With the new talisman and armor in hand, the special training came to an end. Altaïr and Isis had spent nearly a month in Harth, and they too were preparing to leave.
According to Ted and Malika, they were heading to the Great Desert next, returning to Malika's hometown of Loc Lac to visit family.
Altaïr considered traveling with them, but the two-month leave granted after his promotion to High Rank was almost over. In the end, he abandoned the tempting idea and simply entrusted the couple with several letters to deliver in Loc Lac.
One of them was for Teacher Karin and Teacher Haifa.
He did not know whether they were still stationed in Liber or had been reassigned elsewhere. The letter was a long shot, meant to be left in the mailbox outside their home.
If Teacher Karin and Teacher Haifa ever returned, they should find it there.
After bidding farewell to Ted and Malika, who had helped them so much, as well as Gemma, the Troverian Village Chief, and the others, Altaïr and Isis boarded an airship bound for Dundorma.
The journey went smoothly.
—--
Two days later, they left behind the sweltering, furnace-like heat of Latio Active Volcano and arrived in Dundorma, with its four distinct seasons.
It was the dead of winter. Snow had fallen the night before, leaving the air cold and crisp.
As she stepped off the airship, Isis opened her mouth as wide as a shark's and took several deep breaths. She expelled the last traces of volcanic ash from her lungs, then sneezed violently and immediately felt much more refreshed.
Isis sniffled, bent over, and rubbed her hands vigorously against her thighs. "Have to admit, it really is cold."
Located in the center of the continent, Dundorma did not experience the extreme subzero temperatures of the Frozen Seaway or the Snowy Mountains, but after a snowfall like this, the temperature could still drop below freezing.
The rest of her Kuarusepu Armor Set covered her snugly, but her thighs were exposed, with neither armor nor fabric to protect them. When the cold wind blew, even someone with her constitution felt the chill.
Her exceptional height only made matters worse. Her legs were much longer than an average person's, leaving even more skin exposed.
Struggling to tear his gaze away from those pale, bare thighs, Altaïr cleared his throat. "Ahem... that's only natural. When we get home, you can find a pair of tight leather pants to wear underneath. They'll keep you warm and won't chafe against the edges of your armor.
"Wrap this around yourself for now. It'll keep the wind off."
Altaïr unfastened the decorative cloak from his back and handed it to Isis.
Isis did not stand on ceremony. She took the cloak and wrapped it around her waist. It looked a little odd, but at least she was warmer.
She scratched her head. "I should have some tight pants at home, but they might not fit anymore. Let's stop by a shop later and buy a few more pairs."
Sajji, dressed like a miniature Tigrex walking on two legs, tilted his head at her. "Will Isis even find the right size, meow?"
Isis's face fell. "No... I'll have to get them custom-made."
Altaïr grimaced. It was not just Isis; even he sometimes struggled to find ready-made clothes in the right size.
Isis had now topped out at one hundred and ninety-five centimeters and was not growing any taller.
His own skeletal development was nearly complete, and he had finally passed one hundred and ninety centimeters, if only just, reaching one hundred and ninety-one.
With his helmet on, the two of them could almost pass for the same height when standing side by side.
Still, he had not given up yet.
Before their growth plates fully closed, men in their early twenties sometimes got a second growth spurt. With more stretching exercises and a greater intake of meat, they might gain a few more centimeters.
He had shared the idea with Morgan, who now did fifteen minutes of stretching before bed and after waking up without fail. Altaïr decided to follow suit.
Maybe he still had a chance to surpass her in this lifetime!
...Probably.
There were few pedestrians on the snow-covered streets. The crunch of armored boots on the snow was oddly satisfying, so the two humans and two Felynes deliberately took the long way before finally reaching the small house where Isis lived.
From a distance, they could see steam rising from the chimney, proof that someone was home. Isis ran ahead happily, ready to call out.
Altaïr had been completely relaxed, but something caught his eye. His pupils contracted, and he yanked her back so hard that she nearly stumbled.
