“Ohoho! Alex, my boy, I see you’ve made yourself quite comfortable already! Heh heh… Though I must say, I didn’t take you for the type to challenge my dojo as well! How delightful!” Mustard said.

“Just stretching my muscles until you arrived,” Alex replied, turning to Klara. “There may have been some miscommunication when I made my intentions known upon my arrival.”

“Ahaha… yeah, miscommunication,” Klara said with a dry laugh, looking away.

“Anyhoo! Come along, my boy. We’ve got ever so much to discuss!” Mustard said as he retreated toward the right side of the building, with Alex following and Klara sighing heavily.

They passed a row of offices, shops, a Pokémon Center, and other services before arriving at an open space that resembled a living room. A TV sat opposite a cluster of couches, with game consoles set up nearby, while several doors branched off toward private quarters.

“Now then! I did mention your reward during our little call, didn’t I? Heh heh… Though between you and me, it’s rather more of a favor! Ohoho! Still, if you can pull it off, I daresay it’ll feel like quite the reward!” Mustard said as he stepped into a room littered with scattered papers.

Alex could tell this was a calligraphy room, with sheets of paper as large as tables plastered across the walls. High-quality ink sets lined the shelves and exquisite brushes of all sizes were laid out. Ink-stained cloths piled nearby, alongside drying racks filled with freshly brushed characters, each stroke bold and intimidating.

Immediately, Alex could tell they were drawn with emotion, intent, and, most importantly, energy.

“Do you happen to know what the Secret Armor of my dojo is, I wonder?” Mustard asked, his tone light with a curious little chuckle.

“If I remember right, it’s a Kubfu and an Urshifu. It’s one of the things your Isle of Armor is best known for.”

“Heh heh, you’re right! Though I suppose it isn’t much of a secret anymore since folks outside already know about it,” Mustard chuckled. “What they don’t know, however, is that in order for Kubfu to evolve into Urshifu, it requires a powerful fighting intent… and I’ve managed to distill that very intent onto paper through calligraphy!”

“Right. The Scroll of Waters and the Scroll of Darkness that give Urshifu either Surging Strikes or Wicked Blow.”

“Precisely! But I believe there is so much more than just these two, so I’ve spent my years coming up with more… and I’ve had some successes!” Mustard beamed.

“The Scroll of Fire,” he said, holding up one covered in ferocious, aggressive strokes and sweeping curves.

“The Scroll of Grass,” he continued, presenting another filled with calm, serene, patient lines.

“And the Scroll of Fairies,” he added, this one whimsical in nature, with playful ink splashes and light, airy strokes.

“I’ve had many successes… but many failures as well,” he admitted with a softer chuckle. “And one of those failures has affected a particular youngling who’s tried, and failed, to evolve for the longest time. Unfortunately, I simply do not have the necessary mentality and experience to write the scroll… try as I might. But you do.”

“I’ve seen you battle on TV,” Mustard said, his usual cheer softening. “And I must say, I admire your adaptability. Heh heh… you are like water, flowing straight into the gaps in your opponent’s defenses and flooding them out of position.”

He folded his arms, nodding as he continued.

“You don’t seem to have a single fixed style to speak of, other than flexibility itself and the ability to adjust under pressure. A culmination of many martial arts, with none of the rigidity holding you down.”

He gestured animatedly as he continued, voice rising with excitement.

“You start off firm and rigid, taking your opponent’s blows and absorbing their fighting style, like heated metal you bend but never break, adapting to the pressure until finally… BAM! You explode out and finish them powerfully, beyond their ability to react against!”

His expression brightened, a sharp edge of burning fighting intent flaring behind them.

“You, Alex, and your fighting style are the embodiment of Steel! And I would like to request that you write a Scroll of Steel, for the sake of myself, my dojo… and this little one here!”

An Elite ranked Kubfu was gently nudged forward from behind Mustard’s legs, stepping out into view. It was the same one Alex had noted was watching from the second floor, which had followed them down to the living room before stealthily making its way behind Mustard.

