The harsh environment and frequent appearances of powerful Monsters in the volcanic region could easily give the false impression that it was an untamed wilderness with poor transportation.
Yet this was also the most important mineral-producing region on the entire continent.
Railways connected the mines, mechanized minecarts carried workers, and trade routes transported ore. Improving transportation efficiency was expensive, but plenty of merchants were willing to invest heavily in it.
The two Hunters, accompanied by a Felyne and a Halk, rode a fast but bone-rattling minecart to the mine nearest their target hunting grounds. From there, they walked more than ten kilometers and finally reached a nearby camp shortly after nightfall.
Since the reconnaissance had already been completed, the Hunters were able to turn in early after spending most of the day on the road and enjoyed a peaceful night.
Early the next morning, before dawn, Morgan emerged from his tent fully armored.
The aroma of food filled the camp.
Beside the campfire, Altaïr held a memo in one hand and seemed lost in thought. With the other, he lazily stirred the contents of a large pot over the flames with a long-handled ladle.
"Morning," Morgan greeted him.
"Morning." Altaïr glanced into the pot. "It's almost ready. Time for breakfast."
A hint of anticipation flickered in Morgan's eyes.
Altaïr's cooking could not compare to a professional chef's, but he was easily one of the better cooks among Hunters. Hunting with him usually meant eating well.
Isis prepared the ingredients, Altaïr cooked, and everyone else took care of the camp. It had become routine for the advance team's Hunters.
Morgan leaned closer, only for the bubbling mixture in the pot to make his eye twitch. "What did you make?"
"I crushed some rations, boiled them into a paste with water, and added a little salt and spice powder. It doesn't look great, but it should taste all right."
Without looking up, Altaïr tapped the ladle twice against the rim of the iron pot, knocking the paste clinging to it back inside. "I learned it from Isis. It's the only dish she knows how to make."
"...Is this how you're expressing your sorrow over your girlfriend being away?"
Beside him, Sajji grumbled in dissatisfaction, "The moment Isis is gone, Boss starts cutting corners, meow. Breakfast should at least include something like thick-cut fried bacon, meow."
Altaïr raised his eyes and glanced at both of them. "We left in a hurry and didn't have time to prepare ingredients. If you'd rather gnaw on cold rations, I won't stop you."
"Sigh." Morgan sighed. "People who can't cook have no right to be picky. At least this won't break my teeth. Just give me one bowl, please."
"No. We each have to drink half the pot."
With a deadpan expression, Altaïr filled a large bowl to the brim for Morgan. "When I got up earlier, I was thinking about the Hunt and forgot Isis wasn't here. I made too much, and we can't waste it."
"You..."
"Boss is on a completely different level of considerate when Isis is around, meow," Sajji muttered as he, too, was forced to accept a large bowl of paste.
Morgan silently drank the unappealing but perfectly edible mush and made a firm decision.
Hunting with Altaïr and Isis was fine. Hunting with Altaïr alone was out of the question.
In the end, the two humans and the Felyne still could not finish the entire pot, so they fed the leftovers to Hakucho.
Hakucho was growing quickly, and his appetite now rivaled even Hibiki's. He normally hunted for himself; otherwise, Morgan could never have kept him fed with only the rations he carried.
By the time Morgan finished breaking camp, Altaïr had completed his final equipment check.
"All right, let's quickly review the plan. Sajji and Hakucho will scout from the air and pinpoint the Brute Tigrex's exact location.
"Then I'll Hunt it alone. Morgan, keep watch from a distance and don't intervene unless something unusual happens. The same goes for you, Sajji."
"What exactly counts as something unusual?" Morgan pressed.
"Another Monster crashing the fight, for example, or me sending a signal for backup."
Sajji stared at Altaïr with dead eyes. "Boss, does 'I fight it alone while you watch' really count as a tactical plan, meow?"
Altaïr avoided answering directly. "Anyway, Isis has already dealt with the Kuarusepu and passed the test she set herself.
