The moonlight was obscured by thick volcanic ash; only the distant dark red lava flows cast a singular light source upon this deathly silent mountain path, dragging human shadows into distorted, elongated shapes.
The surroundings were terrifyingly quiet, save for the mountain wind wailing as it scraped past jagged rocks, sounding like the whispers of some monster.
Ariel had just recalled his Poké Ball, and the slight satisfaction of victory in battle quickly cooled in this eerie atmosphere.
It was an old man, not particularly tall, wearing a simple long robe of gray linen that looked completely out of place in this desolate environment.
He stood quietly in the middle of the road, perfectly centered, blocking the only way forward.
An old man appearing in the middle of the night on a deserted volcanic mountain path?
Ariel's gaze instantly turned cold.
His muscles tensed subconsciously, and his fingers quietly rested on the Poké Ball at his waist. This was not a place where an ordinary old man should appear.
He sized up the other party carefully.
The old man's face was crisscrossed with deep furrows, each wrinkle seeming like a medal personally carved by time.
His hair and beard were both graying, but his back was held straight as a ramrod, showing none of the frailty of an ordinary elder.
What caught Ariel's attention most were those eyes.
They were cloudy, yet hidden within was an imperceptible sharp light, as if they could see through one's heart.
An invisible pressure bore down on him.
Warning bells rang in Ariel's mind; he was certain this old man was no simple person, and his strength was likely far beyond his own.
He suspected the man's background might be quite significant.
"Old Sir, it is so late; what brings you here?"
Ariel took two steps forward, maintaining a safe distance that allowed for both offense and defense, and spoke first with the respect due to an elder.
Probing was the only thing he could do right now.
The old man did not answer immediately. His deep eyes slowly swept over the Poké Balls at Ariel's waist, and finally, his gaze landed on Ariel's face.
"Weavile, Krokorok, Malamar."
The old man's voice was somewhat raspy, as if worn down by sand and wind for a long time; it wasn't loud, yet it reached Ariel's ears clearly.
"It seems you are a Trainer specializing in the Dark-type."
His gaze was full of scrutiny, calm as a pool of deep water, betraying no emotion.
Ariel's heart sank.
The other party had named his three main Pokémon in one go, which meant his previous battle had likely been watched from start to finish by this old man.
The Weavile that had one-shot a Houndoom, the Malamar whose level had caught up, and the veteran Krokorok—these were his current trump cards.
Having one's trump cards seen through in front of such a mysterious powerhouse was not a good thing.
"The Old Sir has a keen eye."
Ariel's face remained impassive.
"May I ask, is there a problem with specializing in Dark-type Pokémon?"
The old man slowly shook his head, and the cane in his hand tapped lightly on the ground with a soft 'thud'.
"There is nothing wrong with Dark-type Pokémon. They have firm wills, resort to any means for victory, and offer absolute obedience to their Trainer's commands. For certain Trainers, they are an excellent choice."
The old man's tone suddenly shifted.
"However, young man, I simply feel that you are somewhat out of the ordinary."
Out of the ordinary!
Those words were like a needle, instantly piercing Ariel's most sensitive nerve.
This was what he dreaded most.
As an undercover agent burdened with a secret mission for Team Rockets, most of the time he needed to be ordinary—or rather, blend into the crowd—except for when he needed to stand out.
Being 'out of the ordinary' meant the risk of exposure.
Had he slipped up somewhere?
Or did this old man... see through his identity as a member of Team Rockets?
In an instant, a cold killing intent uncontrollably surfaced in Ariel's heart.
Should he make a move?
If he caught him off guard and had Weavile and Malamar attack simultaneously, there might be a chance... This thought lasted less than half a second before he forcibly suppressed it.
No!
The old man before him felt unfathomable, like a bottomless abyss.
If he acted rashly and failed, the consequences would be unimaginable.
If he met his downfall here, his path to becoming stronger would completely vanish into thin air.
Calm down, he had to stay calm.
Ariel took a deep breath, smoothing over his surging emotions, his face returning to its humble and polite mask.
"The Old Sir must be joking. I am just an ordinary traveling Trainer, nothing out of the ordinary."
The atmosphere on the mountain path became somewhat oppressive, with only the sound of the wind circling between the two.
The old man seemed to see through Ariel's disguise, yet also seemed not to; he simply stared at Ariel for a long time.
"How about this, young man."
The old man finally spoke again, breaking the silence.
"Have a spar with this old man. If you have the courage, I will let you pass through here and enter Lavaridge Town."
A spar?
Ariel sneered inwardly.
This was no spar; it was clearly a deeper probe.
It would be fine with an average Trainer, but if the opponent was a calculating old fox, it was a different story.
Once they battled, his command style, Pokémon move sets, combat habits, and even his deliberate disguises might be completely figured out by the opponent.
"The Old Sir is joking."
Ariel cupped his hands, firmly refusing.
"This junior's strength is meager; how could I be qualified to spar with a senior like you? If entering Lavaridge Town requires such a rule, then this junior will not disturb you further and will visit another day instead."
As he spoke, he actually turned sideways, intending to bypass the man via the side of the mountain path without the slightest hesitation.
The more one does, the more mistakes one makes.
Facing such a powerhouse of unknown origin, avoiding battle was the most prudent choice.
Watching Ariel's unruffled and even impenetrable demeanor, the doubt in the old man's cloudy eyes deepened.
Too calm.
He was too calm for a young man.
With the aggressive stance he had just taken, any other Trainer of the same age with some strength would have either hot-headedly accepted the challenge or spoken back with resentment.
But the youth before him kept his composure and responded flawlessly, like a veteran who had walked on the edge of a blade for years.
If this had been some time ago, he might have only praised him, saying 'this child will surely achieve great things'.
But during this sensitive period, such a young, powerful Trainer who specialized in the Dark-type and was terrifyingly calm appearing near Lavaridge Town... this in itself was highly suspicious.
"Young man, don't be in such a hurry to leave."
Just as Ariel was about to brush past him, the old man's raspy voice rang out again.
Ariel paused and looked sideways at the old man, his gaze now completely cold.
"What is the meaning of this, Old Sir? Must you insist on forcing my hand?"
"Hehe."
The old man let out a low chuckle that sounded particularly eerie on the empty mountain path.
"It's not about forcing anyone; it's just that this old man's hands are a bit itchy and I want to find someone to stretch my bones with."
He paused, lifting his eyelids to stare at Ariel with burning intensity.
"Besides, my Houndoom also happens to want to play a bit with your Weavile."
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