Monster Hunter:Volume3 Chapter4

Chapter 4 - Land of the Rock Wyvern

Standing at the mouth of the ravine that led from base camp into Area 2, Zeeg could only let out a silent groan as he looked up at the massive black boulder planted squarely in their path.

According to the guild cart driver who had brought them to this volcanic region, a minor eruption just a few days prior had triggered a landslide that collapsed part of the cliff and blocked off the direct route into Area 2.

From the map, their only remaining option was a roundabout detour through a lava-filled cave - far from ideal.

The Basarios were known to inhabit Areas 2 and 3, with the majority of sightings reported in Area 2. The job details even stated that the trade caravan had been attacked in that very spot - which made this a hassle.

If the path were open, they could have dashed back to camp for treatment if they were poisoned - but a detour would render that tactic useless. They had brought some antidotes, of course, but they'd planned under the assumption that camp would be within quick reach. Their supply wasn't bottomless.

The obvious solution was not to get poisoned at all - but unexpected things happened. Especially - Zeeg glanced at Brass - the problem was this boy.

From the outset, Brass had been lugging around a pack stuffed to bursting with all manner of tools. The most egregious offenders were three books - not novels or anything trivial, but Books of Combos. Zeeg himself had one, though he'd left it at the guest house. Brass claimed to have memorized the contents, yet insisted on bringing all three, calling them his lucky charms - said they made his mixing more successful just by being there.

Hunters were a superstitious bunch, to be fair. Zeeg still wore an ornament he'd made from a shard of the first Yian Kut-Ku scale he'd ever broken. He understood the sentiment. But three volumes were, in his view, plain excessive.

Brass hadn't forgotten anything else, either - he had pickaxes for mining, and even bug nets. Not just one of each, either - he'd brought as many as he could carry, and his pack bulged so much he was already out of breath after a short walk.

"Perhaps we could break open this path..." said Enta as he stepped forward and rapped the boulder with the back of his fist. The glossy black surface rang out with a clear note, echoing high into the cliffs above their camp. It was dense. Maybe a Large Barrel Bomb would do the trick... but using a precious item like that on a hunch didn't sit right with Zeeg.

"...Shall I give it a try?"

Enta's hands drifted to the dual blades at his waist.

Zeeg raised a hand. "Don't. If the blades chip, we'll be in trouble when the real fight starts. A slash won't even leave a scratch on rocks that color and tone."

"...Point taken," Enta replied, lips curving into a faint grin as he withdrew his hand in a fluid, almost theatrical motion.

Zeeg narrowed his eyes. He'd been tested.

Enta had known the rock wouldn't budge. The display had been for Zeeg's benefit - to see how he'd react. Within a hunting party, it made sense to size up one's allies' judgment. Rank and paperwork never told the whole story. Still, knowing didn't make it any less irritating.

Zeeg swallowed his annoyance and unrolled the map against the rough stone so everyone could see. He pointed to the area where the cliff had collapsed.

"...With the path to Area 2 blocked, we've got no choice but to go through the cave. Fortunately, we've got Cool Drinks in the supply box, so heatstroke shouldn't be a problem. First, though, let's check Area 3 - see if the Basarios wandered over there."

"A reasonable plan," Enta said with a nod, though his tone was so neutral Zeeg couldn't tell whether he meant it or was mocking him.

Zeeg kept his expression unreadable, but he caught himself thinking - No, that won't do. He was wound too tight. Too focused on making this work. Pressure like that could cloud his judgment - and in the field, that led to one outcome: death.

He folded the map and tucked it into the flap of his boot, then turned to Brass.

The boy straightened as Zeeg's gaze landed on him. Standing tall like that, he was actually a bit taller than Zeeg. His armor - a full set of the blue-scaled Velociprey gear - looked fragile for a fight against a flying wyvern. And with all those tools weighing him down...

Zeeg sighed softly, jerking his chin toward the overstuffed pack.

"Brass. You'll have to leave some of your stuff behind."

