawn, while the rest of the group exchanged nervous glances.

Joe straightened his shoulders. "Alright, everyone, listen. We have one week to prove we can handle this. No mistakes. No slip-ups. Full teams with us at all times. Let's get ready."

The room stirred to life, the weight of the task ahead igniting a new sense of urgency. The complacency that had once settled over the estate like a comfortable blanket was now gone, replaced by the cold, sharp edge of impending danger.

David turned from the window, his expression hardened, his earlier frustration now tempered by resolve. "Okay, I won't make the same mistake twice," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Joe placed a hand on his son's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We're in this together, David. We all are. Let's make sure we're ready for whatever comes next."

The room buzzed with activity as everyone began preparing, the memory of Dvořák's chilling words lingering like a shadow over them. They knew the stakes. The visit wasn't just a royal formality anymore—it was a test. One they couldn't afford to fail.

The week flew by in a whirlwind of preparation, and before anyone was truly ready, Baron Dvořák had returned to the estate. His presence was just as commanding as before, but this time, the air in the room was different—tenser, but more focused.

The meeting this time was brisk, almost clinical. Dvořák wasted no time with pleasantries, cutting straight to the point.

"Listen, everybody," he said, his eyes sweeping the room with cold precision. "Our interns have informed me that you've begun carrying your Pokémon with you at all times. That's a good start." His gaze flickered towards David, who stood tall but apprehensive. "Just for your information, I don't expect you to be the first line of defense should any threat arise during the prince's visit. That's what the royal guards are for. Your job is to assist and ensure the situation doesn't spiral out of control."

David nodded silently, his jaw tight. He had spent the past week honing his team, training relentlessly with them, pushing them harder than ever before. But despite his readiness, Dvořák's reminder that they weren't expected to handle everything alone was both a relief and a bruise to his pride.

Baron Dvořák turned fully to face him now, his steely eyes narrowing. "Mr. Lindenberg, during the week, we sent two challengers to test your abilities discreetly. You've proven capable. The results were... acceptable."

David exhaled quietly. His battles with those 'challengers' had been intense, more than he'd expected. He had suspected they were more than simple trainers, but now Dvořák had confirmed it. Those battles had been a test—a silent evaluation of his strength.

Joe, standing beside David, couldn't contain his curiosity. "Sir, does that mean...?"

Dvořák barely glanced at him before answering, his voice brisk. "Yes. Be on guard. Tomorrow, the course for Prince Charles will begin."

"Tomorrow?" Joe's voice cracked with disbelief, echoing the shock that swept through the room. "TOMORROW??"

A ripple of unease spread through the group. People exchanged nervous looks, and whispers of confusion began to rise. For weeks, they had anticipated the visit, but the suddenness of the timeline caught everyone off guard.

Baron Dvořák, however, was not one to tolerate disorder. He raised a hand, and the room fell silent immediately under his command. His expression was unwavering, eyes sharp as steel. "There will be no panic," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the growing tension like a blade. "We have prepared for this. You have been briefed. You will do your jobs, and everything will proceed as planned."

He turned to his subordinates, speaking with the crisp efficiency of a military officer. "Assignments are as follows: You two," he pointed to two uniformed guards standing at attention, "coordinate the perimeter with the estate's rangers. I want every entry point covered and every guard rotation seamless. No gaps in the schedule. The prince's safety is paramount."

The two guards saluted sharply before heading off to carry out their orders. Dvořák then shifted his focus back to Joe and David, his demeanor softening only slightly, but still all business.

"Now," he began, gesturing for the Lindenbergs to approach, "we need to go over the finer details for tomorrow's event. The prince's course will take him through several key locations on the estate. There will be public appearances, of course, but also moments where he'll be in more isolated areas for security reasons. You'll need to ensure everything runs smoothly. No surprises."

Joe nodded, still reeling from the abrupt timeline, but determined. "We'll make sure everything's set. You have my word."

Dvořák's gaze lingered on Joe for a moment, then moved to David. "I expect the Frontier Brain to be on alert at all times. Your role is critical, Mr. Lindenberg. Don't lose sight of that. If the prince faces any challenge, it will fall to you to engage as well. I trust your team is up to the task."

David met Dvořák's gaze squarely, his nerves steadied by the weight of the week's preparation. "We're ready," he said firmly. "Whatever happens, we'll handle it."

