The wind blew in over the inland sea, carrying damp, cold air across the great city at the heart of the continent.
Dundorma awoke in the wind, its countless windmills turning with a steady whir. It was a peculiar sight found in no other city.
The Guild's airship landed at the dock near Hunter's Guild headquarters, and the group disembarked under Nightmist's lead.
Without giving them time to wander, Nightmist turned and said, "Come straight with me to the Elder Hall. His Immenseness sent a messenger with the summons, then dispatched a courier vessel to bring you here. He must have been waiting for some time."
Morgan, who had never entered the Elder Hall before, was unusually nervous. "Don't we... need to prepare first, or find out what to expect? Appropriate clothing, the procedure for an audience, proper etiquette, things like that?"
He was not the only one wondering.
Nymera tied a gauze scarf diagonally over her shoulder to cover the pale skin her outfit left exposed across her chest. Then she took out the small mirror she carried, intending to apply a little makeup, only to realize she had not brought any cosmetics.
Isis also removed her helmet and tried to gather the hair it had flattened into complete disarray. Her hair refused to cooperate, but she hesitated to put the helmet back on for fear that it might be impolite.
Nightmist swept her gaze over them. "There is no need. Armor is the most appropriate formal wear for a Hunter. Your attire is perfectly acceptable."
"Alright..." Morgan replied, though his expression still betrayed some unease.
Altaïr reached out and patted him on the back. "Don't be nervous. His Immenseness is bold and forthright, not someone bound by rigid etiquette. Treat him like any other veteran Hunter and mind your manners. That will be enough."
His words eased the group's tension slightly.
Nightmist gave him a faintly surprised glance. From Altaïr's words, it was clear that he had met His Immenseness before and that the encounter had gone well. After all, His Immenseness usually wore a stern, aged expression that exerted immense pressure.
It seemed Altaïr had been summoned by His Immenseness long ago and had probably even won his favor, a rare distinction among Low Rank Hunters.
Nightmist kept those thoughts to herself, her expression unchanged. "Do not make a scene or wander off. That is all."
The group followed Nightmist to the long staircase leading to the Elder Hall.
She presented the summons, and the two defense force knights guarding the staircase nodded and stepped aside.
The group continued upward. As the towering Elder Hall atop Dundorma's summit drew nearer, everyone's steps became more cautious.
Nightmist was a Guild Knight directly under headquarters and carried an official summons, so nothing obstructed their path.
The group soon reached the magnificent hall famed among Hunters.
Isis stared up at the massive slash mark running across the great iron gate. "A sword did this? Just how huge would that sword have to be?!"
Nightmist's expression turned solemn. "His Immenseness did it, of course. Around this time last year, he swung his blade and split this enormous steel gate in two.
"The Guild Manager had the smiths repair it and set it upright again. What do you see in this sword scar?"
"His Immenseness is incredibly strong!" Isis answered without a moment's thought.
Nymera followed at once. "All hardship and adversity, cleaved apart with a single stroke!"
Morgan considered the question for a few seconds longer. "We must not let old habits bind us. We must have the courage to break every shackle."
Altaïr: "..."
"..."
A faint smile touched Nightmist's face. "Hunters often find inspiration in this sword scar. It is enough that each of you found your own meaning in it."
Machinery rumbled, and the iron gate slowly slid open.
At the center of the Elder Hall, His Immenseness sat upright upon the stone dais as always, while the small, elderly Guild Manager stood beside him and delivered a report.
To Altaïr, the scene looked no different from when he had first come here a year ago. It was as though time had frozen within the hall.
Remembering all that he had experienced over the past year, Altaïr stopped for a moment, lost in thought.
The others were stunned by His Immenseness's physique and stood motionless.
Nightmist was long accustomed to such reactions. Just as she was about to prompt the young Hunters, His Immenseness's deep voice echoed through the hall.
"Young ones, come forward."
Startled from their daze, the young Hunters hurried forward and stopped before the stone dais. Nightmist silently withdrew into the shadows along the wall, seeming to vanish entirely.
