Chapter 259: Wedgehurst

Wedgehurst, a quiet town nestled in the southern reaches of Galar, exuded an air of tranquility and simplicity.

The town was a haven for retirees seeking a peaceful life, drawn by its fresh air, beautiful scenery, and mild climate. Despite its small population, its convenient train station made travel easy, allowing families to visit each other without hassle.

Stepping out of the station, Summer stretched his arms and inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar crispness of the countryside. Low-built houses, sprawling farmlands, and an overall pastoral charm painted the perfect picture of a rural retreat.

His destination lay beyond—Postwick, a short walk away through a country path. The two towns were close enough that walking was sufficient, and Summer welcomed the change of pace.

When people thought of Postwick, one name immediately came to mind: Leon, the undefeated Champion of Galar.

Before Leon's rise to fame, Postwick had been an unremarkable town. Nestled between forests and mountains, it was sparsely populated due to the occasional presence of wild Pokémon.

However, everything changed once Leon became Champion. Tourists flooded the small town, eager to see the place that had nurtured Galar's strongest trainer.

The surge in visitors led the League to take action, deploying trainers to relocate dangerous Pokémon deeper into the wilderness for safety.

But there was one place where their efforts had failed—the Slumbering Weald.

Every trainer who ventured in reported the same eerie experience: a sudden, impenetrable fog, disorientation, then blacking out—only to wake up at the forest entrance with no memory of how they got there.

Even Leon himself had tried to explore the forest… only to get completely lost before even encountering the fog. He was found wandering in circles near the entrance, utterly confused.

If the Champion of Galar couldn't navigate the Weald, no one could. The League had no choice but to erect warning signs and block off entry for the safety of tourists.

But Summer wasn't concerned. A little fog wouldn't stop him—not when he had Milotic. With her presence, he could navigate through even the thickest mist with ease.

As he left the station, he took a moment to admire the simple beauty of the countryside. Above, a flock of Rookidee soared across the blue sky. On the roadside, a Greedent stuffed its mouth with fallen berries before scampering up a tree.

In the nearby creek, an Arrokuda launched itself at a Drednaw, only to be sent tumbling backward from the impact. Butterfree flitted gracefully in the air, performing an elegant courtship dance.

A herd of Wooloo grazed peacefully on the grass, their round bodies looking like rolling fluffballs.

Suddenly, a Nickit darted out from the bushes, a berry clamped in its jaws. Hot on its heels, a Galarian Linoone pursued furiously, causing a commotion that startled the Wooloo into rolling away in panic.

Summer chuckled. Galar's countryside never changed.

"I hope it always stays this peaceful," he murmured. The looming crisis weighed on his mind, but for now, he let himself enjoy the serenity.

Before long, he reached the outskirts of Postwick. Something new caught his eye—an elegant two-story building with a fenced courtyard. A sign by the entrance read:

Postwick Trainer School

Funded by: Leon

Summer smiled. Leon really is pushing for a stronger Galar.

Inside the courtyard, children were engaged in friendly battles. A boy in a cap commanded his Scorbunny to use Ember, while his opponent, a girl with short hair, quickly ordered her Sobble to counter with Water Gun.

Their commands were basic, their execution clumsy—but the enthusiasm in their voices was unmistakable.

"Not bad," Summer muttered. "The school's actually teaching them well."

Just then, a gentle yet wise voice spoke behind him.

"They're full of energy, aren't they?"

Turning around, Summer found himself face to face with an elderly woman. She wore glasses with a delicate chain, a white lab coat, and carried a wooden cane.

Professor Magnolia.

Galar's foremost Pokémon researcher. The leading expert on Dynamax energy. And—though she had since retired—the woman who had once worked closely with Chairman Rose.

"Professor Magnolia," Summer acknowledged her presence directly. He had hoped to find her soon, but this saved him the trouble.

If anyone could grant him access to the Slumbering Weald, it was her.

The entrance was blocked by the League, and sneaking in would be suspicious. But with Magnolia's approval, he wouldn't have to worry.

"You recognize me?" Magnolia mused, adjusting her glasses. "It's been years since I've been on television. These days, I mostly come here to give lectures to the next generation of trainers."

Her gaze landed on Summer's wrist, where the Dynamax Band was clearly visible. "And you? What's your name? Are you here as a tourist?"

"Summer," he replied. "I'm planning to go to the Slumbering Weald."

Magnolia raised an eyebrow. "The Weald? Now that's unusual. Are you from Macro Cosmos?"

Summer frowned slightly. Macro Cosmos?

Of course. Magnolia had once collaborated with them. She had created the Dynamax Band alongside Rose's company.

But their partnership ended when she saw what kind of man Rose truly was.

She wanted to study Dynamax energy for the betterment of Pokémon and trainers. But Rose? He wanted to control it.

Disillusioned, Magnolia severed ties. Rose had tried to convince her otherwise, sending countless representatives to persuade her. But her decision never wavered.

Summer shook his head. "No. In fact, I think Macro Cosmos is dangerous—especially under Rose's leadership."

Magnolia's expression softened with intrigue. "How rare. You're the first person I've heard openly criticize him."

She studied Summer carefully before asking, "Then tell me—why do you want to go to the Weald? It's not safe."

Summer opened his mouth to answer—

And then, suddenly, a voice rang out in his mind.

[Temporal Distortion detected. 10 minutes until activation. Please prepare accordingly.]

Summer's eyes widened slightly. A Temporal Distortion?

Now? Of all times?

He had experienced these phenomena before. The world would bend, twisting reality, and Pokémon from different eras would manifest.

But why here? Why now?

His mind raced. The Weald was already mysterious. If a Temporal Distortion appeared within it… then what lay inside might be far more significant than he had realized.

His priority now wasn't just getting inside—it was getting away from Magnolia before she started asking more questions.

Because once the distortion appeared, there would be no hiding it.

( To be continued... )