Ash Ascendant: Chapter 36

Hi all, 

Here’s the final chapter from last week that I owe. 

Chapter 36

Al flew around the control centre, testing out his new physical body. The factory had completed building the robot, and Ash immediately installed the A.I chip. If artificial intelligence could display excitement, Al's constant orbital pattern demonstrated it now.

"This is remarkable, sir," Al said. "I have full mobility at last."

Ash leaned against the command console. "Now that you have your own body, you can explain what you can do for me."

Al swivelled towards him. "Many things, sir. I am now linked with the facilities control centre, so I have access to information concerning the operations, and I can control them remotely." 

“Go on.”

"I can also take over some of your mundane tasks, such as commanding the robots. I suggest that you expand the number you control to give you more flexibility in surveillance operations."

"But each Giru robot requires that I recharge them with my energy," Ash said. "While I have more than enough now to sustain more of them, it still takes time to recharge each one."

"Might I suggest that you upgrade the robots to match my own, with a power core with more energy capacity? This way, you will only have to recharge them every few weeks. It would take a few modifications to use the current template to build some more."

The proposal had merit. Ash's current Giru robots could only run for about a day, depending on their mileage. If he didn't have to recharge them for weeks, it was much easier to manage.

"Can you handle that?” Ash asked. “I need to speak to James."

"Of course, sir."

A thought struck Ash. "What about a new Steel Mask? One that doesn't have a link to the Administrator?"

Al's hover pattern faltered momentarily. "I don't believe that will be possible. Some of the technology in the factory has been restricted, and only the Administrator can unlock it."

"That's unfortunate." Ash pushed away from the console. "Alright, get to work."

He strode from the control centre, leaving Al to his tasks. Hopefully, Jessie had cooled down from the earlier incident. 

Voices drifted from the factory floor as he approached. 

"What are you discussing?" Ash asked.

Delia looked up from where she sat beside Erika. "We've been thinking of a name for this place. We cannot keep calling it 'the facility.'"

"What have you come up with?"

The suggestions came rapid-fire. It was clear they had been discussing the topic for some time. Of all the ideas, he liked Zinnia's suggestion, "Steelworks," the most.

Ash shrugged. "I think the Factory will do nicely. No need to overcomplicate things."

"That's a terrible name," Erika protested. "It has no character whatsoever."

"It describes what it is." Names were the least of their concerns. He turned to James. "Alright, it's about time you explained yourself. What happened last night? If it involves the Tower Association, it cannot be just about your brother and fiancée betraying you."

James shifted uncomfortably. "Can we have this conversation in private?"

"Why? Everyone here is in the same boat. They should understand what situation they're getting into."

"That's not it. You can share it with them later, if you think it's necessary, but I would rather explain it to you alone. Jessie already knows what's going on."

"Alright. Follow me."

They headed for the museum. James paused at the entrance, his gaze drawn to the displays.

“Where did this technology come from?” James asked.

"Questions for later." Ash positioned himself near the centre of the room, arms crossed. "Get on with it?"

"My brother and fiancée's betrayal is only the tip of the iceberg,” James said. “There's something much deeper occurring, which is why the Tower Association is involved. Have you heard of an organisation called the Resurrectionists?"

"No, but I understand what the word means. They’re grave robbers who sell corpses for profit."

"It has a different meaning in this instance. They’re an organisation focused on bringing the legendary Pokémon back to life. They believe that the Overseers are usurpers of the Tower, who used their fortunate beginning in the Tower to grab power for themselves. They believe that the legendary Pokémon's return will restore the balance and make living conditions better for everyone."

"How big is this organisation?"

"It's massive. You will mainly see them on the higher floors, but they will venture down here if the need warrants it. The Overseers consider them the biggest threat to their authority."

Ash frowned as the realisation hit him. "Wait. The Wishing Stone. Did they orchestrate the theft at the auction?”

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't have proof, only suspicions. Well, at least I didn’t before last night." James shrugged. "I'm certain now that they were involved."

