Ash Ascendant: Chapter 18

Hi all, 

Here’s the third chapter of the week. I still owe the fourth, which will roll into next week. 

Chapter 18

The next two weeks brought steady progress in Ash's training. Each dawn found him at Mustard's cottage, repeating the basic stances until his muscles burned. The old master gradually increased the energy-infused weights, forcing Ash to adapt his technique. By the end of the first week, he could maintain the Mountain stance for six hours while carrying twice the initial weight.

Winona observed from the porch each morning, her sharp eyes missing nothing as Ash worked through the forms. Though she didn't practice the style herself, her combat experience led her to notice details even Mustard sometimes overlooked—a slight imbalance in his shoulder alignment, the way his right foot tended to drift during transitions. Her critiques were brutal but accurate, each correction bringing small improvements to his form.

The Iron Echo Shell technique consumed most of his training time. Mustard demonstrated by having Ash punch him repeatedly, each strike rebounding with doubled force. The old master's energy formed an invisible framework throughout his body, redirecting and amplifying incoming attacks. The complexity of the technique became apparent as Ash studied the subtle ways Mustard's energy flowed and shifted with each impact.

"Your turn," Mustard said on the tenth morning. He adjusted Ash's stance before throwing a light punch.

Ash channelled his energy through his meridians, creating the secondary structure as taught. The punch connected with his chest. Pain blossomed as his technique failed, the energy dispersing instead of redirecting. His attempt to maintain the energy framework collapsed under even this basic strike.

"Again," Mustard commanded. "Feel the ripples. Don't fight them—guide them."

They repeated the exercise for hours. Each failure taught Ash something new about how the energy should flow. Sometimes he managed to redirect a fraction of the force, though never with the clean efficiency Mustard demonstrated. By afternoon, he could finally deflect basic strikes, though maintaining the technique left him drained. Mustard explained that the effectiveness would improve as his cultivation advanced. A stronger foundation meant more energy to reinforce the skeletal structure.

The weights seemed heavier after each break, making precise movements increasingly difficult. Yet he couldn't deny the results. His body felt denser and more responsive. The Iron Echo Shell activated faster each day, though maintaining it through complex movements remained challenging.

Mustard increased the difficulty steadily. Once Ash could handle single strikes, the old master began throwing combinations. Each attack came from a different angle, forcing Ash to adapt his energy framework rapidly. Most attempts ended with him sprawled in the dirt, his technique shattered by the sustained assault.

By the second week, Ash had developed an instinct for the basic movements. His energy responded more naturally to incoming attacks, though maintaining the shell still required conscious effort. Mustard explained that true mastery would make the technique as automatic as breathing, but that level of skill lay months or years ahead.

"Focus," Mustard barked, noticing his wandering attention. "Master the basics before trying to innovate. The advanced applications will come later."

Ash nodded and returned to his stance work. The old master was right—he needed to build a proper foundation first. Still, the potential applications filled his mind as he moved through the forms, each stance flowing more naturally than the day before.

The training intensified as the days passed. Mustard attacked without warning, forcing Ash to maintain the Iron Echo Shell constantly. The weights grew heavier, making even simple movements a challenge. Yet slowly, steadily, his technique improved. He learned to read the subtle shifts in Mustard's energy that telegraphed incoming attacks. His own energy framework became more stable, capable of redirecting increasingly powerful strikes.

"Right then," Mustard announced as the sun began to set on the fourteenth day. "Time to test your progress. No holding back this time."

Ash settled into his stance, energy rippling beneath his skin as Mustard charged forward. He was in for a world of pain. 

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

Three Giru robots hovered silently above the bandit camp, their cloaking active as they transmitted surveillance footage to Ash's mask interface. Six bandits lounged around a campfire while two more stood guard. Their Pokemon—a mix of Fighting and Dark types—patrolled the perimeter. A Machoke and Pangoro formed the core of their defence, with several Mightyena and Poochyena providing support.

Ash studied their positions through the robots' feed, noting how the Pokemon moved in coordinated patterns. These weren't amateur thugs—their security showed professional training. 