“Of course,” Mustard added with a warm chuckle, “if you manage to pull it off, this little one would be more than happy to join you as your very own Secret Armor!”

The little Kubfu nodded in agreement, then began demonstrating its moves, punching and kicking with earnest focus, each strike delivered with an adorably serious determination.

“I’d honestly love to help, Mustard,” Alex said, unsure. “But I’ve never done calligraphy before. I don’t think I can make a scroll that would allow this Kubfu to evolve. I don’t mind teaching it to fight with my style, though.”

“Hohoho! To write any one of these scrolls doesn’t require much calligraphy knowledge at all,” Mustard said, waving a hand lightly. “It requires intent, emotion, experience… the kind you’ve got in spades! Don’t worry about your handwriting, that’ll come with practice, heh heh. More importantly, you need the necessary combat experience to even know what to write, and that is a far more difficult requirement to fulfill. As far as I’m concerned, you’re already 90% of the way there. You just need that remaining 10% to complete it! What do you say?”

“And here I thought I could become your student and learn martial arts from you, not calligraphy,” Alex said, shaking his head.

“Goodness, lad!” Mustard exclaimed with a hearty chuckle. “When it comes to martial arts, you’re already right up there at my level! If anything, you just need a bit more muscle to match this old man’s frame, heh heh! But as for technique… I’ve absolutely nothing of worth to teach you. As a matter of fact, trying to do so might only diminish your style and mastery!”

“Kubfu!” Kubfu said with a nod.

“Plus,” Mustard added with a soft chuckle, “this little one here is a fan of yours as well!”

“Alright,” Alex said with a nod, before turning to the little Kubfu at his feet. “I’ll accept the responsibility, but you need to learn to fight like my Pokémon as well.”

“Kubfu!”

“Excellent! Excellent!” Mustard beamed, clapping his hands lightly. “You’re free to stay in the guest room upstairs until you complete the scroll! I’ll also be giving you some basic lessons in calligraphy to help you along. And of course, you and your Pokémon are free to roam the island and join in the training whenever you wish. This is going to be so wonderful, heh heh heh!”

With that, Alex found himself learning calligraphy instead of combat on the Isle of Armor, much to his own surprise. He had to be honest, though, he was a bit excited to learn calligraphy and put onto paper the fighting intent he had developed over two lifetimes. It was a chance to leave something for future generations.

“Are you about done?” came a feminine voice as she entered.

“Honey! This is Alex, Alex this is Honey, my wife,” Mustard introduced with a cheerful grin. “She’ll be showing you to your accommodations, and she’s in charge of the place!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Honey,” Alex said with a light nod.

“Well, come along then. Let me show you upstairs.”

Alex was shown to a modest room upstairs that was more than enough for him to live in. It wasn’t the luxurious accommodation he was used to, but it didn’t matter, considering he wasn’t planning to spend any more time there than sleeping.

Then he went downstairs and released his Pokémon into the battle hall, instantly drawing a crowd as they moved around. They were briefly introduced to the students before being allowed to participate in Pokémon battles, much to the surprise of the students who had always thought Pokémon needed their partners in order to battle.

Finally, Alex made his way back to the calligraphy room where he was shown the basics which were in fact incredibly basic. He was taught how to grind the ink and mix it with water, how to apply it to a brush without spilling, the different kinds of brushes and the strokes they could produce, and lastly, how to clean up afterwards.

“Don’t worry about overusing the supplies,” Mustard said with a casual wave. “You’ll be starting with the cheaper stuff until you’re confident enough to finalize your work. Feel free to use it all up as well, heh heh. I’ve got a dealer who brings me the best materials!”

As Alex was about to get started on his very first piece of calligraphy, the door to the room burst open as a silver-haired woman rushed in, eyes wide with excitement as she took in Alex’s form kneeling on the floor.

“Gasp! It’s true! You’re Alex Wattson!”