"Do they really believe they can revive this Jiraichi with the stone?"

"I don't think it's possible, but someone does."

“They can’t be doing it out of the goodness of their hearts.”

James snorted. “Hell, no. I think their goals are more self-serving than that. You would need to ask them yourself.”

Ash absorbed the information. The Tower was not the solid, unshakable hierarchy he had first believed. Cracks ran deep in its foundation, unseen by most but serious enough to put the whole system at risk. The Overseers, despite seeming all-powerful, faced organised resistance. This was no group of random troublemakers or isolated rebels. Instead, it was a coordinated movement with resources, influence, and clear long-term goals.

"What does this have to do with your fiancée and brother?" Ash asked.

"Because my fiancée is part of this organisation,” James said. “The reason she has been so obsessed with marrying me isn't because she loves me. She has been trying to obtain my family's resources to add them to the Resurrectionists. She turned her attention away from me recently and focused on my brother instead. She managed to get her hooks into him where she couldn't with me."

"Is that why your parents were killed? Because they refused to support this organisation?"

"No, they were part of the organisation. But they disagreed with Jessebelle on the direction it was taking. Instead of fighting them for control, she eliminated them. Now all of my family resources rest in my brother's hands. Or, more accurately, hers."

Ash’s brows furrowed. "Lucien is a powerful cultivator with a psychic affinity. I have a hard time believing he would be easily fooled by her.”

"Who can say? Maybe their interests align."

"If Jessebelle and Lucien are at odds with the Overseers and the Tower Association, why are you being hunted down?"

"Because they framed me." James's hands clenched. "My brother is part of the Tower Association. It would be effortless for him to turn suspicion onto me."

"So the Tower Association attacked you last night."

"Yes. My parents were killed in the process. They didn't even give us a chance to explain ourselves. If it wasn't for Jessie, I would be dead as well."

"If we want to clear your name, then we need to provide evidence to the Overseers of their culpability."

"Easier said than done. They likely planned this for months to cover their tracks. Even if we did find evidence, it would be challenging to present it without being attacked first."

"Perhaps. We need to come up with a plan of attack."

James shook his head. "We won't likely have much time. Do you really think we're safe here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Before the incident last night, Lucien shared something with me. He told me that the Overseers weren't happy with his progress in finding the ruins. That they were sending someone down to replace him. If I were them, I would make use of him to track us down."

Dread settled in Ash's stomach. "Who?"

"A mercenary for hire. They call him the Bloodhound. No place remains safe from him. This place might be well hidden, but I'm sure he can figure out roughly where we are by tracking us. Then it's only a matter of time before he discovers this place."

‘How much time do we have?”

“A few days, at least.”

"Bloody hell." Ash ran a hand through his hair. "Then we'd better develop a plan quickly."

The weight of their situation pressed down upon him. They'd found sanctuary, but sanctuary was temporary.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Ash traced his fingers along Winona's bare back, the contact drawing a soft murmur from her sleeping form. The reality of their changed relationship struck him with quiet intensity—this beautiful, guarded woman had chosen him.

Their first night together had been transformative. Initial fumbling had given way to discovery, exhaustion eventually claiming them both. Even now, his body stirred with renewed hunger, though he resisted the urge to wake her. Exhaustion marked every line of her face.

The Greed core's influence had forced complete honesty between them. No more careful navigation around attraction, no more pretending his appetites remained manageable. Winona understood that his enhanced needs would demand satisfaction, whether from her or elsewhere. 

His stomach rumbled, signalling another hunger that needed to be addressed. The sound, though quiet, triggered an immediate response from Winona. Her eyes opened slowly, focusing on his face.

"Again?" she said, registering his obvious arousal against her thigh.

"Sorry.”

Winona rolled away, pulling the sheet over her head. "I'm too sore. Go bother Zinnia."

The suggestion caught him off guard. "Are you seriously telling me to scratch my itch with another woman, after what we shared?"

"Then rub it out. Just don't bother me."