"Pattern Theta," he whispered. His Pokemon responded instantly to the command, moving to their designated positions.

Blitz floated high above, its magnets spinning in preparation for his attack. Since reaching level 20, the Magnemite had mastered Spark. The new technique hit harder than Thunder Shock and had a base thirty percent chance to paralyse his opponents. 

Bastion circled left while Blade tunnelled right. The bandits remained oblivious, focused on their meal.

"Now."

Blitz unleashed a barrage of Sparks, the massive arcs of electricity forcing the bandits to scatter. Their Pokemon responded immediately, Dark Pulses and Focus Blasts tearing through the air where Blitz had been moments before. But Ash was already moving.

He burst from cover as Blade erupted from the ground beneath a Machoke, Metal Claw raking across its chest. The Fighting-type staggered but recovered quickly, its fist glowing as it prepared a Counterattack. Its muscles bulged with fighting energy, promising devastating force.

"Switch!" Ash commanded. 

Blade vanished underground as Bastion charged forward. The Machoke's Counter struck Bastion's armoured body, and Payback activated instantly. Dark energy surged through Bastion's form, doubling the force of the blow and sending Machoke flying into a tree with a sickening crunch.

A Mightyena lunged for Ash's throat, fangs bared and wreathed in dark energy. He shifted into Mountain stance, energy rippling through his meridians as Mustard had taught him. The Iron Echo Shell wasn't perfect—he'd only had two weeks to practice - but it held as the Dark-type's fangs met his forearm. The force rebounded, throwing the Pokemon backwards with its own momentum. Its yelp of surprise was cut short as it crashed into two of its packmates.

Two bandits rushed him with crude clubs, trying to overwhelm him with simultaneous strikes. Ash deflected the first attack smoothly, his energy framework redirecting the impact into the ground. The second caught his shoulder as his technique faltered, sending pain shooting down his arm. He needed more practice maintaining the Shell against multiple opponents.

Blitz's Gyro Ball carved through the chaos, its metallic form becoming a lethal projectile as it scattered the remaining Pokemon. Several Poochyena went sprawling, yipping in pain and fear. A Pangoro tried retaliating with Dark Pulse, the beam of negative energy threatening to overwhelm Blitz's charge. But Bastion intercepted, its head glowing with metallic energy as it unleashed Iron Head. The Steel-type move smashed through the dark energy and struck Pangoro's chest, driving the breath from its lungs.

Ash engaged the nearest bandit, liquid metal flowing down his arm to form a gleaming gauntlet. The man's eyes widened at the sight, his guard dropping for a crucial moment. Ash's metal-clad fist struck his solar plexus with precise force, doubling him over. A quick chop to the neck with his other hand dropped the bandit unconscious.

Bastion bulldozed through the remaining Pokemon, its Steel-type moves amplified by Ash's affinity. The Aron had learned to chain Iron Head into devastating combinations, each impact flowing smoothly into the next. Even the Pangoro fell before its relentless assault, unable to withstand the barrage of steel-enhanced strikes.

Three bandits tried fleeing into the forest, abandoning their fallen comrades. Blade cut off their escape, using Rapid Spin to throw up a wall of debris and loose earth. Blitz's Thunder Shock drove them back towards the camp where Ash waited, electricity crackling between its magnets.

The first bandit swung wildly, desperation making his attacks sloppy. Ash's Iron Echo Shell activated smoothly this time, his practice showing results as he reflected the force back into the man's own arm. As the bandit stumbled, clutching his numbed limb, Ash formed a spike of liquid metal and drove it into his leg. Electricity coursed through the conductor, overloading his nervous system and dropping him instantly.

The remaining two surrendered as Bastion and Blade cornered them, the sight of their defeated companions destroying any remaining fight. Ash bound them efficiently while Blitz kept watch for any stragglers, though he doubted anyone remained conscious to attempt rescue.

"Seven camps in seven days," Ash muttered, surveying the unconscious bandits. "Getting easier each time."

He searched the camp systematically. Recent hunts had improved their teamwork and combat experience. He'd built a solid reputation in Fortree City for quick, successful hunts, largely thanks to the Giru robots making it easy to observe and raid bandit camps.

