1. Ash's Story (Part 10: Galar)

Chapter 36: Masked Terror

Stow-on-Side looked carved out of dust, stone, and old stories. The market crowded the path with canvas awnings, bright rugs, fossil charms, cracked pots, and sellers calling over one another while the ruins watched from above like they had heard every bargain before.

Alice slowed beside me. "This town feels noisy in a different way."

The sound did not only come from people. It came from stone underfoot, old metal, and the stadium waiting ahead.

Grookey's Poké Ball tapped at my belt before I could answer. Every shout, hammer strike, and coin clink made it answer with a tiny rhythm from inside the ball. After Dappled Grove, I knew that meant it was listening.

Gloria adjusted her bag and looked up toward the stadium. "It feels like everyone here is waiting for a battle, even the shops."

"That is Stow-on-Side," Elena said. "Old stones, old pride, and people who pretend dust does not get into everything."

A stall owner lifted a teapot from a velvet cloth. It was chipped along the rim, but something about its shape made me stop. It did not feel dangerous. It felt unfinished.

"What is that?" I asked.

"That is a Chipped Pot," the owner said. "Storied past, odd charm, three thousand."

Flora raised an eyebrow when I paid. "Why spend so much on a broken teapot?"

"I cannot explain it," I said, tucking it away carefully. "It feels like something we should keep."

Meowth leaned over the bag. "If a cracked pot starts talking, I am not paying rent to it."

A metallic scrape drew our attention before anyone could answer. Our Galarian Meowth had slipped from its ball and was glaring at a display of old battle medals. The town's rough noise seemed to sharpen the hair around its head until it looked less like fur and more like forged metal.

A tough-looking local Perrserker carved its claws across a practice post near the market, and Meowth stepped forward with a growl. I almost called it back, but Alice touched my sleeve.

"Wait," Alice said. "This is pride, not trouble."

The local Perrserker struck first. Galarian Meowth blocked with its claws, skidded back, and grinned. Stow-on-Side's market roared around them. The clang of metal, the bark of sellers, and Grookey's quick taps all folded into the same beat.

Galarian Meowth's fur hardened with a silver flash. It grew broader, fiercer, and more battle-hungry, becoming Perrserker as its grin sharpened into a warrior's smile.

Pokédex Entry Updated — Ash and Alice's Shared Galar Record

Perrserker, the Viking Pokémon. Steel type. What appears to be an iron helmet is actually hardened hair. This Pokémon lives for the thrill of battle.

Perrserker crossed its claws and snorted toward the old medals, "Do not hang courage on a stall. Put it in my claws and let me earn it."

"That sounds like Perrserker," I said.

Grookey hopped out next, unable to resist the city's rhythm. It tapped once, then twice, then began moving around the market stones, answering footsteps and cart wheels. At first the beat was playful. Then the crowd thickened near the stadium road, and the rhythm started clashing with too many serious voices.

A trainer passing by challenged us to a short practice match, and Grookey accepted before I did. It dodged, tapped, and tried to keep the fight light, but the town's pressure pushed harder. Grookey stopped following the rhythm and began commanding it.