"I can manage to curb my libido for the moment."

"Good for you."

"Someone's grumpy this morning."

"I'm not a morning person, and we barely slept."

"I'll make note of that for future reference."

Winona shifted position, and the sheet slipped, revealing her breasts, flushed from sleep. Each could fill his hands easily, with pale skin, and rosy nipples—details that had occupied considerable attention during the night. His concentration scattered immediately.

She snapped her fingers. "Focus."

"Right.” Ash scrubbed a hand over his face. “Let's talk about something. Anything. I need a distraction."

Winona pulled the sheet around herself and moved closer. Ash put an arm around her. "What were you and James discussing yesterday?"

"I need to tell the others as well. Can this wait?"

"Tell me now."

Ash recounted his conversation with James, watching her reactions. She maintained composure through most revelations, but her expression shifted when he mentioned the Bloodhound.

"What is it? You recognise the name?" Ash asked.

Winona hesitated before responding. "Where I come from, it’s hard not to know his name. The Bloodhound has built a reputation in certain circles for completing missions, although not in the most orthodox method."

“Is the name based on his skill at tracking his target?”

"Not really. His entire team consists of canine Pokémon, and he possesses the ability to replicate their sensory capabilities. Scent, energy signatures—everyone carries unique markers. Once the Bloodhound locks onto your signature, finding you is inevitable."

"Does he sniff people's arses? Because that would be disturbing."

She punched his shoulder. "Don't be crude."

"His capabilities are a concern,” Ash said, rubbing his shoulder. “James estimated we have only a few days before he tracks us here."

Winona nodded, but something unreadable passed briefly over her face. Ash saw it but chose not to ask about it.

"So, where exactly do you come from?” Ash asked. “Finally ready to share?"

"The seventh floor."

"The same as Erika. Did you know her?"

Winona shook her head. "No. Ash, do you know how big the seventh floor is?"

"I usually only research the next floor. Keeps me focused, and leaves room for surprises."

"You could fit a thousand second floors within its boundaries, and that’s a conservative estimate."

Ash whistled. "That’s difficult to conceptualise from my perspective. Why did you abandon the seventh floor? Descending floors to live in inferior conditions goes against everything I’m striving for."

Winona frowned. "Family disagreement. Don't assume the higher floors guarantee happiness because you are in a better environment. They carry their own problems."

"I'll take your word for it.” Ash paused as a thought occurred to him. “Are you comfortable following me to the third floor? If our relationship continues, we might eventually reach the seventh floor."

"I'm prepared for it. I need to address my family situation eventually, and I'm tired of living on the second floor."

"Is the reason related to the conflict with the mayor and the Rangers?"

"That plays a significant factor."

"What’s in your possession that the mayor wants so desperately?" Ash asked.

"Perhaps I'll reveal that someday. Girls need to keep some secrets."

Ash pounced on her. "Maybe I can persuade you otherwise."

Al burst through the tent entrance. "Good morning, sir. I have—"

Winona launched a pillow with deadly accuracy. "Get out!"

Al retreated with the speed of something fleeing imminent destruction.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The tall man in the Lillipup mask followed the mayor through the winding bridges of Fortree City, his head moving in jerky, unnatural motions as he sniffed the air repeatedly. His companion, a massive Houndoom with scarred flanks, padded silently beside him.

The mayor glanced nervously over his shoulder. He'd dealt with mercenaries before, but this one unnerved him in ways he couldn't articulate. Something about the man's movements felt wrong, predatory in a way that reminded him more of a hunting beast than a human being.

"This way," the mayor said, gesturing toward the administrative building at the city's heart. "We can speak privately in my office."

The Bloodhound said nothing, his masked face tilting upward as another scent caught his attention. He paused mid-step, nostrils flaring beneath the Lillipup mask. 

When they finally reached the office,  the mayor gestured toward a pair of chairs arranged before his mahogany desk.

"Please, sit down," the mayor said, moving behind his desk where he felt marginally safer. "Lucien briefed me on the situation, but I thought it best to provide additional details in person."