He'd found a new feature—the mask could read energy levels of humans and Pokemon through the robot's view, letting him gauge opponents' strength before engaging. One camp he'd spotted had a stage six Tempering Realm cultivator—far too strong to tackle yet.

His Pokemon had progressed well over the weeks. Blade reached level 18, though the Ground-type remained behind Blitz and Bastion at level 22 since he couldn't use Ash's Steel energy. Still, his ability to control the battlefield proved vital.

Using technical machines, he'd taught Bastion Payback and Iron Head, adding strategic depth to its moves. Bastion had also unlocked Protect, which Ash could learn once he reached stage two of the Tempering Realm.

If not for Mind Treasury, he'd have chosen to learn Protect next. But storing items in his mind palace was too useful to pass up.

After clearing the camp of loot, Ash tied the bandits up and woke them up. It would be a long trek back to Fortree City but the rewards were well worth it.      

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

Ash sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, focusing on his cultivation. The Tempering Realm worked differently from the Foundation Realm—instead of expanding his energy reserves, it refined what he already possessed. Each breath drew his existing energy through increasingly complex pathways, compressing and purifying it into a more potent form.

The process reminded him of distilling alcohol. Just as raw spirits could be refined into something purer and more powerful, his energy grew more concentrated with each cycle. This refinement would prove crucial when he reached the peak of the Tempering Realm and faced his first Tribulation—a test of power that would determine his advancement to the next realm while threatening his life.

Understanding the process had taken considerable study. Each stage of the Tempering Realm required reprocessing his energy multiple times, gradually increasing its potency. The method was slower than simply accumulating more power, but the results were undeniable. 

Energy surged through his meridians as he reached a breakthrough. The second stage of the Tempering Realm brought an immediate change—his energy felt denser and more responsive. When he summoned the liquid metal, it flowed smoothly down his right arm and halfway across his left. 

"At this rate, I should manage full coverage before the third realm," he muttered, retracting the metal beneath his skin.

Ash clenched his fist, feeling the difference in power. Mustard's body cultivation method had strengthened his physical form considerably, adding to what he gained from reaching a new stage.

He retrieved the Mind Treasury crystal from his drawer. Now that he'd reached the second stage, he could learn another technique. The expedition with James was approaching, and being able to store items in his mind palace would prove invaluable.

The crystal dissolved as he absorbed it, knowledge flooding his consciousness. As soon as he had gained an understanding of it, he entered his mind palace.  

The technique required creating a separate space within his mind palace, distinct from where his Pokemon resided. This storage space needed careful construction—improper formation could lead to items being lost or damaged.

Ash spent a few hours building the framework. He visualised a series of interconnected chambers, each reinforced with his energy to maintain stability. The space took shape slowly, requiring constant adjustments to ensure proper structure. Unlike the platforms where his Pokemon resided, these chambers needed specific properties to preserve stored items.

Testing began with small objects—a pen, a book, and his backpack. Each item had to be carefully tagged with energy before being drawn into the storage space. The first attempts failed, the items refusing to materialise properly. But gradually he developed a feel for the process, learning how much energy each object required based on its size and composition.

The technique's complexity surprised him. Creating stable storage spaces demanded precise control over his energy. Each successful storage gave him a better understanding of the technique's nuances. 

"Time to eat!" his mum called from the kitchen.

Ash found her setting the table, the aroma of curry filling the air. "How's your cultivation going?" he asked.

"Quite well," Delia replied, ladling curry over rice. "The Heal Pulse technique you bought suits me perfectly. Watch."

She touched his shoulder where a bruise had formed during training. Soft purple energy pulsed from her palm, and the pain vanished instantly. The bruise faded before his eyes, leaving unmarked skin behind.

"That's impressive," Ash said, looking at his healed shoulder. "Most cultivators need months to master a technique. You've done it in weeks."

"It feels natural," Delia said, serving herself curry. "Though I'm still at stage two of the Nascent Realm."

"No need to rush."

Delia frowned. "Given time, I could challenge the Gym Leader myself."

