Ash's Story (Part 6: Unova)

Chapter 97: Limits of Strength

Twist Mountain stood ahead of us like a wall carved from winter and stone.

After Icirrus City, the road toward the mountain felt quieter than the bridges, marshes, and old Gym we had just crossed. The cold air stayed low against the ground, and the mountain entrance breathed out a chill that reminded me of caves, training, and battles that did not care how tired someone felt before they began.

I was tired, but not in the same way as before.

The old castle had left something heavy behind my ribs. Tubeline Bridge and Route 8 had moved me forward again. Brycen's words about strength, support, and acting had stayed with me longer than I expected. Now, standing in front of Twist Mountain, I could feel another test waiting.

Not a test of memory.

It was a test of limits.

Marshal was already training there.

He stood on a flat stretch of stone near the mountain entrance, surrounded by Fighting-type Pokémon moving through drills. Throh practiced throws against a heavy training post. Sawk struck the air with clean, sharp punches. Conkeldurr lifted stone pillars with slow control. Lucario stood with its eyes closed, aura gathering around its paws. Mienshao moved like a whip, striking and retreating before the dust settled.

Marshal watched all of them with crossed arms and absolute focus.

Nothing about his training looked wasted. Every punch ended where it was supposed to. Every step returned to stance. Even the dust around his Pokémon seemed to rise and fall with discipline, as if the mountain itself had learned to breathe with them.

Iris's eyes lit up. "Now that looks like training."

Cilan smiled, but his voice stayed respectful. "A severe course of discipline, endurance, and body control. Marshal's battlefield already begins before anyone declares the match."

Golly looked over the training area. "At least it is open, visible, and not inside a haunted house, tower, or ruined castle."

"That is progress," Eve said.

Alice looked at me. "Last Elite Four medal?"

"Last one before Iris," I said.

The words made Iris grin wider, but she did not interrupt. For all her wild energy, she understood what this battle meant. Marshal was not only another opponent. He was the last gate before the Champion match, and that Champion was walking with us.

Pikachu's tail brushed my shoulder.

Pikachu's meaning came steady and warm. "Fighting strength asks whether your heart keeps standing after your body shakes."

I nodded. "Then we answer standing."

Marshal turned before I called out. He studied me for a moment, then recognition moved across his face.

"You look familiar," Marshal said. "Ah, yes. I met you here a few months ago. The strength you are radiating is far greater now than before."

I stepped forward and greeted him. "Marshal."

He struck one fist into his palm. "Greetings, challenger. My name is Marshal. I am the No. 1 pupil of my mentor, Alder. In order to master the art of fighting, I have kept training."

His Fighting-types stopped their drills and turned toward us.

Marshal's eyes sharpened. "You are also walking a similar path with your Pokémon. It is my intention to test you and take you to the limits of your strength. Kiai!"

I felt my nerves answer, not with fear, but with readiness. Marshal's shout was not a threat. It was a door opening with force, asking whether I would step through or only talk about strength from a safe distance.