"H-huh!?" The boy's expression was a portrait of shock. Zeeg had to stifle a snort. It's not like he'd told him to leave his sword behind. "B-but, without my tools, how would I-"

"I didn't say everything. Ditch the pickaxes and bug nets - you won't have time for gathering. You'd be better off watching how we fight. I mean, you weren't supposed to even be on this quest, really - the only reason you're here is because the Guild in Minegarde put in a word for you. Don't waste the opportunity."

"Th-then! What about my Book of Combos!? I-I need those! Without them, I-I wouldn't know what to do!"

"Bring one."

"Just one!?"

"They're bulky. What's the point of hunting if you don't have space to carry anything you carve out? Would you be willing to trash the books then?"

Brass shook his head violently and hunched protectively over his pack, as if Zeeg might rip the books away by force. Zeeg didn't correct him. If fear got the boy to leave the extra volumes behind, then all the better.

"Go on. Drop it off."

With a resigned nod, Brass shuffled back toward the tent, slumping to his knees beside his pack and digging through it with exaggerated care.

Hunters came in all kinds. Most hunted to make a living, but some found meaning in collecting rare insects or discovering new species. Others became obsessed with acquiring every single piece of gear the world had to offer.

Brass would probably grow into one of those.

("Now, then...")

Zeeg used the lull to draw on his memory - trying to map out a plan for dealing with the Basarios. He'd previously faced the monster both solo and with a team - and now, the latter was far more relevant.

Back when he'd hunted with Elmeria's party, Gannon always acted as the decoy. Zeeg and Elmeria would slip through the opening he created, striking hard, while Fradio kept any other monsters from interfering. That had been their usual formation. Fradio's weapon, the Tankmage, couldn't fire support ammo like Antidote rounds, so it was vital for the team to read the Basarios' tells and avoid its poisonous attacks altogether.

But this time, there would be no decoy.

Zeeg's greatsword could be used like a shield in a pinch, but that wasn't its intended purpose. Enta's dual blades offered no defensive utility, and while Brass was the only one with a shield, pushing him straight into a flying wyvern's path was out of the question.

Vivi wielded a light bowgun - the Dark Parasol - capable of using support ammo Fradio couldn't, but in exchange, its attack power was relatively low. She couldn't be relied upon to deal with the smaller monsters that would inevitably scavenge the leftovers from a wounded Basarios.

In effect, it would be up to Zeeg and Enta to handle the hunt. Zeeg accepted that. He hadn't yet seen how Enta fought, but the way the man moved - swift, almost gliding - gave him a hunch. If he could rely on Enta for hit-and-run tactics, sweeping up stragglers and pulling the monster's focus, Zeeg could close in beneath the Basarios' legs, strike when the opening came, and retreat at the first sign of a windup. Once the poison had cleared, he'd go back in and repeat. A simple rhythm, but one that worked.

As for Vivi, she could stay back and provide recovery ammo to anyone injured. She might even help with crowd control, using paralysis, sleep, or poison rounds to tip the scales. Her weapon was high-spec, able to load nearly every type of ammo save for Water, Thunder, and Pierce rounds.

Before they departed, Zeeg had asked her to bring extra Antidote rounds. If she'd done as asked, it would make the hunt far more manageable. They wouldn't need to waste time dodging every poison cloud - he could just keep swinging.

"How many Antidote rounds do you have, Vivi?"

"I brought twenty, if that's enough," she replied.

More than enough. If they needed more than that, they had no business calling themselves hunters of their current rank - and the hunt would likely fail anyway.

Before long, Brass returned with slumped shoulders. Zeeg waited for him, then started forward without a word. Brass's pack was still bulging - he might've sneaked a second book in. Zeeg could have scolded him and made him leave it behind, but decided against it. Being too strict might snuff out what motivation Becky had instilled in the boy before entrusting him to them.