"But you don't need to fight."

Delia said nothing and went back to eating.

They'd argued when he'd told her about carrying her through the next gym battle. She hated him taking risks for her. But he thought it was their best chance of reaching the next floor. Unlike her, he enjoyed fighting and had advantages that improved their odds.

His mum disagreed. To his horror, she'd asked Jessie for training. The mad woman had agreed, surprisingly. The woman seemed too selfish to agree without gaining something in return. He wanted to object but his mother seemed so happy. Perhaps he'd been wrong about her dislike of fighting.

Delia now trained with Jessie daily. Ash had to hold his tongue when she came home looking battered, though at least she could heal herself.

With money from bandit hunting, he'd bought more spirit potions. He'd splashed out on intermediate-quality ones for himself, despite the cost. For his mum, he stuck to low-quality potions—she couldn't handle stronger ones yet. Even without them, the environment meant steady progress.

They ate in silence for a while before Delia spoke again. "I heard about your bandit hunting from James. Please be careful, love. Some of them are quite dangerous."

"Always am," Ash assured her. "I never take unnecessary risks."

His mother nodded, but concern lingered in her eyes. Ash changed the subject, telling her about his progress with Mind Treasury instead. He demonstrated by storing and retrieving a spoon, making her laugh.

"James also mentioned an expedition to the east," Delia said as they finished eating. 

“James talks too much,” Ash retorted. “If he comes around, don’t let him into the house.”

“That would be rude, considering how much he has helped me.”

“You’re a pushover,” Ash muttered under his breath.

"I heard that,” Delia said, giving him a light smack with a dish towel. “Will you be gone long?"

"Just a few days." Ash helped clear the table. "It's good money, and I'll get to see more of the floor."

"Just make sure you keep in touch through the Pokenav."

Ash grinned. "Yes, mum. If you don’t hear from me, I’ll likely be—”

“Don’t even say it.”

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

Ash sat in the burial chamber's control room. Since learning who had built this facility, he'd kept his distance. The thought that his ancestors had invaded another world troubled him. Though he supposed he might be descended from the Earth people instead.

The history he'd discovered raised uncomfortable questions. Had the Pokemon truly been invaders, or were they fleeing something worse? Dr Malcolm's recordings painted them as conquerors, but he'd only seen one side of the story. Perhaps there was more to it than simple invasion.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. The past was the past—what mattered was the present. Still, he couldn't help wondering if there were other facilities like this one scattered throughout the Tower, holding more pieces of their forgotten history.

He browsed through the video files. Most of them remained locked behind passwords, but a few entries were accessible.

He selected one titled "First Successful Bond - Test Subject 17". 

Dr Malcolm appeared on screen. Behind him, a teenage boy sat in a medical bay, electrodes attached to his temples and chest.

"Day 47 of human-Pokemon bonding trials," Malcolm began. "Previous attempts failed due to rejection syndrome. Subjects 1 through 16 experienced severe neural trauma when the bond formed. Subject 12 fell into a coma and had to be terminated. But Subject 17's neural patterns show promising compatibility with the test specimen."

The camera panned to show a Magnemite hovering nearby. The Pokemon's single eye tracked the boy's movements with obvious interest. Unlike wild Magnemite, this one bore markings suggesting extensive modification—additional sensors and what looked like energy dampeners attached to its magnets.

"The bonding process mirrors what we've observed in their trainers," Malcolm continued, gesturing to various readouts. "Their method creates a crude but effective neural bridge, allowing energy transfer and basic communication. However, our method allows precise control over the connection's strength. We can regulate energy flow, prevent psychological bleed-through, even sever the bond if necessary."

Malcolm adjusted something off-screen. "Subject 17, initiate test sequence alpha."

The boy raised his hand. The Magnemite responded instantly, electricity arcing between them in controlled bursts. The display showed energy readings spiking in perfect synchronisation.

"Remarkable," Malcolm muttered. "The neural interface is maintaining stability at 87% —far beyond previous attempts. Note how the subject retains full consciousness and motor control, unlike the seizures observed in earlier trials."

