Mine, Underground Level
Lucien returned to the same subterranean passage he had discovered during his last expedition.
He and Geralt now stood before a massive slab of stone engraved with strange, curling patterns. At its center, faintly visible in the flickering torchlight, was a symbol that resembled a radiant sun.
Lucien studied it for a long moment before asking quietly,
"Geralt… do you know what civilizations existed in this land before the founding of the Kingdom of Aindoak?"
Geralt furrowed his brow, thinking carefully.
"As far as I know, Your Highness," he replied, "before the founding of Aindoak, this region was ruled by an ancient kingdom known as the Pers Empire. But… these carvings don't match anything they left behind."
Lucien's gaze deepened. "What about before that?"
Geralt shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid that's beyond my knowledge, Your Highness. Perhaps one of the royal city's ancient scholars might know more."
Lucien nodded thoughtfully.
Ancient scholars, those who specialized in studying lost civilizations and forgotten cultures.
"I see…"
He didn't seem disappointed, only contemplative.
Even in this world of Pokémon, history followed the same rhythm as his old one: endless cycles of rise and fall. Empires waged war, kingdoms crumbled, and new nations rose from their ashes, over and over again.
As they pressed deeper into the tunnel, Lucien soon spotted the familiar Rhydon that had attacked him and Snivy before.
At once, Geralt stepped protectively in front of him. He didn't need to speak; the gleam in his eyes was enough.
With a nod, the Haxorus beside him lunged forward.
A flash of cold light burst from its twin axe-like tusks, cleaving through the darkness. The Rhydon roared in pain before turning tail and fleeing into the shadows.
"All clear, Your Highness," Geralt said evenly.
It must be said, having such a formidable man around really gave him a sense of security!
Together, they continued through the narrow, winding tunnel that cut deep into the mountain.
The deeper they went, the heavier and thicker the air became.
Geralt struck a flint and lit a torch, the flame casting an amber glow over the rock walls. Slowly, as the light spread, faint outlines began to emerge around them, remnants of ancient structures carved directly into the stone.
Though weathered by time, the shapes of collapsed pillars and broken doorways still hinted at what might once have been a thriving underground city.
"Be careful, Your Highness," Geralt warned quietly, his torch held high. "We're deep underground now."
Lucien hummed in acknowledgment but had already become transfixed by something else.
Across the walls stretched a series of ancient murals, their lines rough yet full of emotion. He stepped closer, brushing away dust to reveal more of the faded images.
The carvings told a story.
Primitive humans clad in animal hides and grass skirts roamed the land, hunting with stone spears and bows. Then, the climate changed, a blizzard descended, and the figures collapsed in the snow, lifeless.
But then, further along the wall, a new scene unfolded:
the survivors knelt before a blazing sun-like shape, its rays etched with reverence and awe.
By the final mural, the people had gathered in great numbers, all kneeling, arms raised toward the radiant symbol.
Lucien's heartbeat quickened.
Clearly, these figures lived in an even older, pre-civilized, tribal era.
His gaze lingered on the carved "sun."
"Unova… a sun god…" he whispered, his mind racing.
Could it be… that this "sun" was not Solgaleo at all, but the Volcarona, the Pokémon once revered as the incarnation of the sun itself?
Legends of the Volcarona had long circulated throughout Unova.
According to those tales, in the coldest and most desolate lands, the Volcarona was revered as the incarnation of the sun itself, a fiery deity of warmth and rebirth.
Ancient murals depicted it descending from the heavens in a cocoon of living flame, bringing life and heat to both people and Pokémon suffering through endless winter.
As Lucien studied the carvings, a strange realization began to take shape in his mind.
'So that's it… these ruins must be tied to the Volcarona.'
"Your Highness Lucien, we're nearing the lowest level," Geralt warned, a faint tension in his voice. "Please be cautious. I can feel… something down there."
Lucien nodded. "I know."
He glanced at Dratini and Snivy, giving a silent signal for them to ready themselves. Both Pokémon lowered their bodies, alert and focused.
They followed the tunnel downward until, at last, it opened into a vast underground chamber.
Lucien's breath caught.
Before them stood a colossal ruin, its base formed of crumbling, stepped stone like an ancient pyramid, and a ring of weather-worn pillars surrounded it like sentinels of a forgotten age.
Even more striking was the heat, the air here was noticeably warmer than the surface, heavy with the faint scent of sulfur and ash.
And despite being buried far beneath the earth, the cavern was lit by a soft, golden glow that bathed everything in gentle warmth.
Yet this light did not comfort Geralt, it only made his instincts sharpen.
"Your Highness," he murmured, hand already on his blade, "I sense hostile presences… Be on guard!"
The Haxorus beside him let out a low growl, its crimson eyes gleaming.
Then, from the far side of the ruins, came a series of guttural, rasping cries.
"Drm! Drm!"
A pack of fiery, red-furred, gorilla-like Pokémon burst out from the shadows, their massive fists wreathed in heat.
Darmanitan.
Before Lucien could react, the first Darmanitan swung its burning fist toward Geralt.
Clang!
Steel met flame, Geralt blocked the blow with his sword. Sparks scattered as the heat scorched his armor, but the knight stood firm, unmoving.
The Darmanitan recoiled, its wide eyes flashing with disbelief. This human had withstood its strike!
But Geralt countered with a twist of his wrist and drove the creature back, his sword's hilt striking squarely against its chest.
"Druma!"
The Darmanitan roared in pain, tumbling backward across the stone floor. Geralt, ever disciplined, did not strike to kill, only to repel.
Yet the others howled in fury.
"Daruma! Daruma! Daruma!"
They pounded their chests, flames crackling across their bodies, and surged forward in a wave of blazing red.
"Your Highness, behind you!"
Several slipped past the line, rushing straight for Lucien.
Lucien did not flinch. "Snivy, Vine Whip! Dratini, Twister!"
"Vine!"
"Miin!"
With a sharp crack, Snivy's twin vines lashed out, striking two Darmanitan squarely across the face and sending them staggering back.
At the same time, Dratini spun its slender body, unleashing a Twister that erupted into a roaring spiral of wind and heat. The vortex collided with the attackers, scattering them like leaves in a storm.
Within moments, the cavern filled with the sounds of battle, whips slicing the air, dragon winds shrieking through the dark, and the guttural cries of the enraged Darmanitan echoing off the ancient stone.
One by one, the fiery apes began to falter.
The last few turned tail, howling as they fled back into the darkness.
And in the sudden stillness that followed, Lucien stood in the golden light of the underground ruin, heart pounding.
The air was still thick with heat, and somewhere deeper within the ruins, he could feel it…
A faint, pulsing warmth. Like a heartbeat.
...
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