With Zeeg in the lead, they set out from the base camp, taking the right-hand path toward Area 1 with the river behind them. Their boots crunched over the gray soil as they moved, alert to their surroundings. The gravel near camp made too much noise - a frequent cause of unwanted attention - but at least there wasn't enough open ground for a wyvern to land nearby.

They filed down the narrow trail, emerging into a barren, ash-colored expanse. Legend had it this place had turned gray from years of volcanic ash raining down, seeping into the earth over countless generations.

A blot of red appeared in that colorless landscape - not lava, not flowers, but living muscle. Red-scaled, carnivorous Ioprey. Zeeg's brow twitched at the memory their appearance brought to mind: his last hunt with Elmeria's party.

"...Five of them," Enta murmured behind him, voice taut as a drawn bowstring. His tone made his message clear: We'll be coming back this way. Better to clear them out now.

That was understandable. If the Basarios was holed up in Area 3, this would be their fallback route. Trying to retreat through an Ioprey pack while wounded would be a death sentence. They weren't just fast and vicious - they leaped like hellspawn and spat poison to boot.

"Be on guard," Enta said with a glint in his eye, "Crimson swarm draws near; flames flow in the broken land; the first clash begins."

He turned to Brass. His look said - Ready?

Brass stiffened. His eyes widened, and for a moment, it seemed he would shake his head - then he stopped himself.

Strange kid, Zeeg thought. Coming on a hunt and trying to avoid a fight.

"No one said you'd be doing it alone," he said dryly.

He tore open the wrapping on one of their rations - a whole hunk of meat or a proper meal would've been ideal, but supply meals like these were far more efficient - and devoured it in one bite. The boost to stamina and fullness would carry him through the hunt. Enta and Vivi followed suit. Brass hesitated, then with trembling hands, unwrapped his own and forced it down, visibly struggling to swallow.

It would take a few seconds for the nutrients to kick in. Zeeg turned back to scan the Ioprey pack... and nearly choked.

Enta was already moving. No stealth. No caution. Just striding toward the Ioprey as if he hadn't a care in the world. Zeeg reached out instinctively - but it was too late.

One of the Ioprey noticed him and shrieked, its shrill cry tearing through the air.

("Seriously!?")

Zeeg cursed under his breath, dropped the visor on his Rathalos Helm, and burst from cover. As he ran, he called to Brass-

"Let's go!"

-And drew his Lacerator Blade+, gripping the handle tight.

Enta drew his dual blades from his hips and stepped forward, his speed unreal for a motion that still looked like a walk. Zeeg was running, yet couldn't catch up - a disorienting feeling.

Before he could reach him, Enta was surrounded. Five Ioprey, all teeth and claws. There was no escape. Zeeg would have to carve a path in - if he made it in time.

A crack rang out behind him - the pop of igniting gunpowder - and a breeze coiled past his ear.

One of the Ioprey jerked as a neat hole appeared in the ridge above its eye. Flesh ruptured, blood sprayed, and the creature crumpled as though struck by an invisible hammer. Zeeg didn't need to turn around - Vivi's cover fire, sharp and precise as expected.

But one down meant four remained - still more than enough to tear Enta apart. The man wore the Shinobi armor series - sleek and light, but offering almost no real protection. Against Ioprey fangs and claws, it might as well have been paper.

Vivi's next shot would take time to aim. It wouldn't come fast enough.

The remaining Ioprey hunched low - then sprang into the air. Vivi managed to drop one mid-leap - but the other three came crashing down as a single mass of red onto Enta, threatening to crush him beneath their weight.

Zeeg's skin prickled with goosebumps, the sensation sharp enough to make him want to say aloud - No way!

He's dead, was his first thought.

Anger came before grief.

What the hell's with the dual blades bravado? All that big talk - and he goes and dies on our first damn hunt together!?

A crushing weight pressed onto Zeeg's shoulders, though he knew full well he wasn't the one to blame. Enta had charged ahead without coordination. He told himself that, and repeated it in his mind. This isn't your fault. Enta brought it on himself.

