Chapter 235

Chapter 235: Chapter 235

It was late August in Sinnoh, and summer was finally drawing to a close.

The weather had already begun to cool, and the wind no longer carried the oppressive heat that had lingered throughout the warmer months.

Unfortunately, none of that had prepared Mike for the conditions on Mount Coronet.

He was currently trudging through knee-deep snow, struggling to put one foot in front of the other as the thick white blanket covering the mountainside made every step exhausting.

A heavy down jacket protected him from the cold, while the scarf Grandma had knitted for him was wrapped snugly around his neck.

One long end hung down across his chest, helping him shelter Glameow, who was curled comfortably in his arms beneath the fabric.

Snowflakes swept along by the freezing wind struck Mike’s exposed face with a sharpness that felt almost like tiny knives.

"Nobody told me it would be this damn cold up on Mount Coronet..." he complained, burying his face deeper into the scarf and breathing warm air against the fabric.

His voice came out muffled.

His companions were enduring the weather in their own ways.

Gengar trudged along beside him with a knitted cap made from towel fabric perched on his head, a backpack over his shoulders, and his familiar thin bamboo staff in one hand.

Unlike Mike, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, repeatedly swinging his staff at the snowflakes drifting down from the sky as though he were practicing some extraordinary martial-arts technique.

Beedrill, meanwhile, was having a considerably less entertaining experience.

Snow kept settling over his body until his usual colors were hidden beneath a layer of white.

At first, he repeatedly shook himself to dislodge it, restoring his appearance for a short while, but the relentless snowfall quickly covered him again.

After several unsuccessful attempts, he eventually gave up and allowed the snow to accumulate wherever it pleased.

Snivy was wearing the little gloves Grandma had knitted for her.

She walked close beside Mike, one hand lightly gripping his pant leg as she matched her steps to his, while Hattrem had taken over Glameow’s usual responsibility of leading the way.

Unlike the others, Hattrem appeared absolutely delighted by the snow.

She bounced along ahead of the group, occasionally throwing herself into a snowdrift and rolling around several times before getting back up.

Her clear laughter rang through the otherwise quiet mountainside, making it obvious that she considered the miserable weather an excellent opportunity to play.

Rotom, on the other hand, wanted absolutely nothing to do with the cold.

He had retreated into the Rotom Phone and then burrowed into Mike’s pocket, where he could enjoy what little warmth the down jacket provided.

Mike eventually stopped walking and took a moment to examine his surroundings.

Everything was covered in white, from the mountain trail beneath his feet to the branches of the trees surrounding them.

Seen from a distance, the snow-covered branches looked almost like enormous clusters of silver flowers blooming across the mountainside.

The scenery was undeniably beautiful, but there was one rather serious problem.

They were only halfway up the mountain.

’It’s already this cold here. Won’t it be even worse if we keep climbing?’

Mike looked toward the higher reaches of Mount Coronet and couldn’t suppress another shiver.

Before coming here, he had imagined that a mountain as enormous and ecologically diverse as Mount Coronet would be overflowing with Pokémon.

During the several days since parting ways with Ash and the others, however, he had followed the mountain trails all the way to this elevation without finding nearly as many Pokémon as he had expected.

Below the snow line, he had encountered plenty of common species, but once he climbed into the permanently snowy region, the number of Pokémon he could see had dropped noticeably.

Or, to be more precise, the number of Pokémon visible to the naked eye had dropped noticeably.

That didn’t necessarily mean there weren’t any living nearby.

’Did I take the wrong route? Or is the temperature here somehow unsuitable even for Ice-type Pokémon?’

Mike looked toward the higher slopes again, shuddered at the thought of climbing into even colder weather, and quickly abandoned that line of speculation.

He adjusted his hold on Glameow and continued forward.

According to the map, there was a Pokémon Center not far ahead.

If he could reach it today, he would be able to rest, warm up, and ask someone familiar with the area about the local Pokémon population and the mountain’s conditions.

If that didn’t produce any useful information, he could always continue toward the summit.

"By the way, Glameow, are you absolutely sure you don’t want to stay inside your Poké Ball for a while?"

Mike lowered his head toward the little Pokémon tucked against his chest.

"Meow."

Glameow promptly buried her face deeper into his jacket, making her refusal perfectly clear.

"What about your carrier? You could stay nice and warm in there."

Glameow shook her head again.

Mike could only tighten his arms around her and continue walking, although the growing numbness in his muscles had already begun making him reconsider certain aspects of her daily routine.

’I’m definitely going to have to start watching Glameow’s diet.’

His arms were practically falling asleep from carrying her.

They walked for a while longer, but the Pokémon Center still hadn’t appeared.

Instead, the wind and snow grew increasingly fierce until Mike was having trouble making out the trail directly ahead of him.

Hattrem suddenly stopped bouncing and raised her head toward something in the distance.

Almost simultaneously, Gengar and Beedrill moved to Mike’s sides, taking up positions slightly ahead of him as they stared into the swirling snow.

Mike stopped as well, blinking in confusion when a white figure gradually emerged from the blizzard.

A Pokémon was floating in front of them.

Her body was almost entirely white, and her shape resembled a woman dressed in a flowing white kimono.

Although she appeared snow-white at first glance, the purple skin of her actual body could be glimpsed around her face and eyes.

It was a Froslass.

Froslass floated calmly in the snow and gave Mike and his companions a friendly smile.

"Frosss—"

Her voice was clear and ethereal, blending strangely with the howling wind around them.

[The weather is terribly cold. Would you like to come back to my home and rest for a while?]

Mike stared at her in surprise.

’Seriously? Something this convenient can actually happen?’

He had certainly never heard of Froslass living on snowy mountainsides inviting passing travelers into their homes for a little rest.