Dvořák gave a brief nod, as close to approval as he ever gave. "Good. We'll discuss more details in the morning, but for now, make sure everyone knows their role. No one can afford to be out of sync."

As the Baron turned to leave, the room once again fell into a hum of activity. People began moving with purpose, gathering supplies, coordinating plans, and triple-checking Pokémon teams. Joe and David remained at the center of it all, absorbing the urgency of the moment.

Joe placed a hand on David's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's really happening," Joe said, his voice carrying both awe and anxiety. "We've got to make sure everything's perfect."

David nodded, his mind racing through the strategy he'd been developing for the last week. "It will be," he said, though he felt the pressure mounting with every second. "We don't have any other choice."

Joe smiled faintly. "Let's just hope we don't need to find out what happens if things don't go according to plan."

David glanced at his Pokéballs clipped to his belt. His team was strong, well-trained, and bonded to him. But as always, the uncertainty of the future gnawed at him. Tomorrow was no ordinary day—it was a test of everything they'd built, not just for him as a Frontier Brain, but for the entire family.

Tomorrow, the prince was coming, and they had to be ready for whatever the day would bring.

The morning of Prince Charles' arrival was filled with a quiet tension. The sun cast a golden hue over the Battle Ranch, painting the landscape in warm light, as the estate bustled with last-minute preparations. Joe, David, and the others gathered outside, waiting anxiously. Baron Dvořák stood at the forefront, as composed and unyielding as ever.

The baron stepped forward and addressed the group. His voice, though measured, carried the weight of protocol and expectation.

"Everyone, listen closely. His Highness, Prince Charles, will be arriving shortly. Remember the rules of engagement. You do not speak first. The prince will initiate conversation. For the men, you will shake his hand and bow your head slightly. For the ladies, you will also shake his hand and make a curtsy. This is a formal occasion, but the prince prefers a civil atmosphere. Treat him with respect, but don't make him uncomfortable with excessive formality."

There was a collective nod from the gathered group as Dvořák scanned their faces. Each person seemed to take a deep breath, mentally preparing for the arrival of royalty.

Moments later, the distant hum of engines could be heard, signaling the arrival of the prince's convoy. A sleek black car, followed by several other vehicles, came into view. The convoy glided to a stop in front of the gathered group, and the tension in the air thickened.

The door of the lead vehicle opened, and Prince Charles stepped out, accompanied by his attendants. At twelve years old, Charles had a poised yet approachable demeanor. Despite the layers of formal training and royal protocol ingrained in him from birth, his casual stride and warm smile immediately set a more relaxed tone. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of youthful curiosity and the seriousness that came with his responsibilities.

Dressed in a crisp navy blazer, grey trousers, and polished shoes, Charles cut an elegant figure without appearing stiff. His sandy-blonde hair, tousled just enough to hint at his distaste for overly meticulous grooming, framed his expressive face. His keen blue eyes scanned the group, assessing the situation with surprising maturity, yet there was a boyish excitement in his gaze—especially when it lingered on the Pokémon scattered around the ranch.

Charles loved Pokémon, particularly Dragon-types, which filled the courts of his home, but his royal obligations rarely allowed him time to fully immerse himself in the world of battling. The sight of the powerful creatures on the ranch, even from a distance, stirred something within him. This visit was more than just a royal duty; it was a glimpse into a life of freedom he often longed for.

Baron Dvořák stepped forward to introduce the family.

"His Royal Highness, Charles Ferdinand Boleslav William Sigismund, thirty-seventh Duke of High-Castle and Prince of Olmütz," one of the guards loudly announced the presence of prince.

"Your Highness," Dvořák began, his voice firm, "may I present Mr. Joseph Lindenberg, head of the Battle Ranch."

Joe, as instructed, stepped forward, shook the prince's hand firmly, and bowed his head. "It is an honor to welcome you to our home, Your Highness," Joe said, his voice steady.

Charles smiled warmly. "Thank you, Mr. Lindenberg. I've heard much about this place and the role it plays in raising and training exceptional Pokémon. I'm looking forward to seeing it firsthand."

Next, Dvořák introduced Joe's wife. "This is Mrs. Anna Lindenberg, your gracious hostess for the day."

Anna curtsied gracefully as she took Charles' hand. "Welcome, Your Highness," she said with a soft smile.

