Seeing Isis so focused and clearheaded felt strange to Altaïr. He chewed his bread mechanically, lost in thought.
Amos poured himself a cup of hot black tea and stirred in two spoonfuls of jam. After taking a sip, he looked at Altaïr. "It seems Isis won't need your help for a while. What do you plan to do in the meantime?
"Given how you two are always competing, I doubt you'll take a leisurely vacation while she's busy."
Altaïr set down his bread and sat up straight. "Master Amos, I'd like to train with you..."
"Stop right there." Amos raised a hand to halt him. "I made myself clear yesterday. You've already found your own path, so you no longer need to train under anyone.
"At your current level of swordsmanship, burying yourself in the Training Area for a month or two would accomplish almost nothing. The best way forward is to hone your skills through real combat."
"Hone my skills through real combat..."
"Exactly. For you, a Monster with a 5★ Danger Rating would make the ideal whetstone. You'd have a real chance of defeating it, but the fight would still carry pressure and risk.
"Look for a Monster with a fierce temperament and relentless offense, such as a Tigrex or Glavenus. Either would make a good opponent.
"For a Blademaster, seeking a breakthrough through head-on clashes is a high-risk, high-reward path to growth. At your current strength, you should be able to keep that risk within acceptable limits."
"Using Monsters as whetstones... Tigrex... That works perfectly. I understand," Altaïr murmured to himself.
He quickly finished his meal in a few bites, stood, and bowed slightly to Amos. "Thank you for the guidance. I'll make good use of this time to improve myself."
With that, Altaïr and Sajji hurried away, as though walking even two steps slower would let Isis pull ahead of him.
The house suddenly fell quiet. Amos took another sip of tea and furrowed his brow. "Strange... Something feels off."
—--
By the time Altaïr reached the Gathering Hall, Isis was nowhere to be seen.
"She's fast," Altaïr muttered under his breath.
The Guild Manager sat cross-legged on the counter, a pipe between his lips as he blew smoke rings. When he saw Altaïr approach, he raised his eyelids. "Are you looking for Isis? She just ran out.
"I promised to help her arrange a quest to Hunt Kuarusepu. I should hear something within the next few days, so you two can go home and wait for news."
"I'm not here about Kuarusepu." Altaïr handed over his Hunter's Notes.
"No?" The Guild Manager paused, lowered his pipe, and accepted the notes. "Then what brings you here? Do you want to take a quest alone?"
"Master Amos suggested that I use Monsters as whetstones to hone my skills." Altaïr paused for two seconds before continuing. "I think a Brute Tigrex would make a good target.
"I saw one at Latio Volcano a while ago. Its territory seemed close to the road used to haul ore from the mine deep inside the volcano, so I suspect there's a quest for it on file."
"...I don't think the whetstone Master Amos recommended would be anything like a Brute Tigrex."
Altaïr had no intention of lying. "You're right. The 'whetstone' Master Amos recommended was a Tigrex or a Glavenus.
"But perhaps I'm being arrogant. I think the Brute Tigrex would make a better target."
The Guild Manager put his pipe back between his lips and studied him. "You little rascal. At least you're self-aware enough to know you're being arrogant.
"Even a veteran 6★ Hunter would think carefully before choosing a Brute Tigrex as a target.
"Tell me the truth. Is 'honing your skills' really the only reason you've chosen to Hunt a Brute Tigrex?"
"You're right. At my current strength, claiming I intend to use a Brute Tigrex as a 'whetstone' is rather arrogant."
Altaïr put on a polite smile. "The truth is, I've been interested in Brute Tigrex for a long time.
"You know I'm from Loc Lac. You must know Loc Lac's own 'Brute Tigrex,' right?"
"You mean Marydan?"
"Yes. Ever since I was little, Madam Marydan's Brute Tigrex Armor Set has left a deep impression on me. I always thought that once I grew stronger, I'd get a set of my own.
"As a child, I only thought it looked impressive. But from a practical standpoint, the highly aggressive Brute Tigrex Armor Set suits me better than this Espinas Armor Set, which focuses on status effects.
"As you know, though, Subspecies Monsters like Brute Tigrex are rare and difficult to find.
"I was lucky enough to encounter one at Latio Volcano a while ago, so naturally it got me thinking. Then Master Amos happened to mention that I could use a Tigrex to practice my swordsmanship.
"I also want to use this opportunity to test my abilities, so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone."
"'Kill two birds with one stone,' is it?" The Guild Manager snorted. "I take it you're mainly preparing for that Hunt a few years from now, aren't you?"
The smile faded from Altaïr's face. "I suppose I can't hide anything from you. That's right. If I'm going to fight that one someday, I want to seize every opportunity to gain more experience Hunting Tigrex.
"Besides ordinary Tigrex, I can't afford to pass up rarer and more powerful forms like Brute Tigrex."
The Guild Manager said nothing more. He searched through a thick ledger for a while, eventually pulled out a quest form, and shoved it against Altaïr's chest.
"Take it, kid. Watch yourself, and don't die."
—--
Completely unaware that Altaïr had also accepted a solo Hunt, Isis made her way excitedly to the Royal Academy.
Since the Guild Manager had agreed to help, she decided not to trouble Francesca by asking her to call in another favor. She trusted the Guild Manager's ability and authority to bring good news soon enough.
She could not afford to waste the time before then. She planned to prepare in every possible way before the quest form came through. That way, she could leave as soon as it arrived and have more time for the Hunt.
The Royal Academy was a comprehensive institution of higher education jointly founded by three major organizations. Its main gate and the surrounding streets were crowded with students in Scrivener robes, books clutched in their arms.
Some gathered in groups to talk and debate, while others sat on the ground, absorbed in their reading.
The air itself seemed saturated with the scent of ink and parchment. The rustle of turning pages and the scratch of quills set Isis's nerves on edge, and she unconsciously slowed her pace.
Her arrival drew the attention of faculty and students alike.
Her extraordinary height, her thick, heavy armor, the massive weapon stained with blood that could never be completely scrubbed away, and the cold, imposing aura forged through countless battles to the death against Monsters all clashed with her surroundings. She felt as though she had stumbled into another world.
Put another way, a frail young scholar with glasses and a book bag would probably feel just as uneasy if they suddenly wandered into a Gathering Hall tavern full of Hunters and found themselves surrounded by burly men and women.
She had visited once before, but the Professor, Nymera, and the others had been with her then. This time, she was alone, so the experience naturally felt different.
To keep from looking intimidated, she stared straight ahead and held her face rigid, trying to conceal her anxiety.
What she failed to notice was that her deliberately measured pace and positively frigid expression made it seem as though a cold wind surrounded her. Merely drawing near was enough to send a chill down someone's spine.
The students on the road to the Royal Academy's main gate hurried to either side, as though afraid she might trample them.
There were, however, two exceptions.
Two girls in Scrivener robes, neither looking older than fifteen or sixteen, remained in the middle of the road.
More precisely, one stood her ground with her hands on her hips while her companion desperately tried to pull her aside. Watching the "terrifying Hunter" draw closer, the second girl looked ready to cry from anxiety.
"Kitty, let's go. That Hunter looks dangerous..." her companion urged nervously.
"Huh? Dangerous?" Kitty lifted her chin. "The road's plenty wide. You think I'm going to let her walk all over me?
"No way! I want to see whether anyone can act more arrogant than the 'Mad Dog of the Royal Academy'!"
P.S. "Mad Dog" is a self-proclaimed title.
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