Then again, there was something strangely familiar about the situation.

It reminded him of those old supernatural stories about a scholar traveling to the capital for the imperial examinations.

The unfortunate scholar would encounter a beautiful woman dressed in red on a lonely road at night, accept her invitation to stay at her residence, and eventually succumb to a passionate encounter that ended with him becoming nothing more than a pile of bones.

The only difference was that Mike had encountered a Froslass rather than a mysterious woman in red.

And Froslass was a good looking pokemon.

That was precisely the kind of appearance that made people lower their guard.

After all, who didn’t enjoy meeting a nice Pokémon?

Consider the situation from another perspective.

If you were stranded on a snowy mountain with night approaching, and both a Froslass and a Jynx invited you home, whose invitation would you be more inclined to accept?

Mike narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

He quietly whispered something to Gengar and Beedrill, and the two immediately activated the portable cameras they were carrying without drawing attention to themselves.

Froslass might look elegant and beautiful, but in some villages near snowy mountains, she was regarded as a witch of the snow.

According to local legends, Froslass would descend from the mountains during nights of raging blizzards, enter nearby human settlements, and search for prey.

Of course, Mike had no idea whether those stories were true or merely frightening tales passed down by villagers over generations.

"Is your home somewhere nearby?" he asked curiously.

Froslass looked surprised when she heard him.

’He can understand what I’m saying?’

She examined Mike for a moment before nodding.

"Fross."

[It’s not far. Just a little farther ahead.]

"I see. In that case, we’ll take you up on your offer."

Froslass nodded again and turned to lead the way through the snow.

Mike followed with his Pokémon, although Snivy soon reached out and gently tugged at his pant leg.

When he looked down, he found her gazing up at him with unmistakable concern in her eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile, letting her know that he understood and had no intention of dropping his guard.

After passing through a thicket of snow-covered bushes, Mike suddenly found himself standing in front of a cozy little house.

"Fross."

Froslass turned toward him, folding her long sleeves neatly in front of her body.

[This is my home.]

Mike stared at the warm light glowing behind the glass windows, his mouth slowly falling open.

’Wait... she actually has a house?’

’Did I completely misunderstand the situation?’

With a graceful movement of one sleeve, Froslass opened the front door.

Inside was a welcoming room with a large table already covered in steaming dishes.

Everything looked freshly prepared, and the sight of so much delicious food immediately made Gengar’s mouth begin watering.

Hattrem, however, closed her eyes as she examined the unexpected house and the food waiting inside.

Snivy remained equally cautious, her brows drawing together as she studied the surroundings.

Mike had told them plenty of stories during their travels, and one lesson had been repeated often enough for her to remember it clearly: when a stranger suddenly approached you on the road, whether human or Pokémon, you should remain at least a little suspicious.

Otherwise, it would be all too easy to end up drugged or trapped.

Froslass turned back toward Mike and extended another gentle invitation.

"Fross~"

Her voice seemed to grow closer and closer, echoing directly inside Mike’s mind.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, the uneasiness he had been feeling began to disappear, and his vigilance faded along with it.

Then, without warning, the sound of a deer calling rang through his consciousness.

The cry was ancient and resonant, carrying a strange power that seemed to reach across an immense distance.

Mike’s vision blurred for an instant.

When his sight returned, the cozy little house was gone.

In its place stood a dark cave whose interior was coated in thick layers of ice.

At the same moment, a familiar notification appeared before his eyes.

{Wyrdeer Clan’s Gratitude III: You helped the Wyrdeer clan recover the psychic power their species had lost through regression. From this moment onward, the Wyrdeer clan will forever offer you their protection, and your resistance to mental interference has increased significantly.}

Mike immediately understood what had happened.

’So the Wyrdeer clan’s blessing protected me from Froslass’s psychic illusion?’

He glanced toward Froslass, who was still floating near the cave entrance, then looked at the Pokémon accompanying him.

Without changing his expression, he adjusted Glameow in his arms and casually tugged on Gengar’s tail.

Gengar didn’t react at all.

He was still staring toward the cave with the same eager expression he had worn upon seeing the imaginary feast.

"Fross?"

Froslass tilted her head in confusion when Mike failed to respond to her invitation.

Mike immediately put on an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I got distracted for a moment. Please, lead the way."

Froslass smiled gently and floated inside.

Mike followed with Glameow in his arms, curious to see exactly what the Pokémon intended to do next.

’Is she planning to eat my soul or something?’

He had heard stories claiming that Froslass liked freezing humans and Pokémon into blocks of ice before dragging them back to their caves.

Some versions of those stories even claimed that she enjoyed consuming the souls of frozen victims, particularly those of men.

’Does she want my soul, then?’

The thought was disturbing, although Mike was more curious than frightened now that he understood the situation.

Froslass brought over a stool made entirely of ice, and Mike obediently sat down.

It took only a short while for the freezing surface to numb his backside so thoroughly that he could barely feel it anymore.

Their hostess then began pretending to prepare food at a nearby table made of ice.

After a brief performance, she brought over several bowls of shaved ice and offered them to Mike and his companions.

According to the illusion she was maintaining, the bowls were presumably supposed to contain some kind of wonderful, freshly prepared meal.

Mike accepted one and politely thanked her.

Before eating, however, he quietly used the System to inspect the contents of the bowl.

When the results confirmed that the shaved ice was safe, he scooped up a spoonful and put it in his mouth.

Surprisingly, it tasted rather good.

’Now this is the way to enjoy winter. Eating shaved ice when it’s freezing outside really wakes you up from the inside out.’

The other Pokémon took one look at their bowls and immediately lost any desire to eat.

It was snowing heavily outside, and the temperature inside the cave wasn’t much better.

What kind of lunatic would willingly eat shaved ice under these conditions?