Charles responded with a nod. "Thank you, Mrs. Lindenberg. The estate is beautiful, I can see where the Pokémon get their strength from."

Dvořák then turned to David. "Your Highness, may I introduce Mr. David Lindenberg, the current Battle Frontier Brain."

Charles' eyes brightened, and his smile widened as David stepped forward. He shook David's hand with a firm grip and a sense of admiration in his voice. "Mr. Lindenberg, I've read about your work as a special agent for the Pokémon League. It's an honor to meet someone who has done so much our kingdom and our people."

David, slightly taken aback by the prince's knowledge, bowed his head respectfully. "The honor is mine, Your Highness. I'm humbled by your interest."

Charles glanced at the Pokéballs clipped to David's belt, a flicker of excitement flashing in his eyes. "I hope I can see your team in action while I'm here. I've heard about your battles as a Frontier Brain."

David smiled, appreciating the prince's genuine enthusiasm. "We'd be happy to show you, Your Highness."

Dvořák continued, introducing David's wife next. "And this is Mrs. Eva Lindenberg, David's wife and local junior professor, and their son, Jakub."

Eva curtsied as she shook the prince's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," she said, her voice warm but little shaken. Unlike her in-laws who were from noble Lindenberg family, she was firstly in presence of such high-born person.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lindenberg," Charles replied, his tone polite but slightly more formal as he greeted her. When he shook Jake's hand, however, his demeanor softened again. "Hello, Jake," he said, crouching slightly to meet the young boy's eyes. "I hope you're keeping your father on his toes," he added with a wink.

Jake smiled shyly, nodding. "Yes, Your Highness," he replied, clearly in awe of meeting the prince.

The introductions continued as Dvořák brought forward more of the ranch's key staff. "Your Highness, this is Mr. Frank Prochazka, Pokémon Ranger, and his wife, Rachel, who manages the ranch's Pokémon Center."

Frank and Rachel both greeted the prince with the expected formality, but Charles' gaze lingered on Frank a moment longer. "A Pokémon Ranger? That's an impressive role. I've heard you handle some of the more dangerous situations around here."

Frank nodded. "It comes with the territory, Your Highness. We're just doing our part to keep the ranch, the town and the surrounding areas safe."

Charles smiled again, appreciating the humility in Frank's response. "Thank you for your service, Mr. Prochazka. It's people like you who keep our beautiful kingdom running smoothly."

Once the introductions were completed, Baron Dvořák took a step back, allowing Prince Charles to address the gathered group as a whole. His voice was clear and confident, a testament to his upbringing, yet there was a warmth in it that immediately put everyone at ease.

"Thank you all for the warm welcome," Charles began, his eyes sweeping the crowd. "It's a privilege to be here, and I look forward to learning from each of you during my time on the ranch. Pokémon are a passion of mine, and though my duties don't always allow me to spend as much time with them as I'd like, I hope this visit gives me a chance to understand your world better. I'm particularly excited to see the work you do here with such a diverse range of Pokémon."

The prince's sincerity resonated with everyone in the crowd. As he spoke, the formality of the occasion seemed to melt away, replaced by a genuine connection between the prince and the people of the ranch. It was clear that despite his royal duties, Charles was still a boy at heart—one who longed to spend time with Pokémon, to battle, and to experience the world beyond the walls of the palace.

As the formal introductions concluded, Baron Dvořák motioned to Prince Charles, signaling that it was time for him to retire to his accommodation. The prince nodded politely to the group, offering one last warm smile before turning to follow the baron.

The group watched as they walked away, but as soon as Charles and Dvořák were out of earshot, whispers started to spread amongst the gathered family members. Joe leaned over to David, speaking quietly.

"Did you notice how many people came with him?" Joe asked, his eyes flickering to the large contingent of royal guards that had arrived with the prince.

David nodded. "More than I expected, that's for sure. And the guards… they're everywhere."

Indeed, there were far more people than anyone had anticipated. Dozens of staff members were helping with logistics, and a small army of royal guards was stationed throughout the ranch, some of them maintaining a low profile while others stood in full view, their watchful eyes scanning the surroundings.

As they stood there, Jake tugged at his uncle Frank's sleeve. "Uncle Frank, why is everyone so nervous about the guards? They don't look that scary."

