By morning, the ring was just dirt again.
No more claw marks. No more blood trails. No more training dummies lashed to trees. The tarp was packed, the fire was buried, and the only evidence they'd ever been here was a slight depression in the undergrowth and a few too many crushed pinecones.
Orion didn't look back as he slung his pack over his shoulder and stepped onto the trail.
"Let's see if I still remember how to walk like a civilized idiot."
Tyrunt grunted and followed, tail sweeping sideways to smack a branch out of the way with more force than necessary.
Turtwig fell in line without a sound, but Orion could tell from the stiffness in his legs and the faint glow in his shell that something had shifted. The little tank had been absorbing more energy with less effort each morning—like his leaf was syncing with the sun on a deeper rhythm.
Orion made a mental note.
Evolution signs: check.
Great. Because the last thing he wanted was to walk into a Grass-type Gym with a Grass-type starter and have him level up in the middle of a strategy meeting.
The road—or what passed for one—was still more animal trail than highway.
They'd gone off-grid for too long. The League-maintained routes had warning signs, battle zones, rest stops. This path had none of that. Just roots, mud, and a particularly vengeful squirrel Pokémon that tried to kamikaze Tyrunt and ended up getting punted into a bush.
After half an hour, Orion muttered, "Yeah, I missed this."
Tyrunt chuffed and glanced back with a look that read: You didn't.
Turtwig didn't react at all. But Orion noticed he'd begun walking slightly ahead of him, leaf higher, posture more alert. It wasn't a dominance thing. It was… readiness. Like his body was tuning itself for something bigger.
Orion narrowed his eyes.
He remembered the evolution profile. Turtwig would bulk up fast in the first phase, gain better root control, and start learning to internalize photosynthesis. The shell would deepen. The leaf might split or shift.
And he'd get slow.
Not slower than a log—but definitely not the nimble little wedge of armor he was now.
If they were fighting in tight terrain soon, that could be a problem.
He sighed.
"Great. A Grass Gym coming up, and my best matchup is about to get heavier and more plant-like. This'll go fine."
Tyrunt snapped a stick underfoot with a little too much satisfaction.
By midmorning, they found a slope that led down into a shallower basin—wider trail, clearer sky, and to Orion's brief amazement, an actual League route marker sticking out of the ground like a forgotten grave.
He kicked the weeds off it and squinted at the numbers etched into the rusted plate.
Eterna City – 8 Days by foot. 6 by cart. 4 by League shuttle (if you're rich).
He snorted.
"Cool. Just eight days and a few thousand calories."
He glanced back at his partners.
Turtwig was feeding again—his shell subtly glowing as he absorbed morning energy from a patch of flowering clover. The wild color in his leaf looked more saturated than yesterday. Brighter.
And Tyrunt?
Tyrunt was biting a rock.
Again.
"Seriously?" Orion walked over. "Haven't you done enough jaw stress testing for one week?"
Tyrunt ignored him and pawed the dirt around the stone. Then, with surprising precision, he tapped one claw to the edge of a different stone and tried to wedge it into position.
Orion froze.
"You're… stacking."
He crouched beside him, watching carefully.
Tyrunt was organizing rocks. Not randomly. Deliberately.
Like a pattern. Like he was preparing a… trap.
"Holy hell," Orion whispered. "You're trying to figure out Stealth Rock."
Tyrunt turned to look at him, tail flicking.
Not in confusion.
In challenge.
Orion blinked once.
"Okay. Yeah. Sure. We'll just casually master an entry hazard move in the wild after a week of rock throwing. Totally normal."
But it made sense.
Stealth Rock wasn't about throwing rocks.
It was about placing energy-anchored markers in a zone—embedded with Rock-type resonance, tied to proximity triggers.
And Tyrunt already understood how to channel Rock energy.
He just had to understand how to leave it behind.
That would be harder.
Orion reached into his bag and scribbled a quick note.
Tyrunt – Stealth Rock potential (investigate trap sensitivity drills?)
They walked until early afternoon, when the sun grew just annoying enough to make Orion reconsider whether wearing black was really worth it.
Answer: it wasn't.
He peeled off his outer shirt, tied it around his waist, and let the breeze do its thing.
Turtwig didn't slow.
If anything, he seemed to draw more energy the longer they were exposed. His steps had a new weight to them, not tiredness—more like expansion. Orion watched the way his shell shifted ever so slightly as he moved, like it was reforming.
He knew the signs.
This wasn't just energy saturation.
This was the beginning of pre-evolution tension.
Internal restructuring. Growth plate pressure. Energy buildup.
"Yup," Orion muttered. "You're about to turn into a boulder with legs and a bush on your back. Cool. Love that for us."
He glanced up the trail.
Grass Gym first. Maybe evolution after.
Or during.
Depending on how much sun he ate between now and then.
They camped just off the trail near an old birch grove.
No battles.
No drills.
But Orion still made Tyrunt repeat his Rock Throw on moving branches, just to confirm his aim hadn't dulled during the hike. He hit five out of six.
Then he tried to bury a stone and mark it with his claws.
Orion whistled low.
"Seriously. You're not just learning Stealth Rock. You're reverse engineering it."
He tossed him a meat ration as a reward.
Tyrunt ignored it and kept drawing lines in the dirt.
Orion made a new note in his journal:
Build a trap-sensing training ring. Borrow ideas from trapper Guild guides. Focus on energy anchoring.
He stared at the page.
Then turned to a fresh sheet and wrote across the top:
MONEY.
He underlined it three times.
Not now. But soon.
If Turtwig evolved, he'd have to start investing in energy optimization—maybe Giga Drain instead of Mega Drain, if he could find someone to teach the move
But that wasn't free.
Nothing was.
He wrote:
Sell foraged healing roots?
Offer battle tutoring?
Find League trainer bounty board
Beat a few solo trainers on the road?
He chewed the end of his pen.
Then added:
Don't die while trying to pay for things
Good advice.
That night, as the stars came out and the sky turned from amber to cobalt, Orion leaned back against his pack and stared into the treetops.
Turtwig lay curled by the fire, leaf twitching gently. His shell gave off a faint, constant warmth now.
Tyrunt paced once, then settled beside the outer ring, eyes still scanning the brush.
No predators came.
No shiny distractions.
Just firelight, forest, and the slow return to momentum.
Orion exhaled.
They weren't survivors anymore.
They were travelers again.
And that meant moving forward.