Chapter 12

Willow stood over the fallen Scyther, her expression calm and composed. She hadn't even broken a sweat, her fur as pristine as it had been before the battle. There wasn't a single scratch on her—a testament to her incredible skill.

Arcane, still standing at a distance, couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and fear. Willow had just taken down a powerful opponent without so much as a scratch, and she had done it with such ease. It was a stark reminder of just how strong she really was.

But along with that fear came a sense of accomplishment. Arcane could feel the new knowledge coursing through him—he had successfully copied all eight of the moves he had seen during the battle. Quick Attack, Leaf Blade, Synthesis, Magical Leaf, Slash, Agility, Double Team, and Air Slash. Each move was now a part of his arsenal, ready to be used whenever he needed them.

As Willow turned to face him, her expression softened. She approached him with a gentle demeanor, as if sensing the turmoil of emotions he was experiencing. "You did well to stay focused, Arcane," she said, her voice kind. "But now, we should hurry back to the village. It's not safe to linger here."

Arcane nodded, still a little shaken but grateful for her support. "Alright," he agreed, his voice steady despite the lingering tension in his chest.

As they began to make their way back to the village, Arcane couldn't help but glance at Willow from time to time. She walked with her usual calm grace, as if the battle had been nothing more than a simple exercise. It was clear that she was in a league of her own, and while that knowledge was somewhat intimidating, it also reassured Arcane. If someone as skilled as Willow believed he could contribute to the community, then perhaps he truly did have a place here.

The journey back was swift, the forest around them gradually transitioning from the wild, untamed area where they had fought the Scyther to the more familiar, peaceful surroundings of the village. Arcane's mind raced with thoughts of the battle, the moves he had learned, and the formidable strength of his companion.

By the time they reached the village, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden light over the trees. Willow led him back to the den where he had rested earlier, her gentle demeanor never wavering.

"Rest here for now," she instructed softly. "You've done well today, Arcane. We'll speak more in the morning."

Arcane nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him now that the adrenaline had worn off. "Thank you, Willow," he said, his voice sincere.

Willow gave him a small smile before turning to leave. "Sleep well," she said before disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

As Arcane settled down in the den, his mind replayed the events of the day. The battle with the Scyther, the moves he had learned, and Willow's incredible strength—all of it weighed heavily on his thoughts.

Arcane felt a growing sense of enjoyment. He was going to get stronger, learn more every day, and if he could make allies like Willow, he knew that he could not survive in this new world but thrive.

As sleep began to claim him, Arcane allowed himself a small smile. He had come a long way since waking up in this unfamiliar place. Though the road ahead would undoubtedly be filled with more trials and battles; he felt confident he could keep going.

Arcane's sleep was abruptly interrupted by an intense burning sensation that surged through his body, waking him with a start. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, searing and spreading through every fiber of his being. He instinctively clutched at his chest, but his hands felt... different. As he forced his eyes open, he was met with a sight that shocked him to his core.

His body, usually solid and familiar, had become ethereal and smoke-like. Tendrils of mist curled around him, and he realized with growing horror that he was beginning to float off the ground. His form shifted and twisted, the mist coalescing into a new shape. In a matter of seconds, his body had transformed into that of a Scyther.

Panic gripped Arcane as he stared down at his scythe-like hands, the same lethal blades that had belonged to the Scyther Willow had defeated earlier. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. He had never experienced anything like this before, and the suddenness of the transformation left him reeling.

Desperate for answers, Arcane activated his Appraisal ability, focusing on the scythe hands that now extended from his body. The familiar screen of information appeared in his mind, and there it was—the ability responsible for his transformation.

Dark Illusion – Takes on the appearance of any Pokémon that you defeated in battle before.

Arcane's thoughts raced as he processed the information. This ability allowed him to take on the form of any Pokémon he had defeated. But there was one glaring problem: Willow had been the one to defeat the Scyther, not him. So how was this even possible?

As he pondered the mystery, a theory began to form in his mind. Perhaps it wasn't necessary for him to land the final blow; maybe just being in the area when a Pokémon died was enough to trigger the transformation. It was an interesting thought, but one that made sense given the circumstances.

Regardless of the how or why, Arcane knew he needed to change back quickly. The ability to transform was undoubtedly powerful, but it would only be truly useful if others didn't know he could do so. If anyone saw him like this, questions would arise—questions he wasn't prepared to answer.

He focused intently, willing his body to return to its original form. The burning sensation returned, though it was less intense this time, more of a dull heat spreading through his body. The ethereal mist that made up his Scyther form began to shift once more, his body losing its shape as it transitioned back to something more familiar. Within moments, he was himself again, solid and real.

Arcane let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. He glanced around the den, ensuring that no one had witnessed his transformation. The night was still, with only the faint sounds of the forest outside to accompany his racing heartbeat.

He sat down slowly, trying to steady his thoughts. The ability to transform into any defeated Pokémon could be an incredible asset, but it was also a secret to keep. He would have to be careful when and where he used it, and most importantly, he would need to understand its limits and activation conditions better.

As he lay back down, the events of the night replayed in his mind. He had learned something new about himself, something that could be immensely useful depending on how it was used. Things like transforming into legendary forms or forms suited to fly raced through his mind. But for now, he needed rest. Tomorrow would probably be a long day. With a final, deep breath, Arcane closed his eyes and let the exhaustion take over, hoping that the sleep that came this time would not so easily be broken.