Chapter VII: Zangoose in Sevipers' Nest

2nd Cycle, Water-Type Month, 1191 AAD

The Underground, Gongson Prefecture

On New Year's Day the warriors dragged him into the Shaolin's underground city. Most of its hallways were bricked up, but the prison room was kept. PW's cell was suffocatingly small; a standing coffin made of tough agron hide. It had two doors, the first opening it fully, the second being a small feeding hatch. Thankfully, he was let out from sunrise to sunset, to do hard labour.

In the meantime, a question roused the peasants and nobles alike. Should they punish or pardon the child of the enemy? Naturally, Her Majesty had to answer. This morning, rather than the wobuffet guards, she released him from his cell. PW stomped out, jostling his chains, his specie's mean expression on his face. Coming from his dark cell to the bright torches confused his eyes.

"Face me and be quiet!" She shouted. PW complied. "You wanted something fun to do? Well, congratulations! You are now the grave sweeper of Renqu Prefecture. I've warned the townsfolk. Choose a family and go in their home!"

PW smiled. The last time he saw the dewott, he was buried up to the neck for some sort of sick ritual. This was a large step up. Her Majesty took a key and unlocked the gag from his mouth.

"Why don't we do this fairly?!" He taunted. "You ARE a wanna-be fighting type, right? Let's see if you can cut it! I'll battle you here and now!" He aggressively lashed his chains at her just as Augustine would. She gave him little more than a cold stare, the sort of a scientists examining a colony of bacteria. "Come on, cookie! That's your name right?! Let's battle!"

"I have given you what you will get." She said.

He bowed, but only to mock her. "Regardless, I will remember you!"

She clapped, summoning three from a nearby antechamber. There were the two wobuffet guards and then a new prisoner, a munchlax. Priest Glut had not the strength to even look up. The shame of punishment sapped his spirit out.

"Dishonorable priest, explain to this child what your choice earned you."

"The celebrations are officially finished, so this slave must swap places with you, PW. I will be imprisoned half a year. Because this is my only chance, I should educate-"

"Half a year?!" PW blurted. "Sorry, continue, water-man!"

"My name is Glut, formerly from the First Order of the Ministry of Prayer."

"I'm sorry."

"It is this lowly slave who should be sorry. I misinterpreted the Promise. I had never even asked your name. At the time I thought there simply would never be a chance to use it. I must still educate you about the Way of Heaven. It is my duty as a former priest, and you cannot live with us if you do not understand how the Weather Trio acts."

Her Royal Majesty cut into the conversation. "He is Shaolin, Glut. You may preach but he will hear nothing. That being said, he can have a summary. Weasel, we are Tusayo!" She stated firmly. "We belief our spirits resemble the sun or the moon. If we balance our hearts to make them resemble both, our souls will reincarnate as ghosts, and upon His summoning, we shall merge with Him! You may practice your 'religion', or believe nothing, but you will respect our customs!"

"What customs?" PW asked.

She crossed her arms. "Go learn for yourself!"

With a simple hand gesture from her, the guards arranged for the prisoners to be swapped. When the wobuffet released PW from his chains, they gave him the priest's oar. It was a heap of glistening bronze, its handle carved beautifully in Little Seal script. PW looked towards the empress, unsure of why he was granted it, but she gave him a light nod.

PW turned one last time to Glut. "I'll pray for you, brother!"

Glut nodded. As PW walked out, the wobuffet violently stuffed Glut through the prison door and slammed it shut.

Vineway Village, Renqu Prefecture

A map on a sign taught him that this prefecture was in the southern part of the country. To its right was the 'Gongsun' prefecture, and to the left was 'Xin'. The Renqu prefecture was known for its Vineway River. This river was covered with tight-knit vines weaving on either side of the riverbank like laces to a shoe. Years ago, this was done in an effort to cleanse the water of blood and ash. Vineway Village itself was but a blip. In five minutes, one could walk from one end to the other. It held so little national significance that the builders did not even construct a city wall for it. The locals rarely shut the windows to their run-down homes due to the tropical heat.