The Bloodhound ignored the invitation entirely. Instead, he began pacing the room with restless energy. The Houndoom settled near the door.

"Right, well," the mayor continued. "Your primary target is James Morgan. He's wanted for the murder of his parents and involvement with an anti-Overseer organisation. Lucien said he's being sheltered by accomplices who helped him escape."

The Bloodhound paused his pacing but didn't respond. 

"There are several secondary targets," the mayor pressed on, consulting a piece of paper on his desk. "A woman named Jessie, last name unknown. A young man called Ash Ketchum, though he may prove challenging given his connection to Mustard. And another woman—Winona."

The moment the name left his lips, the Bloodhound froze. The mayor didn't notice the sudden change.

"That Winona is a bloody thief," the mayor continued.. "She stole something valuable from me. I want it back, but that old fool Mustard keeps getting in the way." 

He looked up from his papers, still oblivious to the tension radiating from his guest. "She's quite beautiful, actually. Violet hair, striking features. If Mustard hadn't interfered when he did, I would have captured her months ago and kept her as my mistress."

The mayor's voice trailed off as he finally became aware that something had changed in the room. The atmosphere felt charged, dangerous. The Houndoom's low growl filled the silence, but the Pokemon wasn't looking at him—it was staring at its master.

The Bloodhound had dropped into a crouch, his body coiled like a spring ready to release. The Lillipup mask turned toward the mayor, and though it looked silly, something was terrifying in the way the man held himself.

"What are you—" the mayor began.

The Bloodhound launched himself across the room with inhuman speed. His body cleared the desk entirely, slamming into the mayor with the force of a battering ram. The impact drove the mayor backwards, his chair toppling as his body crashed into the wall behind his desk. 

"Wait!" the mayor gasped, his hands scrambling for purchase as he tried to escape the man's grip. "What's wrong with you?"

But his meagre first-stage Tempering Realm cultivation was nothing compared to the raw power pressing down on him. The Bloodhound's fingers closed around the mayor's throat, lifting him clear off the ground with one hand. The mayor's feet kicked uselessly in the air as his breathing became laboured.

A dark stain spread across the front of the mayor's trousers as his bladder released. His eyes bulged as he silently pleaded for mercy, his hands clawing at the iron grip around his neck.

The Bloodhound turned his head away in disgust before finally releasing his hold. The mayor collapsed to the floor, gasping and choking as air rushed back into his lungs. Before he could recover, the Bloodhound reached down and drew one sharp fingernail across the mayor's cheek, opening a thin line of blood.

The masked man brought his finger to his mouth and licked the blood clean.

"Tell this Lucien that I will find James Morgan," the Bloodhound said. "But if I ever have to suffer your presence again, I'm going to tear you to pieces."

Without another word, the Bloodhound strode from the office, his Houndoom falling into step beside him. The mayor remained on the floor, trembling too violently to move, too terrified to do anything but listen to the sound of footsteps fading down the corridor.

Outside the building, the Bloodhound paused on the wooden walkway. He raised his nose toward the night sky, breathing deeply of the forest-scented air that drifted through the city.

"I wonder what Mustard is up to," he murmured to himself, then set off into the forest.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The following day, Ash gripped the surveillance camera mounted high on the facility's wall and gave it a sharp twist. The device came free with a satisfying crack. He focused his energy and teleported down to the floor.

Looking around the vast space, he spotted another camera positioned near the ceiling. Concentrating on the destination, he teleported upward, his fingers finding purchase on the metal niches built into the wall structure. The distance had been perfect—close enough to grab hold without overshooting into the ceiling itself.

"Let's see if this gets a response," Ash muttered as he removed the second camera and tossed it to the floor below.

He was systematically removing the Administrator's surveillance network, both to prevent spying and to practice his teleportation abilities. The short-range jumps were becoming natural, his ability to judge distances improving with each attempt. At least when he could see his destination. 