Isis looked at him in confusion and found his face taut with barely concealed tension and fear.
"What's wrong?" she asked, utterly baffled.
Altaïr stammered, "I... well... There's no time to explain. Anyway, I'm leaving. I'll rent a room at the Gathering Hall!"
Before he had even finished speaking, he turned to run.
This time, it was Isis's turn to pull him back.
"Why are you suddenly going to rent a place? Didn't we agree you'd stay at my house? Your luggage has already been sent over..."
Isis's grip was not something an ordinary girl could match. Being caught by her felt like being locked in shackles. If she did not want to let go, he could not easily break free.
Despite his overwhelming anxiety, he had no choice but to force himself to be patient. He lowered his voice and explained quickly, "You told me the room on the east side of the first floor belongs to your parents, right? And it's normally locked, with no one going inside, right?"
"Yeah. Only Amos goes in occasionally to clean it."
"There's condensation on the window, and the snow on the windowsill has melted. That means the room is warm and someone is using it."
"..."
Isis blinked, then her eyes widened. "Someone's using Mom and Dad's room? You mean...?!"
"Good observational skills."
A female voice entirely unfamiliar to Altaïr came from the courtyard gate behind them.
Altaïr turned around stiffly.
Isis, meanwhile, released his hand, cheered, and ran over to embrace the newcomer. "Mom! When did you two get back?!"
The newcomer was a woman with a gentle demeanor, dressed in ordinary winter clothes. At over one hundred and eighty centimeters tall, she was not quite as extraordinary as Isis, but she was still exceptionally tall. Her features were perhaps sixty or seventy percent similar to Isis's, especially her bud-green eyes, which were almost identical.
The way Isis addressed her confirmed the woman's identity.
At that moment, Altaïr desperately wanted to slap himself.
Why? Why had he been so disloyal? Morgan had covered for him by dealing with the Brute Tigrex. How could he not have gone north with him to hunt the Barioth?
If he could disappear from here this instant, he would gladly hunt a hundred Barioth alongside Morgan!
Or at the very least, he could have returned to Loc Lac with Ted and Malika, then come to Dundorma once his leave was almost over!
After hugging Isis affectionately for a moment, the woman released her. Her eyes, glinting with teasing amusement, settled on Altaïr.
Altaïr struggled to force a polite smile; he did not dare imagine how stiff his expression must have looked.
"N-nice to meet you. I'm Altaïr." His voice trembled slightly.
The woman looked Altaïr over, then her gaze shifted briefly to the cloak wrapped around Isis's waist. Her expression softened. "I'm Isis's mother, Hayata. Hmm, I suppose this isn't exactly our first meeting.
"We actually met once last year in Loc Lac, but you were unconscious at the time."
That was not easy to answer, but Altaïr did everything he could to keep the conversation going and avoid an awkward silence.
He bowed his head slightly. "Ms. Hayata, I am deeply grateful for the secret scroll you left behind. It has helped me tremendously."
"It was only a few notes I had jotted down." Hayata smiled gently. "Calling me Ms. Hayata feels a little formal. Since you're Isis's boyfriend, just call me Auntie.
"Come on. It's cold out here, so let's go inside."
As she spoke, she turned to Isis. "Your father decided on a whim to cook for us today and sent me out to buy more ingredients. You've arrived at just the right time; we can make lunch a little more elaborate."
Isis took the heavy grocery basket from her mother's hands with a giggle. "Dad is cooking? I don't think I've ever tasted Dad's cooking. Is he any good?"
"It's edible, but don't get your hopes up."
Mother and daughter stepped onto the doorstep. Altaïr remained frozen in place, not daring to move.
Hayata opened the door, looked back at him, and said with a hint of teasing in her voice, "What are you standing there for? Hurry up and come inside.
"Isis's father has been saying for ages that he wants to meet you."
Altaïr fell silent.
...
Just let me disappear. I'd even settle for hunting a hundred Barioth...