PW remained hidden in the humid bushes. He began window shopping in a sense, hoping to spot a family made of friendly pokemon. Whilst searching, he overheard a massive thump. A large staraptor landed upon a thatch roof at the edge of the village. With the bird was a liepard. She interrogated the family inside. Her rougher words echoed like a tiger's roars.

PW groaned. He suspected Her Majesty tricked him but this was far worse than he thought. A liepard could stalk him into the distortion realm. The staraptor would be her eyes the entire time. He ignored this for now. It turned out the walls of the home closest to him were so thin he could hear the pokemon inside.

"My friends, I have a gift from New Year's." The voice was in singsong. PW figured this to be a bird pokemon.

"Why'd you wait so long to show us?" This one he knew from experience: a chesnaught.

"If I wait, it becomes a birthday gift, too! It is more economical." Wrapping paper ripped in two, faint tuffs of fibre-dust fluttering in the air. Veins thumped harder when the present revealed its identity.

"That! That's," another one panicked, dropping something heavy. "She's going to pick the flesh off our bones!" The panicked voice no doubt belonging to a prey item. But it was the tremble in the bird's voice that worried PW.

"I-Impossible! Blackthorn himself ushered it to me as a gift!"

A bidoof poked his head out the window. As soon as he saw the liepard, the beaver leaped out the window and ran. "Mauvelyn heard us! Damn it! Damn it!" He shouted.

Loose pieces of straw and dust fell off the roof as the staraptor landed upon it. There was a knock. The chesnaught opened his door with an agonizing creak. The liepard's intonation was clam but firm; she spoke as if knowing the conclusion to everything they would say. "Gentlemen, mind telling me why you have my daughter's bird whistle?"

Meanwhile, the staraptor and PW locked eyes. The bird pinned him to the ground before he could flee. "Flockmistress! They hid the mienfoo behind their home! I've caught him!"

The liepard trotted gleefully to PW. She held a steady gaze, accented by her white face paint. Then, she pounced out of sight, leaving only her booming voice. "Royal Starling! Commence combat with him! Reveal his clan's offensive styles!"

"As you say!"

Battle! PW vs The Royal Starling-

The staraptor's massive wings blew everything backward as he took to the skies. PW ran to Vineway River. By the time he looked up, the staraptor was a shrinking spec of silver. Just as PW readied his oar for battle, the door to that same home burst open.

"Drifter, I must regain my honor!" Another bird rocketed into the skies: a talonflame. "Royal Starling, I shall aid you, together we will quell him!"

"Stupendous," the other raptor squawked loudly. "Hear that, monk? I hope the Shaolin are more than target practice these days!"

PW did indeed hear them.

They soared high, then dropped like weights. In three seconds two multi-hundred-kilometer-an-hour killing machines would eviscerate him. The mienfoo's mind raced through the book of theoretical strategies he studied back in his temple. He recalled a tactic in which two or more flying types would dive in tandem. The first would force prey to evade, the second would smack them with a powerful move. Therefore, he needed to separate the pair.

He heard a water current under him. PW thought the vineway was only a footpath, but he quickly pieced two and two together. He slammed his fist into the vines, forcing a curtain of plant debris and water high into the air. The talonflame barely managed to peel off, but the staraptor had flown straight through. The debris bit his eyes; he could no longer see accurately. Even so, they had a better tactic: fire. PW knew the talonflame would use it eventually, so he rushed into the forest. He hoped they would not risk burning their homeland, but he was mistaken. Judging by their screeching calls, they would carpet the entire forest if they had to.

PW sprinted through the bamboo shoots, watching the staraptor slowly gain on him from overhead. Seeing no sign of the talonflame, he feared very much that the bird was gaining altitude for a lethally quick dive. The only way to stop himself from burning alive was to hold the Royal Starling hostage. Thankfully, he heard a sound like the constant thud of a hand fan—a tell that one of them began to hover. The staraptor flew close and low, hovering nearby so his battle partner could know precisely where to dive.