"The same goes for me. This Brute Tigrex is the trial I've chosen for myself."
"Then at least explain how you plan to Hunt it alone," Morgan said, looking at him. "Sajji and I are here to support you. We can't go in blind."
"Fair enough." This time, Altaïr did not dodge the question. "I'm sure you both noticed that I brought two sets of weapons.
"The Cool Cleavers, a pair of Zamtrios Dual Blades with both Ice and Water elements that were rushed over from Tidal Island, and the Thunder-element Taikun Katana [Crape Myrtle].
"The Brute Tigrex's greatest elemental weaknesses are Ice and Water, followed by Thunder and Dragon. I plan to divide the fight into two phases: an attrition phase, followed by a final assault.
"I'll use the more agile Cool Cleavers to probe and harass it, steadily wearing down its stamina. Once it's exhausted, weakened, and moving more slowly, I'll switch to the Taikun Katana and finish the fight."
"Why not finish it with Tyrant Blade [Heaven Swallower]? You're more accustomed to that weapon, meow, and the Dragon Element should work well too, right?" Sajji asked.
"The Cool Cleavers' attacks will soak the Brute Tigrex's body. The Thunder-element Taikun Katana will be more effective while it's wet.
"Besides, Master Amos warned me that too many powerful creatures lurk deep within the volcanic region. Tyrant Blade [Heaven Swallower] was forged from Arbiter Estrellian materials, and there's a small chance it might attract their curiosity.
"I chose the Taikun Katana to avoid that risk."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "You're more cautious than I expected. I thought you'd charge in with Tyrant Blade [Heaven Swallower] and fight the Brute Tigrex to the death until one of you fell."
"...I'm not some lunatic who only thinks about attacking."
Morgan and Sajji exchanged a look. "You'd better not be," they said in unison, Sajji adding a quiet "meow."
Altaïr raised his hands in surrender. "Anyway, that's the plan. What do you think?"
"Not bad, meow. At least it's better than blindly fighting to the death, meow." Sajji unfolded his glider and called out. Hakucho, who had been circling above the camp, swooped down and swiftly carried him into the sky.
"Let's head out too." Altaïr shouldered the Cool Cleavers, leaving the Taikun Katana [Crape Myrtle] at the camp for now.
Morgan shouldered his Shen Gaoren Cannon and adjusted his ammunition belt. "Hopefully I won't have to use any of this."
—--
Meanwhile, Isis descended the airship's gangplank with a large bundle strapped to her back.
She took a deep breath of the scorching air within the volcanic crater, heavy with sulfur and ash, and nearly choked. Apart from the Troverians who had lived here for generations, no one would consider Harth's environment pleasant, and Isis was no exception.
That did nothing to dampen her good mood.
She hefted the heavy bundle of materials on her back. The mineral scales and crystals inside clinked brightly against one another.
Looking down at Clawdia beside her, she asked, "Should we visit the Smithy first, or the Gathering Hall tavern?"
Clawdia knowingly handed her a coin.
Isis took it, flipped it into the air, and immediately shoved it back into Clawdia's paw so quickly that one had to wonder whether she had even looked at the result.
She hurried eagerly to the tavern and happened to run into Ted and Malika, who were settling in for a leisurely day of drinking.
When they told her that Altaïr had left on a Hunt the day before, her sunny mood clouded with disappointment.
Then she learned that Gemma, her "Aunt Isana," had finished her travels and returned to Harth. Her mood brightened again at once.
Ted treated her to a hearty meal.
The roasted lizard loaded with extra chili was delicious, but it was so spicy that she finished it with her nose running.
Even several large glasses of iced beer could not soothe the burning. Remembering that she still had business to attend to and could not drink too much, Isis left for the Smithy with her tongue hanging out, panting from the heat.
After years apart, Gemma seemed just as thrilled to see Isis. She urged her to set down the bundle, dragged her back to the tavern, and ordered another large serving of the extra-spicy roasted lizard.
...What is wrong with you two?
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