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Following the directions from the "helpful" Croagunk, Kael finally arrived at the Verdant Bamboo Grove.
What greeted him was breathtaking.
A vast sea of emerald stretched endlessly, bamboo trunks rising skyward like green pillars of light. Their smooth, lacquered surfaces shimmered faintly under the morning sun, each one reflecting life's quiet rhythm.
A narrow stone path wound through the grove, vanishing into a dim, tranquil heart deeper within. The air smelled clean cool bamboo, wet earth, and faint dew — fresh enough to make Kael inhale sharply in delight.
He smiled. "Now this feels like the right place."
With steady steps, he followed the curving path, the soft crunch of gravel beneath his feet the only sound breaking the forest's peace.
As he walked deeper, the voices and noises of the dojo faded away until only the rustle of leaves remained gentle, rhythmic, like breathing.
Sunlight pierced through gaps in the bamboo canopy, painting golden flecks across the mossy stones.
The further Kael went, the more comfortable he felt.
The shade, the stillness, the whispering wind it all resonated with the faint ghostly energy within him.
By the time the grove opened up into a small clearing, he was utterly calm.
---
In the center stood a lone figure.
Tall. Blue-skinned.
A Sawk.
It stood perfectly still, hands clasped before its chest in silent meditation.
Its body looked carved from stone, dressed in what resembled a white-and-black martial gi tied with a black belt.
The breeze tugged gently at the ends of that belt, and the faint motion was the only proof it wasn't a statue.
Kael's eyes widened slightly. "Sawk… so this is my first mentor?"
He took a breath and raised a hand in greeting —
But just then, something small caught his attention.
From far above, a single droplet of dew trembled on the tip of a leaf, then fell.
It tumbled lazily through the air, glinting with sunlight like a tiny crystal.
Kael barely paid it any mind — until Sawk moved.
---
The warrior's eyes opened. Sharp, clear, perfectly focused.
He shifted his palms apart, one hand rising with fluid grace, fingers pressed together into a blade.
That droplet was descending straight toward his hand.
He's not—
Before Kael could even finish the thought, the drop landed softly in Sawk's palm.
And didn't burst.
Sawk's hand barely lowered by an inch, perfectly absorbing the fall's impact, the energy dispersing through his arm like ripples in water.
The dew bead now sat intact and still, gleaming on his skin.
Kael's jaw slackened.
He… absorbed the force without breaking it. No aura, no energy just raw, physical control.
Then Sawk turned his wrist.
The motion was smooth, deliberate so soft it looked slow, yet so precise it blurred.
The droplet rolled down his palm and flicked outward.
Whoosh!
The sound was faint but sharp, like a bullet slicing air.
"What—!?"
Kael barely had time to react. Instinct took over he crossed his arms before his chest just as the droplet struck.
Paft!
Cold mist exploded across his forearm.
Tiny water particles glimmered in the air, scattering like shattered glass.
Kael exhaled, heart pounding.
"…That could've taken my head off if it weren't water."
Even now, his sharp senses felt no trace of aura. No Focus Energy, no special move.
It was pure technique, strength, timing, and precision all working in harmony.
He straightened, expression hardening into respect.
"Impressive…" he murmured.
Then bowed slightly.
"Sir, I'm Kael the new trainee from the Ignis Dojo. Are you… My mentor?"
Sawk's gaze lingered on him for a few seconds long, steady, measuring.
Then, at last, the martial Pokémon gave a solemn nod.
---
Every dojo's structure followed a hierarchy: seasoned Pokémon trained the younger ones, teaching them discipline, combat principles, and technique.
Most instructors handled groups of ten to fifteen apprentices at a time.
But Kael was an exception his unusual energy and immense potential had earned him a one-on-one mentorship.
Sawk, an elder master with four decades of teaching experience, had seen countless prodigies before.
And nearly all of them shared one thing: pride.
That was why Sawk always opened his first lesson with a demonstration.
No words just skill.
And without fail, it humbled them.
Looking at Kael now, tall, scarred, intimidating yet respectful, the old master saw the same spark he'd seen in a thousand young fighters before.
He gave another approving nod.
---
Kael's heart pounded with excitement.
To think he'd come here just to train quietly, yet ended up with a mentor like this — someone who could turn a dewdrop into a weapon.
If he could master even a fraction of that technique, his growth would skyrocket.
Such control… such flow… even evolution wouldn't give him that kind of precision.
He clenched his fists, eager, almost trembling.
"Three mentors," he whispered. "If the first one's already this strong…"
His crimson eyes burned with determination.
"Then this is going to be fun."
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