However, he was a tad too close.

PW hurled up a tree and used a branch to catapult himself high up. From the Royal Starling's perspective, a random tree shivered violently and hurled a mienfoo towards him at bullet speed. PW grabbed a fistful of feathers and swung onto the staraptor's back. He smacked his foe's skull with the oar, knocking him out. Just before landing, PW jumped off, leaving the staraptor to crash a short walk away. Looking with his ears, PW heard the air tear apart from above and behind. A well-timed attack.

However, PW was gifted with a rapid mind and a body to match.

It was fast as a blink. The frightened mienfoo snapped around on his heels and flicked the oar at his foe. A bone-shaking crack! echoed through the woods. The fire-flying type crashed landed, a trail of embers falling upon his body.

He was not free yet. The woods filled with a whistle imitating the call of a honchkrow. For a moment, all was peaceful, then a hundred mukrow dominated the skies. They stuffed the treetops around him, blotting out the sun, trapping him in a forest of shadows. PW went to run, but the liepard blocked his escape. The sunlight died as it hit her black robes. They laid flush across her body and were tucked into her jika-tabi. She paced in a circle around him.

"All rage but no range just as the rest...Astounding reflexes, though. Who is your master?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!?"

She giggled. "You're unfamiliar so I'll tell let you in on a secret. You can't say no to me."

He cocked his head. "No."

She giggled evilly.

Battle! PW vs The Royal Geisha-

She morphed into the shadows. PW tried to keep an ear out, though struggled to hear through the murkrows' unending noise. A sharp whirr rushed through the air behind his right shoulder, one far louder than the cawing. He ducked forward, spun on his heels, and attempted to dodge the tail whip, but there was nothing. For a moment he stood motionless, puzzled. He flinched. It was but a moment, but by the time PW recovered, her real tail smacked him so hard that the collision made a real cracking noise. PW fell in a cloud of leaves and grit. His battle was through.

Mauvelyn had signaled one of her murkrow to expertly fake the sound. The liepard quickly claimed her prey. She stood her two front feet onto his cheekbones. She wiggled a claw into his tear ducts. "Have you heard of the move called Krookodile Tears?" She asked.

Clouds of red and green danced along his vision. Mauvelyn concussed him, confused him. He replied but was incoherent. Mauvelyn took his grumble as a sign of stubborn struggle. She grinned eagerly, leaning her face uncomfortably close to his. "I could have your eyes at any moment. Maybe, two more pebbles worth more weight? You'll be crying blood tonight if you don't happen to tell me who your master is!"

The syllables drunkenly stumbled onto his tongue. "S-Sun Chenjiu..."

Mauvelyn chortled from the depths of her stomach. His answer was utterly worthless. Instead she had conquered him, broke him, just like her opponents in the Old War. "Listen very closely, PW. We exterminated the Shaolin because they were inferior. You aren't special." The liepard stepped off his face and left.

Minutes passed. The neighborhood was gone, save for a single family. Two ekans, a drowse, and an old chesnaught chatted as they examined the grisly remains of the battle. If they did not know better, they might have thought PW put himself to rest. He laid in a bed of soft leaves, his paws on his chest, and a swollen blunt force wound on his temple. The only sign of life within him was the gentle rise and fall of his stomach.

The chesnaught spoke. "Do you see why Rishu had ran away, children? She faked him out, majorly! It is supposed to be illegal to end a battle in a single move, but I bet all my beans that Her Majesty will be too he indecisive to punish her. Pit?"

"It is PEAT!" The drowse shook his fist, eyes shut.
Drifter smacked him. "Put him and Flame on our wagon!" The other three raised a brow. "The Amalakis own this land. As soon as she gets back to the palace the rent will skyrocket!"
"But elder," PEAT asked, "if we live in those unfinished apartments, we could be jailed at any time!"

"We have no choice! That is the only place without a bill to pay! Rishu's probably warming up the seats as we speak!"

"Then we should gather our things again?"

"Look on the bright side, we'll have the whole place to ourselves!"