The moment Ron caught the sword in his hand, a second rusted iron blade came slashing toward him.
Ron, who'd never trained in swordsmanship, reacted purely on instinct—raising his own blade to block.
Clang!
The sharp ring of metal echoed through the mine entrance as Marlon swiftly withdrew his strike—only to swing again immediately.
Surprisingly, Ron's reflexes were uncanny. Before even his own mind could register what was happening, his sword was already firmly in place, halting Marlon's attack.
"Froakie—Water Gun, aim for his face!" Ron shouted.
Perched on his shoulder, Froakie hesitated—confused—but obeyed, unleashing a jet of water straight at Marlon.
Marlon blinked, stumbled back two steps, and wiped the water from his face.
In the next instant, he lunged forward again—but Ron sidestepped smoothly, parrying the blow with practiced ease.
"Definitely his bloodline," Marlon chuckled, ducking another Water Gun mid-sentence. "Your physique is clearly different from ours. You don't look like you've trained a day in your life… but I suppose that's normal for people from there." He sheathed his sword. "Alright, that's enough for the first test."
Ron lowered his own blade, watching Marlon carefully.
"Don't get the wrong idea," Marlon clarified. "That was just to see if you could safely enter this abandoned mine—not that I'd hand over your grandfather's Pokémon just for passing this."
He patted the row of Poké Balls at his belt with a wry smile. "Otherwise, what's the point of exploring the mine at all if you've got them backing you up?"
"Go on down," Marlon said. "When you reach Floor 10, come find me at the Adventurers' Guild—I'll give you a Poké Ball as a welcome gift. And your first Pokémon? You'll get that when you reach the very bottom."
With that, Marlon turned and walked away.
Ron looked down at his sword hand, patted Froakie on the head, and stepped onto the rope ladder leading deep into the earth.
Froakie clung to his shoulder, peering around the dim, narrow tunnel.
The passage ahead was tight and shadowed, lined with mineral veins embedded in the stone walls or protruding from the floor.
Gripping his sword tightly, Ron scanned the area, cautiously leading Froakie through a full circuit of the chamber.
It was eerily quiet—unnaturally so. But soon, he spotted the rope ladder descending to the next level in a far corner.
After a brief pause, he decided to press deeper first.
He'd gather ores on the way back. Right now, conserving stamina was key.
So he climbed down to Floor 2.
It was just as silent—no monsters, no Pokémon.
The absence of danger only made Ron more wary.
He found the ladder to Floor 3 and leaned over, straining to listen.
The mine was so still that when he held his breath, he clearly heard faint rustling from below.
He turned to Froakie, who was equally alert.
"Froakie—use Growl."
With a leap, Froakie dropped down into Floor 3.
As soon as its Growl echoed upward, Ron gripped the ladder with one hand, sword in the other, and followed.
He landed softly on the stone floor—then saw it.
A Geodude, its back turned to him, was fixated on Froakie, which stood a few paces away, growling defiantly.
Rock-type.
Ron's heart leapt. "Water Gun!"
Froakie fired instantly.
Ron charged forward and swung his sword—cutting off Geodude just as it tried to roll away.
The Water Gun struck true. Geodude visibly faltered, its stony surface dulling with fatigue. It began to panic.
Seeing it curl up and roll straight at him, Ron sidestepped sharply.
"Water Gun again!"
Froakie's stream aimed at the rolling Geodude—but as it began to veer out of the water's path, Ron jammed his rusted sword into the ground right in front of it.
CRACK!
The blade shattered on impact—but the sudden obstacle forced Geodude to skid to a halt… just in time to take a direct hit from the Water Gun.
Geodude went completely still.
Ron approached, flipped it over, and checked. Its beady eyes were closed—no movement.
"Hope it's not dead…" he muttered, scanning it with his Pokédex.
[Geodude]
[Rock Pokémon]
[Extremely high defense. Possesses exceptional durability against physical attacks.]
[Status: Wild | Fainted]
Fainted—not dead. Perfect.
Relieved, Ron scooped up the Geodude. It weighed more than twice as much as Froakie—but surprisingly manageable.
He tried stowing it in his backpack, but the extradimensional storage wouldn't accept a Pokémon that wasn't officially his.
He glanced back at the hole he'd jumped through, then remembered: there was an old elevator near Floor 5. He'd seen it on his way in.
"If it still works…" he murmured, "I won't have to climb all the way back up."
After giving Froakie a few quick instructions, Ron approached the next ladder.
Then, recalling the Pokédex note about Geodude's "exceptional physical durability," he made a decision.
Rather than carry it further, he walked to the edge of the drop—and simply let go.
---
Abandoned Mine – Floor 5
A wild Orthworm had just surfaced from a sandy pit nearby, a chunk of iron ore clamped in its mouth. It chewed leisurely, leaning against the cavern wall, gazing idly up at the shaft leading to Floor 4.
It frowned slightly.
Why does it sound like something heavy is rolling around up there?
Maybe the Geodude on the upper floor were practicing Rock Throw again?
Curious, it stretched its long, serpentine body upward, peering over the ledge—
—and suddenly, a blinding pain exploded in its head.
Darkness.
The last thought that flickered through Orthworm's mind before unconsciousness:
How… how could any Pokémon on this floor know 'Flying Press'?
---
Ron stared at his unexpected bonus—the Orthworm felled by the plummeting Geodude—and fought to suppress a grin.
He scanned it with his Pokédex.
[Orthworm]
[Earthworm Pokémon]
[Dwells in dry, sandy soil. Consumes iron from the earth to maintain its metallic body.]
[Status: Wild | Fainted]
"Not caught yet… but close enough," he muttered to himself. "It's only a matter of time."
He carefully placed Geodude into the softly glowing elevator car nearby.
Then he approached the much larger Orthworm, took a deep breath, and—with no real expectation of success—grabbed it and pulled with all his might.
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