But the guilt didn't dissipate. It felt as though Enta's ghost was hanging from his arm, dragging him down. Still, he couldn't stop now. If he hesitated, if he didn't lift his sword and keep fighting, more of his party might end up dead.

Bowgun users were vulnerable up close. Brass was not safe, either - maybe he'd fought Ioprey before, but the ones in a random field and the ones in the Guild's designated hunting zones were in a different league entirely.

Gritting his teeth, Zeeg raised his Lacerator Blade+... and froze.

The Ioprey that had landed on Enta weren't moving. Not a twitch. They weren't tearing into him, nor preparing to strike again. They lay piled atop one another as though they'd been doused in sleeping gas.

Then, with a wet, slipping sound, the topmost Ioprey slid off its kin and hit the ground.

The other two followed, slumping over lifelessly. From beneath the collapsed carcasses, Enta emerged - kneeling, his dual blades crossed before his chest. He rose to his feet as if nothing had happened. At a glance, he bore no visible injuries. With a single elegant motion, he swung his blades once and sheathed them behind his back, folding his arms.

Zeeg stared, momentarily awestruck.

But the moment passed. The awe gave way to a fresh surge of rage.

This bastard... After prompting Brass to get ready, he charges in without a damn word!?

In a party hunt, coordination was everything. Everyone's specialty had to be used in harmony. And Enta, with his light armor, was not built for headlong assaults.

"Hey!" Zeeg barked, slinging his greatsword back over his shoulder and striding toward Enta with long, furious steps.

Relief - cold and fleeting - washed away the weight on his shoulders the moment he realized Enta was alive. But if he let that reckless behavior slide, the same thing could happen again. Zeeg wasn't about to take responsibility for a man who threw his own life away on a whim. Even if he had to beat some sense into him. Age didn't matter. Rank didn't matter.

But as that thought settled, his fury began to ebb.

That's me, he realized. That was me.

No, he hadn't been that reckless. On his last hunt with Elmeria, he had followed her strategy. Well - until the end, when he'd challenged her plans and tried to act on his own.

Still... was it really so different?

If he had rushed in alone against that Rathian and died, Elmeria would've blamed herself. Even if she said otherwise, she would have regretted failing to stop him.

And maybe it wasn't just about sparing her that burden. Maybe it was about acknowledging that his own actions had put her in that position to begin with.

But that didn't mean Enta should get a free pass. Zeeg drew in a deep breath and steadied himself. Then, stepping over the Ioprey corpses, he came to a stop in front of Enta.

The man's single eye didn't smirk or shine with pride. There was no arrogance in the curve of his lips - no air of self-congratulation. He was short, lean, and composed. Zeeg stared into that single eye, feeling its weight.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Zeeg said, forcing the remnants of his anger into the words.

At his feet, the Ioprey he'd slain first had already begun to dissolve, its fluids bubbling up with the stench of rot.

Ioprey, Velociprey, Genprey - they all shared the same biological quirk. Upon death, their internal fluids reacted with air, hastening decomposition. Time was critical for carving materials, but if he stopped to scold Enta after harvesting, it would turn into a joke.

"You trying to get yourself killed? Just because they're Ioprey doesn't mean-"

"I had no such intention," Enta cut in flatly. "I acted because I was able. Nothing more. A mere five Ioprey are no threat to me. And... I wished to see your capabilities for myself."

"What?" Zeeg said, blinking.

"If you hadn't become angry at my actions, it would've meant you lacked the foresight to lead. But you did get angry - therefore, I trust you have the bigger picture in mind." Enta slowly uncrossed his arms. "One's true nature cannot be observed without hunting alongside them. Interviews and paperwork say next to nothing."

So it wasn't just Enta being judged - he had been testing Zeeg as well.

Obvious, in hindsight. Zeeg had thought he was the only one sizing others up, but that had never been the case.

He exhaled slowly. With the breath, the heat left his head, and clarity returned.

Did I do the same to Elmeria?

Was he constantly measuring her as a leader? Did she ever feel that?