Frank chuckled softly, resting a hand on Jake's shoulder. "Well, they might not look scary, Jake, but trust me, they're some of the most exceptional trainers out there. Most of these guards could probably take on an Elite Four member and win."

Jake's eyes widened in amazement. "Really? But how come they're not famous like the Elite Four or Champions?"

Frank paused, thinking about how to best explain. "That's the thing, Jake. Their true power is rarely revealed to the public. They're not here for fame. They're here to protect the prince and the royal family, and that means they don't need to show off their skills in big tournaments or battles. But don't be surprised if some of them are stronger than even Champions."

Rachel joined the conversation, smiling as she added, "I think it's better that way, Jake. Some people love training Pokémon but don't want the public attention that comes with being a famous trainer. It's the perfect job for people who prefer staying out of the spotlight."

Jake looked from his uncle to his aunt, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of such strong trainers keeping their abilities a secret. "I guess that makes sense," he murmured, still in awe.

At that moment, Eva approached them, looking slightly out of place amidst the fading formality of the day. She had chosen not to be part of the smaller evening group that would meet and dine with the prince.

"Hi, you three," she greeted, her tone lighter now that the formalities were over.

"Hey girl," Rachel grinned and joked. "We were just about to head home. Want to join us for dinner? It'll be a nice break from all the royal commotion. Just us, common, dirty and dumb peasants."

Eva hesitated for a moment, glancing down at Jake. "You know, that actually sounds wonderful. We'd love to."

With the plan settled, the Prochazka family, along with Eva and Jake, made their way to Frank and Rachel's cozy home within the ranch's territory. By the time they arrived, the evening sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow over the ranch.

Inside the house, they were greeted by a cheerful scene. Monika, Frank and Rachel's daughter, was sitting on the floor with Jake's Charmander and Frank's Mightyena, Summer, playing a small game that involved rolling a ball between the three of them. Charmander chased the ball with enthusiasm while Summer kept a dignified yet amused watch over the playful little Pokémon.

Monika looked up as they entered, her face lighting up. "Hey, everyone! You missed a lot of fun," she teased, laughing as Charmander tumbled over trying to catch the ball. "Jake, I promised I'd take care of Charmander, and he's been having a blast."

Jake grinned, happy to see his Charmander in good spirits. "Thanks, Moni! Looks like he's in good hands."

As everyone settled into the living room, the conversation naturally drifted toward the events of the day.

"So, what did you all think of the prince?" Frank asked, his curiosity evident.

Rachel nodded, leaning back in her chair. "Honestly, I was expecting some trouble with Baron Dvořák's reputation. But everything went smoothly. The prince is far more charismatic than I imagined."

Eva agreed. "Yes, I was a bit worried at first. I thought with all the guards and the formality, it would feel stiff and uncomfortable. But Prince Charles has this way of putting people at ease. He seems genuinely interested in learning about everything, especially the Pokémon."

"He took a liking to Dave, too," Frank added with a smile. "You could see it in his face. He looks like he respects Dave's as a Frontier Brain, and he probably knows about his work as a special agent for the League."

Rachel raised an eyebrow, impressed. "That's good news. If the prince has taken a liking to him, it could open up something for his future."

Jake, sitting next to Monika and now holding his Charmander, looked up curiously. "Do you think the prince can help Dad with the stuff Ramses said?"

Frank smiled warmly at his nephew. "You know, Jake, I think he might. Prince Charles may be young, but he has influence. He's smart, and he knows how to make things happen. And if he's impressed with David, who knows? This could be the start of something really good for the ranch—and for your father."

Rachel shrugged her shoulders, glancing at Eva. "I don't know... He seems young. But that could be a good thing."

Eva smiled softly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Maybe the future really is starting to look brighter. With someone like Prince Charles in our corner, that Sleepers' stuff could be really avoided..."

As the conversation continued into the evening, the family shared stories, laughter, and a sense of optimism. The weight of the royal visit had been lifted, and in its place, there was a new feeling of excitement—one that hinted at a brighter future for them all. The day had gone better than anyone expected, and the prince's arrival had brought with it the promise of new beginnings.

With the peaceful hum of the evening settling around them, they knew that this was just the beginning of something much bigger. And as they sat together, they couldn't help but feel that, for once, the future looked full of possibilities.