Reborn in Pokemon With Dragon System

Lilia's Point of View

They called for me early this morning. Lady Yua, still brushing her son's hair from last night's family dinner, gave a quiet sigh and simply said, "He's wandered off again. Could you...?"

I nodded before she even finished the sentence.

Of course I would. I always do.

He doesn't go far—he never does—but he drifts. Always to the same place. The edge of the estate where the great trees begin to tangle, where the sunlight peeks through the canopy in streams of light and warmth. It's quiet there. Peaceful.

But that's not why he goes.

No... I know why.

I reached the clearing just a few minutes later, and there he was—lying flat on his back in the grass like the world owed him nothing and gave him everything. One leg crossed lazily over the other, hands behind his head, face tilted up toward the sky. To anyone else, he looked like a carefree child lost in a nap, or perhaps a wild daydream.

But I know him too well.

Far too well.

He hides it now—better than most adults. That deep current of energy inside him is masked so well even a half-decent aura reader would call him "calm." But it's not gone. It's never gone. It's simply... folded. Tucked away beneath layers of self-control and feigned innocence.

He even hides it from me sometimes.

But not always.

Lately, I've seen the signs. The subtle tension in his shoulders when he passes a training courtyard. The way his gaze lingers just a little too long when a wild Pokémon flutters near the edge of the trees. And the questions—so many questions—about the Pokémon around the estate. Their habits. Their reactions. Their strength.

It's clear what he wants.

He wants out.

Not to escape. Not to run away.

To train.

To grow.

To become something more than a child wrapped in silk and protection.

His mother and grandmother... they mean well. They love him fiercely. But their love comes with walls. With barriers built from fear and protection. And I understand it—gods, I do—but that doesn't make it right.

We had words about it.

A serious conversation.

I told them plainly:

If you continue to confine him like this, you will not protect his future. You will poison it. You will stunt his growth. And one day, you'll watch him break the cage himself—and it will not be gentle.

They heard me. Whether they'll listen, I don't yet know.

But I see it now more clearly than ever.

He still hadn't noticed me—or sensed me, rather. Normally he would have. These days his perception is razor-sharp, sometimes sharper than trainers I've met who've been working with Pokémon for over a decade. I've tested him before—cloaked myself in psychic folds, slipped through the gardens like a whisper.

He still caught me.

But this time? He didn't.

Or maybe... he let me come closer.

Because as I took another step and the grass crunched gently underfoot, his eyes flicked toward me—slowly, smoothly—and locked onto mine.

And in that moment, everything fell into place.

I saw it.

I finally saw it.

That thing I'd only glimpsed in flashes, hints, and fragments over the years. That glimmer I could never name.

But now?

Now I understand.

It was hunger.

Not the kind born from empty stomachs.

Not the kind fed with berries and milk.

The kind that burns behind the eyes and sharpens over time.

A hunger for strength.

Real strength. Earned strength. The kind you fight for in the dark when no one is watching.

And he has it.

He has it burning inside him like a forge.

And the forest is calling to him—just like it once called to me.

He's ready.

But the question is...

Will they let him go?

Or will he carve the path himself?

John's Point of View

I blinked up at Lilia as she stepped into the clearing fully, the morning sun catching the pale strands of her hair and making them glow like silver thread. She didn't even try to hide her smile.

I sat up with a groan, brushing grass off my tunic, and scowled at her teasing expression.

She raised a brow. "Finished sulking?"

"Wasn't sulking," I muttered. "I was thinking."

Her grin got wider.

I huffed and crossed my arms. "I'm going to convince Mom and Grandma to let me go to the forest, you know. Even if I have to use my strongest method to do it."

"Oh?" She tilted her head in mock-innocence. "And what method would that be, Young Master?"

I gave her a wicked grin. "No more cuddles."

For a second she blinked. Then she burst out laughing. Actual, honest, can't-breathe laughter that made the leaves shake with the sound.

When she could finally talk again, she wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head. "So cruel. You realize that would break them, right? Your poor mother and grandmother... cut off from their most addictive vice."

"That's the plan," I said smugly.

She snorted. "Well, I suppose that would mean I get more time doing so, since I'm on your side of this plan."

I tried to keep a straight face. I really did. But I cracked, and soon I was laughing too.

Before I could recover, she swooped in and ruffled my hair mercilessly, long strands falling across my eyes as I squawked in protest.

"Liliaaa—!"

"Shh, shh," she cooed, fingers already sliding into the roots of my hair in that way that made my brain shut off. "There's my good boy."

I gave up instantly, melting into the sensation. It was my dirty little secret, how easily I folded under this. My posture slumped. My eyes closed. I even let out an embarrassing little purr.

She just laughed again, quieter this time.

After a moment, she leaned down so her voice was right by my ear. "You know even if they agree, you'll have limitations, right? Or Pokémon watching your every move in the forest?"

I cracked one eye open and gave a lazy smile. "That's fine. I have nothing to hide. Besides..." I yawned deliberately. "You know me. I can bribe Pokémon better than anyone else."

Her laughter bubbled up again. "Yes. That's your thing, isn't it, my little master? Making everyone fall for you."

"...Works on you," I mumbled into her palm.

"Guilty," she admitted cheerfully, still playing with my hair.

We sat like that for another minute before she sighed and straightened up. She gently grabbed my hand and tugged.

"Alright, that's enough scheming. Time for breakfast. They made your favorite today, young master."

My eyes lit up immediately. "Really?"

She nodded solemnly. "Really. So let's go."

She didn't even let me stand up on my own. She hauled me out of the grass like I was a sack of Oran Berries, holding me under one arm while her other hand kept playing with my hair.

"Hey—!" I squirmed halfheartedly.

"This," she informed me primly, "is my payment for keeping your little blackmail strategy against your poor mother and grandmother a secret."

"That's fine," I mumbled, my resistance already fading as her fingers found that spot behind my ear that turned me into mush.

"Good boy."

We left the clearing like that, the morning air cool and the path winding gently back toward the grand food hall reserved for the main family.

My stomach rumbled in anticipation.

I might be planning blackmail.

I might be planning to train in the wild.

I might be ready to defy the entire estate.

But first?

Breakfast.