Ash frowned. The terminology was different, but they'd been studying cultivation techniques, trying to understand the fundamental mechanics of Pokemon bonds. He switched to another file, this one showing the factory floor in full operation.

"Production has reached optimal levels," a woman in a lab coat reported, standing amid rows of assembly lines. "The R-06 units demonstrate a 98% success rate in infiltration scenarios. However, power consumption remains problematic. Current energy cells only maintain stealth capabilities for approximately six hours."

The footage showed dozens of spherical robots rolling off the production line, each one activating its cloaking technology before being loaded into storage containers. Unlike his Giru units, these models appeared more streamlined, with additional features he didn't recognise.

He found several more fragments of information—staff logs, maintenance reports, and security briefings. Each piece painted a clearer picture of the facility's purpose. They hadn't just been studying Pokemon—they'd been systematically reverse-engineering every aspect of Pokemon abilities and energy manipulation, trying to understand and replicate powers that had nearly destroyed their civilisation.

It seemed everything they were doing was in the service of some greater purpose. Were they trying to finish the weapon they had started building before Earth was destroyed? Had they completed it? From the hints he had got from exploring, it seemed they had, and ultimately regretted it. 

If there was any information on this secret weapon in the video files, he would need to find the passwords. He tried several combinations but gave up after the third failed attempt. 

“Maybe they are deliberately teasing me by withholding information,” Ash muttered. 

Ash got up from his seat and returned to the museum. 

The steel board waited in its display case. Ash lifted it carefully, noting how heavy it was to carry. He'd been practising by manipulating smaller pieces of the facility's metal, learning how it differed from his Steelium. Now it was time to practice with something much heavier. 

Setting the board on the ground, Ash concentrated. The metal responded instantly, lifting a few inches before wobbling. He adjusted his output, remembering how the facility's steel required more precise control than Steelium.

"Steady now," he whispered as the board rose higher. It reached waist height and stabilised, floating motionless in the air.

Ash placed one foot on the surface. The board dipped slightly but held. Encouraged, he shifted his full weight onto it. For a moment everything seemed perfect—then his concentration slipped.

The board shot sideways, dumping him unceremoniously onto the floor. He landed hard, cursing as pain shot through his hip.

"Right then," he muttered, climbing to his feet. "Need more practice."

He spent another hour working with the board, gradually improving his control. By the end, he could maintain stable hovering, though actual movement remained challenging.

Ash grinned. True flight might be beyond him for now, but soaring through the air on a board seemed far cooler than riding a Pokemon. The image spurred him to improve.

He'd considered crafting a flying board from his Steelium, but preferred saving it for combat. The factory held plenty of steel—learning to control it would prove useful. Besides, mastering the factory's metal would give him more options in battle. No need to waste his precious Steelium when alternatives existed.

He studied the board one last time before tucking it away. Its design was elegant—all smooth lines and precise engineering. Once he worked out how to control it properly, he'd have a significant advantage over other cultivators. Most relied on Pokemon for aerial mobility, leaving them vulnerable if separated from their partners.

He grabbed the board and left. Best get some sleep—tomorrow's expedition would start early. Whatever James had planned, Ash wanted to be sharp and ready for it.

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

The lift descended smoothly through the massive tree trunk. When it reached the forest floor, Ash spotted a line of reinforced vehicles waiting nearby. Their armoured shells gleamed in the early morning light, heavy metal plates bolted across vulnerable points.

James stood beside the lead vehicle, twirling a rose between his fingers. Jessie leaned against the bonnet, her pink hair as gravity-defying as ever.

"You're late," Jessie snapped. 

"Good morning to you too," Ash replied, heading for the boot of their vehicle. 

He stowed his pack in the boot, though his most valuable supplies sat safely in his Mind Palace. No sense in advertising that particular ability unless necessary.

He counted the people milling about. There were fifteen people, a mix of scientists of cultivators. He wondered where they were going. James had yet to share the details with him. Maybe he should have asked for more details before agreeing.  

Climbing into the back seat, Ash found himself between James and Jessie. James signalled the driver, and the convoy rumbled into motion.