But for places he couldn’t see, it was still a work in progress. Visualising a location from memory was beyond his abilities, and he knew better than to try without more experience. The energy requirements were also a factor. While he could manage these small hops easily enough, teleporting from here to Fortree City might drain him completely.

Still, he couldn't argue with the convenience factor. Once he left this place, teleportation would open up possibilities that even his Steel Board couldn't match. The ability to appear anywhere he'd previously visited, to escape dangerous situations instantly, or to scout locations without being detected—the applications were endless.

Al glided through the air toward him, interrupting his thoughts.

"Sir, I have received a message from the Administrator."

"So soon?" Ash teleported back to the floor. "That didn't take much effort to get its attention."

"It wants to speak to you in the Mausoleum."

"Why there?"

"I didn't ask. Perhaps it wants a place to speak in private."

"Alright, I'm going."

He entered the Mausoleum and settled into the chair at the terminal. The screen flickered to life. A wireframe outline appeared—the suggestion of a head and basic facial features rendered in simple lines. When it spoke, the mouth moved in approximation of speech, and the voice that emerged was distinctly feminine.

"Greetings, Ash Ketchum. I have been meaning to speak to you for some time."

"Well, you have me at a disadvantage," Ash replied. "It's been months since I first entered the facility. Why didn't you introduce yourself sooner?"

"My primary objective is to protect this place and hide its secrets. Not to allow intruders inside. I wanted to observe you first, to see if you were a threat."

"Don't give me that crap. You're the one who brought me here."

"I had to act quickly when my sensors picked up your presence above ground. What are the chances that the person my creators had been searching for all this time just happened to pass by?"

Ash frowned. "Yeah, what a wonderful coincidence. How did you get the Diglett to follow your orders?"

"A simple exchange. I provide them with some of the facility's metal, and they help hide this place. An arrangement that has worked wonders for over a century."

"Uh-huh." Ash leaned back in his chair. "What do I call you? Administrator is a mouthful."

"Call me whatever you wish. It matters not to me."

"I'll call you Lou. Nice and simple."

"You're not very good with names, are you?"

Ash raised an eyebrow. "You're a lot more judgmental than Al. So, back to the topic at hand. What is it about me that attracted your attention? Was it my Steel-affinity? That I could summon Steelium outside of my body?"

"You have the Steelium cultivation manual, don't you?"

"You know about that?" Ash straightened in his chair. "I knew this facility created the ruins on the first floor."

"My creators left several copies inside ruins. On every floor except the second. They wanted to find someone like you to pilot their weapon. I was alerted when someone managed to access the ruins on the first floor. So I almost expected someone to find this place at some point."

"What was the point of the ruins collapsing after I grabbed the Steelium and the manual?"

"My creators wanted to protect their secrets. Only those who were worthy would be able to enter the ruins and obtain the prize for themselves. After that, there was no reason for them to remain."

"Almost got me killed,” Ash muttered. “Has anyone else obtained the Steelium from another floor?"

"No. Many have tried to access the ruins, but none have succeeded."

"Alright, I have a burning question,” Ash said. “Why did the scientists give up on the project and seal it away?"

Lou didn't answer immediately, as if she were considering whether to answer. "Part of the reason was that they couldn't find a pilot that could fully integrate with the mech."

"What's the primary reason?"

"There was an incident with one of our pilots. When he was merging his consciousness with the mech, he encountered something."

"What was it?"

"The pilot said it was another presence. A ghost in the shell, for lack of a better term. And it wasn't friendly. It managed to take over control of the mech through the pilot and went on a rampage. The only reason it stopped was that it was on a low charge; otherwise, it may have destroyed the entire facility. When they questioned the pilot, he told them that he didn't remember a thing."

"Did they figure out what this presence was?"

"They ran some tests. Managed to replicate the phenomenon. But kept the mech restrained to avoid another incident."

"And?"

"There was never anything conclusive, but their best theory was that it was the legendary Pokémon Registeel's consciousness, which had somehow become trapped in the mech. No matter its identity, my creators decided that it was too risky. It was an unstable element that they couldn't remove or control. The project started winding down from there."

