After finishing his one-week long teaching post, Silas returned to the Pokémon Center.
Each day, he continued his routine of training his partners and studying breeder knowledge.
Before leaving, the Academy awarded him a special reward for his service-
a universal recipe for crafting intermediate Dark-type Pokéblocks.
Silas accepted it with care. For him, this wasn't just payment-it was a vital tool. The ability to craft specialized Dark-type Pokéblocks could boost Murkrow's potential enormously, while also marking another step in his path as a true breeder.
...
Inside a sealed training chamber, Silas gave a sharp order.
"Murkrow, use Haze!"
"Mur-kroww~"
The black crow Pokémon, weighted down with training gear, flapped its wings. A hoarse cry escaped from its beak as ,burst a cloud of thick, black mist, filling the room completely.
Dark, oppressive, unnatural-yet under control.
The skill -Haze-reset the abilities of any Pokémon that inhaled it, erasing stat boosts. A perfect counter against Abilities like Moxie or moves like Swords Dance.
For Murkrow, it was a priority to master. With its Prankster Ability, it could execute status moves faster than most foes, giving it a decisive edge.
Silas observed quietly from the corner. As the energy faded, the dark mist dispersed into nothingness.
"Alright, Murkrow, return."
"Kroww!"
The crow cawed hoarsely, swooping down to perch on Silas's shoulder. It puffed its chest, clearly proud.
A rare softness flickered across Silas's expression. He stroked its feathers. "Well done. But remember-don't neglect flight training while focusing on new skills."
Recently, Murkrow had adapted well to varied air currents, even managing to fly against gusts from Fearow's wingbeats. But its maneuvering in tight terrain was lacking. In obstacles and cluttered areas, its speed plummeted and more than once it nearly crashed.
.....
Silas turned toward the far corner of the room."Crawdaunt. How's your Dragon Dance coming along?"
The lobster Pokémon hammered a sandbag with brutal force, claws striking in rhythm. At his trainer's words, it stopped, scuttling over on short legs. Closing its eyes, it drew on Dragon-type energy.
Seconds passed. Crawdaunt's body began to sway, its claws slicing in a strange rhythm. Purple-red energy rippled outward as the Dragon Dance succeeded, its aura climbing.
Silas's lips curved slightly. "Good. Much smoother than before. Dragon Dance will be the core of your training from now on. Master this."
He quickly set the timer on his Pokédex.
Dragon Dance required practice on three fronts:
1. How quickly it could be performed.
2. How much strength it added.
3. How long the buff could be sustained.
The second required lab instruments, so for now Silas tracked the first and third.
Seconds ticked in the quiet room.Crawdaunt's aura rose, held, then wavered. After nearly a minute,the energy collapsed and bled away.
"Forty-seven seconds," Silas noted with satisfaction. "The first time, you lasted barely twenty. Already doubled in less than two weeks."
In barely ten days, the progress was remarkable. He rewarded Crawdaunt with restorative Pokéblocks, already planning the next phase.
...
At sunset, he signed out of the training chamber and paid the overtime fee. Even as an officially recognized breeder, special facilities like these carried costs. Abundant energy reserves and reinforced walls didn't come cheap.
That night, lying in his dorm bed, Silas suddenly sat up, smacking his thigh.
"…Murkrow and Eevee still haven't tasted blood."
His expression hardened. A pirate's life had carved his worldview- his Crawdaunt and Sharpedo had grown strong drenched in real battle, their claws and fangs sharpened through blood and fire.
But Murkrow and Eevee were different. Both had joined him later, after he'd started traveling on land.Neither had yet seen real bloodshed.
And it showed.
"No wonder Murkrow doesn't fit in with the others," he murmured. "It hasn't had the baptism of blood."
Eevee could get by on charm, basking in affection as the team's mascot. But a crow Pokémon? Cunning, solitary, prideful-it couldn't bridge the gap so easily. Sometimes, Murkrow seemed almost aloof, trusting no and only bonding with Silas himself.
As thoughts tangled, sleep finally claimed him. Eevee stirred at his side, disturbed by his sudden movements. Seeing nothing amiss, she curled tighter, tail wrapped snugly around her body, her little head resting against Silas's shoulder as she drifted back into dreams.
....
The next morning, dawn broke over Rustboro's eastern outskirts. A boy in dark adventurer's clothes walked with steady strides, his black hair falling over sharp features.
Paired with warm colors, his face might have looked gentle but clad in cold black, even with an Cute Eevee walking beside him, his aura was stark, almost unsettling.
Silas left Rustboro at daybreak, aiming for the wilderness. He had accepted several League missions along the way-practical work to sharpen his team and earn Money.
Nearby, two exploration sites stood out: Petalburg Woods and Rusturf Tunnel.
"Rusturf Tunnel," Silas muttered, recalling what he'd read. "Once mined by Devon Corp, abandoned for reasons unknown. Now open to trainers for exploration. They say there are stones inside-sometimes even high-grade Evolution Stones hidden among common rock."
The place had become a gambler's paradise. Prospectors and thrill-seekers flocked there, and even a stone-gambling market had sprung up outside the tunnel, selling chunks of ore to hopeful buyers.
A harsh cry cut through the sky.
Silas looked up. Murkrow descended in a swift dive, black wings spread wide. Wind gusted past as the bird landed on his outstretched arm, cawing rapidly. Its wings beat in short, sharp gestures.
"kraw… kraw!"
Silas frowned, half-understanding. He reached for the small camera tied to Murkrow's neck and switched on the recording, scanning the footage of the path ahead.
What awaited inside Rusturf Tunnel… only time would tell.
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(End of chapter)