"Right then," Ash said as they followed the road cutting through the forest. "Care to tell me what this is really about?"

James tucked his rose into his lapel. "Miners have uncovered some ruins in the eastern quarries but they were attacked by Pokemon before they could explore it."

"And the Pokemon problem?"

"They appear to be protecting the ruins," Jessie cut in. "They've destroyed key machinery and killed several workers."

"That's where you come in," James added. "We need those machines repaired before we can properly investigate the ruins. We have another mechanic but he cannot do all the work by himself."

"What kind of Pokemon are we dealing with?"

"Durant," James replied. "Savage little buggers when they work together. They've taken over the lower mining levels."

"Steel-types." Ash frowned. "They aren’t going to be easy.”

"That's why we brought help." Jessie gestured at the convoy behind them. "The cultivators aren't just for show."

They drove in silence for a while, the forest sliding past their windows. Massive trees rose on either side, their trunks wider than houses. Occasionally, wild Pokemon darted across the road—mostly small creatures that fled at the convoy's approach.

"There's something else," Ash said. "What aren't you telling me?"

James and Jessie exchanged glances.

"The ruins," James said carefully. "Whenever one is uncovered, it causes an uproar. I would be very surprised if others haven’t caught wind of it.”

“I the ruins the only reason for this expedition?” Ash asked. 

James shook his head. “Jessie and I co-own the mines. We are merely looking out for our interests. If we discover something valuable in the ruins, it will be a bonus.”

After three hours, the forest began to thin. Soon they emerged onto vast plains stretching to the horizon. Fields of wheat and other crops spread in neat sections, broken by the occasional farmhouse or barn. The morning sun painted everything in soft golden light.

James's Pokenav buzzed. He answered, his expression darkening as he listened.

"Problem?" Jessie asked when he hung up.

"We've got company," James replied. "Someone else is heading for the ruins."

"Who?" Ash asked.

James didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward to speak to the driver. "Step on it. We need to reach the quarry before sunset."

"James," Ash pressed. "Who else knows about these ruins?"

James remained silent. 

The convoy picked up speed, kicking up dust clouds as they raced across the plains. Farmhouses grew scarcer, replaced by wild grassland that swayed in the wind.

A low rumbling caught Ash's attention. At first, he thought it was thunder, but the sound grew steadily closer.

"Stop the convoy!" he shouted.

The vehicles screeched to a halt. In the sudden silence, the rumbling became unmistakable. The ground began to shake.

"There!" A cultivator shouted from another vehicle, pointing south.

A massive herd of Tauros thundered across the plains, hundreds of the bull Pokemon moving as one. Their hooves kicked up clouds of dust as they charged directly towards the convoy.

"Bloody hell," Ash muttered. "That's not normal behaviour."

"They're being driven," James said. "Something's forcing them this way."

Jessie's Arbok materialised beside the vehicle, hood flaring as it prepared for battle. Other cultivators released their Pokemon, forming a defensive line.

The Tauros showed no signs of changing course. If anything, they seemed to be picking up speed.

"We need to split the herd," James shouted to the other vehicles. "Or they'll trample us flat!"

Through the dust cloud, Ash caught glimpses of movement behind the stampeding Tauros. Something or someone was coordinating this attack, but the chaos made it impossible to see clearly.

"This isn't random," he said. "Someone knew exactly where we'd be."

The first wave of Tauros slammed into the cultivators' Pokemon line. The plains erupted into chaos as the massive bulls crashed through their defences. Vehicles swerved to avoid the onslaught, metal screaming as horns scraped against reinforced panels.

Ash grabbed the door handle as their driver yanked the wheel hard left. Through the windscreen, he spotted more shapes moving through the grass on either side of the convoy. Whatever was controlling the Tauros had them surrounded.

"James," he shouted over the din. "We need to—"

The rest of his words were lost as something massive struck their vehicle from the side. Metal crumpled like paper as they rolled, the world spinning in a blur of sky and earth. The last thing Ash saw before everything went black was a figure standing in the grass, watching them through the dust.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Ash and the convey have a fight on their hands.

Thanks for reading.