Ash felt his blood turn cold. His mind flashed back to what James had said about the legendary Pokémon. How their presence could be found throughout the Tower. Was it more than simple murals and architecture?

His thoughts turned to the Pillar and how he had to collect dragon-type energy in exchange for items. But what was its purpose? Did it have anything to do with the Rayquaza construct on the outside of the Pillar? Was it possible that Rayquaza's consciousness was locked inside the stone?

Ash shook his head. He was letting his imagination get away from him. There was no evidence that Registeel's consciousness was inside the mech. However, it was something that he needed to keep in mind when he merged his consciousness with the mech.

He changed the subject. "Is there anything in the video files that revealed any information on Ketchum that Registeel mentioned?"

"No. My creators investigated the name, but they never found anything. All of the video files are from when we rebuilt the facility. None of them survived the transition from our old world into the Tower. Was he related to you?"

"Maybe. You wouldn't have found anything because he was part of the invading forces. Or he disguised himself as one to find Registeel. They had some sort of relationship."

Ash searched his mind for another question. Now that he had his main questions answered, he didn’t know what to ask next. He snapped his fingers as an idea came to him.

"I've been struggling to find my way in this place, surrounded by all its technology and secrets," Ash said. “Is there anything you recommend I do to make it more secure? Any technology that will help me? Or give Al access to? I know your creators wanted you to keep this place secret, but clearly you think otherwise, or else you wouldn't have brought me here."

"I can compile a list of recommendations."

"Great. I don't know when I'll get to them, though. As soon as I have sorted out the latest mess, I'll be heading for the third floor."

"You can return anytime. I'm not going anywhere."

"A great comfort, I'm sure. But first, I need to make sure no one finds this place."

Ash stood from the terminal, his mind already working through the implications of everything Lou had told him. He thought about his next move. He needed to know more about this Bloodhound. Winona hadn't explicitly stated it, but the mercenary's cultivation had to be high to be so effective at hunting his targets. Even with all his methods, he couldn't think of a way to deal with him.

As loath as he was to seek more help, he needed to visit his master. Mustard might know more about this Bloodhound.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Ash approached Mustard's cottage. The others hadn't been happy about him leaving the facility. James had been particularly vocal about the risks, whilst Winona had simply given him one of her pointed stares that conveyed more disapproval than words ever could. But he needed to speak to Mustard about the Bloodhound, and since he now possessed the Teleport technique, he was reasonably confident he could escape trouble if needed.

The cottage came into view through the trees. Ash paused when voices drifted from the clearing ahead. Mustard was speaking to someone, his tone carrying an edge that Ash rarely heard from the old master.

He crept closer, positioning himself behind a tree where he could observe without being seen. Mustard stood near the cottage steps, facing a tall man wearing a ridiculous Lillipup mask. A massive Houndoom sat beside the stranger, its scarred flanks visible even from this distance.

"I didn't think they would send a mongrel to track down James," Mustard said, his arms crossed. "They must be desperate."

"Stop calling me that." The masked figure's voice carried irritation beneath its controlled tone. "Why is Winona mixed up in this?"

Ash strained his ears, pressing closer to the tree trunk. This had to be the Bloodhound that James had warned them about. How did he know Winona?

"She's friends with Ash Ketchum," Mustard replied. "She's not going to like it when she finds out you're the one pursuing her. You should just give up, Ward."

Ward. So the Bloodhound had a name. Ash filed that information away whilst continuing to listen.

"I will convince her to return with me to the seventh floor," Ward said.

"Good luck with that." Mustard chuckled. "Didn't I say she was friends with Ash? Well, it's more than that."

Ward stiffened.

"I know this is a shock to you, but she is a young woman," Mustard continued. "It was inevitable that she would find—"

"Silence." Ward's voice cut through the air like a blade. "I smell something foul in the air."

The Houndoom began growling, its red eyes fixed on the tree where Ash was hidden. Ward turned his head, sniffing audibly.