Beneath his long, drooping eyebrows, His Immenseness's gaze swept over the four Hunters as he quietly appraised them.
After a moment, he spoke. "Altaïr, this old man still remembers you. If memory serves, you were only a 4★ Hunter last year, were you not?
"Guanzorumu, an aberrant Taikun Zamuza, Espinas, and now this Teppeki Shen Gaoren... Hehehe... You have done quite well."
His Immenseness's words made Altaïr's scalp tingle.
Had Master Amos or Teacher Karin said such a thing, he would already have been bracing himself for a beating.
Coming from His Immenseness, it probably counted as praise... right?
Thankfully, after those two sentences, His Immenseness shifted his gaze.
"Isis." His Immenseness turned to her. "The glory of your elders belongs to them alone. You need not inherit it. The light you one day cast may be no dimmer than theirs.
"That you have forged a path of your own gives this old man great satisfaction."
Isis instinctively looked up at him, an unconscious smile of joy spreading across her face.
"Of course you'll be strong! Just look at who your parents are!" "You must be great with a Great Sword or a Long Sword!" "Become the next generation's Hero!" Words and judgments like these had followed her all her life.
Yet a sliver of doubt had always remained buried in the deepest part of her heart.
Was her choice truly the right one? If she had followed in her parents' footsteps and taken up the Great Sword or Long Sword, would she be doing better than she was now?
Altaïr, Nymera, Francesca, and Master Amos had all told her that she only needed to walk her own path.
But were their judgments truly sound? After all... none of them were as strong as her father.
It would be difficult to find a Hunter anywhere in the world who was stronger than her father. Almost no one could give her the definitive assurance that she had chosen correctly.
No one except the elderly man before her.
To Isis, His Immenseness's judgment carried extraordinary weight.
His Immenseness turned his gaze to Morgan. "Small in stature and frail in appearance. Such judgments are nothing but meaningless noise.
"You have already become strong, and in the future, you will travel farther than those ignorant people."
Morgan's small face was tense, but his eyes burned with unprecedented determination.
Finally, His Immenseness looked at Nymera. "A young Gunner from Kamura. That ancient village has finally found a worthy pillar for its future."
Nymera had not expected such high praise and quickly bowed her head. "I am not worthy of it. How could someone as slow-witted as I be called a pillar? Maki, Hinoa, Minoto, and the others are Kamura's true pillars."
The Guild Manager beside His Immenseness raised his eyes. "Kamura Village's future may not be as secure as you believe.
"During the Rampage and the calamity from the Abyss, the village stood on the brink of destruction. Yet those crises also produced a host of powerful figures: Maki, Hinoa, Minoto, Master Utsushi, Ayame...
"It was an era fraught with danger, but also an age when powerful Hunters rose one after another.
"But they can fall ill, and they grow old. Among Kamura's younger generation today, aside from you, no sufficiently accomplished Hunter has yet emerged..."
"But Kamura Village still has Hinoa and Minoto! They can remain active for many, many more years!" Nymera could not help arguing, her urgency making her forget her usual refined manner of speech.
His Immenseness remained silent.
The Guild Manager's voice carried a note of helplessness. "We Wyverians live long lives, and many of us take up hunting, yet very few ever become renowned Hunters. Do you know why?"
The question left Nymera at a loss, while Altaïr and the others discreetly pricked up their ears.
"Most Wyverians are detached by nature. With lives so long, we are easily drawn toward new goals and liable to change course halfway through.
"The twins are naturally gifted. Decades of trials have honed them into capable Hunters, but they venture out almost exclusively when Maki goes hunting.
"Judging by how few quests they have completed independently over the years, it is clear that their hearts do not truly lie on the Hunter's path."
"..." Nymera lowered her head in silence.
She knew everything the Guild Manager had said was true. Hinoa spent less time in the hunting grounds than at her tea shop, while Minoto preferred painting to hunting.
Maki remained strong, but what about in ten years? Twenty?
* * *
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