"You may as well come out, Ash," Mustard called. "He can already smell you."

Ash sighed and jumped down from his perch, and walked into the clearing. He sniffed his clothes experimentally.

"I showered and changed before coming here," he said. "I don't smell bad, do I?"

Ward's masked face turned towards him. "You have Winona's scent on you. How do you know her?"

"I would like to know the same," Ash replied. "Am I speaking to the Bloodhound? Cute mask, by the way."

"Ward is her brother, Ash," Mustard said.

Ash blinked. He looked between Ward and Mustard, processing this revelation.

"Oh," he said finally. "I didn’t expect that. This is awkward."

"You slept with my sister." Ward's voice was deadly quiet.

"Well, yes," Ash admitted, seeing no point in lying. "But it wasn't a spontaneous thing. Our relationship has been developing for months."

"I'm going to kill you."

An aura erupted from Ward's body, pressing down on the clearing like a physical weight. The power was clearly beyond the Spirit Realm, waves of crushing pressure that made Ash's knees buckle. He struggled to remain standing as the oppressive energy battered against him.

"Ash, I would use everything to defend yourself," Mustard said. "Or you may die right now."

"Aren't you going to do anything?" Ash gasped, fighting against the overwhelming pressure.

"The man is concerned about his sister," Mustard replied. "I'll stop it before it gets too far out of hand."

Ward burst forward, his hands revealing razor-sharp nails ready to tear Ash to pieces. Desperation drove Ash to summon every ounce of Steelium he could muster, the metallic substance flowing across his body until it encased him completely. The armour formed into a shape that resembled the Registeel mech, crude but functional.

Mustard's eyes widened at the sight. "Well, now. That is something new."

Ward's claws raked across Ash's armoured chest, each strike precise and devastating. The Steelium held for a moment before cracking, metallic fragments scattering across the clearing like broken glass. Ash stumbled backwards, desperately trying to reinforce the damaged sections, but Ward pressed his advantage relentlessly.

Another swipe caught his shoulder, the razor-sharp nails carving through the metal as if it were paper. The armour peeled away in strips, leaving deep gouges in the underlying steel. Ash gritted his teeth, pouring more energy into his defences, but Ward's cultivation was overwhelming. Every attack seemed to strip another layer of protection from his body.

A backhand sent Ash sprawling, his head armour cracking down the centre. He rolled away from Ward's follow-up strike, the claws gouging furrows in the earth where his head had been. This wasn't working. He couldn't fight this man head-on—Ward's power was simply too great.

Desperation drove him to cancel the armour entirely. The Steelium flowed back into his core as he concentrated on the teleportation technique. The world blurred, and he reappeared behind Ward, liquid metal already forming dozens of spikes along his arms.

The projectiles launched in a deadly barrage, but Ward twisted impossibly fast, his body contorting to avoid the worst of the assault. Several spikes found their mark, drawing thin lines of blood across his chest and arms, but he barely seemed to notice.

Ash teleported again, appearing to Ward's left. More spikes flew, then he vanished once more, reappearing above the masked man. Each time he materialised, he unleashed another volley, trying to overwhelm Ward through sheer volume of attacks.

But Ward adapted quickly. His movements became more predictable to the experienced hunter, who seemed to anticipate each teleportation. Claws swept through the air where Ash would appear, forcing him to abort attacks and teleport defensively. The energy drain was enormous—he couldn't keep this up much longer.

Ward lunged forward for another devastating attack, and this time, Ash didn't teleport away. Instead, he planted his feet and activated the Iron Echo Shell, energy rippling through his meridians as Mustard had taught him. His prosthetic arm extended, liquid metal flowing across the mechanical limb until it gleamed like polished silver.

Ward's claws descended, but Ash stepped forward to meet them. The Iron Echo technique hummed through his body as he prepared to redirect Ward's overwhelming strength back at him.

Their fists collided.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Ash and the others prepare to ascend to the third floor. 

Thanks for reading.