Maybe.

If she had become cautious over time, that would've made sense - but that didn't excuse everything. Being too cautious was just as dangerous as being reckless. One couldn't avoid risk and expect to succeed in a hunt. What mattered was knowing where the line between life and death truly was.

"I get what you're saying," Zeeg said.

Enta's pupil contracted slightly, as if to say - Oh?

"But this doesn't happen again. If you go rogue like that, it throws the rest of us off. I get it - you're fast. But if we don't coordinate, we won't survive against a flying wyvern. Not even you can think you'll take one down solo in a Guild-assigned hunt, right?"

"If ordered, I would do it," Enta replied. His gaze didn't waver. He wasn't boasting. His eye said the same message: I can, and if I must, I will. "...But I understand. I will follow your lead - as long as I do not believe your strategy to be foolish."

"Well, you don't mince words, do you?"

"Politeness helps no one in the field - Lips sealed in shadow; what's buried rots in the dark; no one knows your truth - That is the way of things."

"...Yeah, sure."

At last, Zeeg found it in himself to smile - even if only a wry one.

Enta was right.

Nothing would ever be understood if left unsaid. Assuming others would understand without words was nothing more than wishful thinking - convenient fiction to ease one's own conscience. Some might insist otherwise, but that only meant they thought they'd been understood, not that they truly had.

In everyday life, such misunderstandings could sometimes smooth things over. But out in the field, in the hunt, assumptions only doubled the danger.

That, Zeeg thought, was the core of what Enta was trying to say... even if he could be wrong about that, too.

"...Still. That was some impressive marksmanship," Enta said suddenly, shifting the conversation without warning as he looked down at two of the fallen Ioprey.

Zeeg knew exactly who he meant. Vivi.

Her shot had been flawless - striking the skull, instantly killing the creatures. The Ioprey hadn't been stationary either; one had even been lunging straight for Enta when she'd fired, nailing it right between the eyes.

If Fradio's heavy bowgun was a spear, then Vivi's light bowgun was a needle. With her precision, she could shoot in the thick of battle without ever worrying about friendly fire, no matter how wild the melee.

"She's clearly had intensive training," Enta added, nodding slightly.

"You think so?" Zeeg replied.

"At that age, such skill doesn't come without discipline. I'd wager she had a bowgun in her hands before she could read - raised for it, like you, perhaps. What do they call that - gifted upbringing?"

Zeeg let out a dry breath. "If she was 'raised' for anything, I doubt it was a blessing. More likely she just didn't have a choice. Hunting was probably the only way forward."

Enta tilted his head. "The same goes for you?"

"Yeah," Zeeg said quietly. He looked down at the Ioprey as they crumbled completely, the wind scattering the remnants across the gray ash. "My village's whole livelihood revolves around hunting. Most people pick up a blade because they have to. There's no other path. I figure she's the same."

Elmeria, raised a hunter, was the weird one out, he thought - but even that, he wasn't so sure about anymore.

He'd always believed Elmeria was shaped by Gannon's guidance - what Enta might've called "gifted upbringing" - becoming a fearsome hunter at an age most were still swinging sticks at dummies. But the life of a hunter was harsh - perilous beyond measure. And Gannon had claimed to be indebted to her supposed father. If he had truly wanted to protect Elmeria, why had he led her into this life?

Sure, maybe Gannon had no other trade to pass on. But with his skill, he could've made enough to raise her safely without sending her into the jaws of death. He didn't have to turn her into a hunter.

"Compared to Lady Vivi, then, what do you make of that?"

Enta's voice trailed in with a faint chuckle, snapping Zeeg out of his thoughts. He shouldn't waste time mulling over Elmeria. It wasn't like they'd be crossing paths again anytime soon - nor did he plan to.

"Huh? Make of what?"

Enta pointed behind Zeeg.

Zeeg turned - and was greeted by the sight of a backside poking out from behind a boulder. Loose, dark pants, a long waist-cloth swaying slightly - that was the Velociprey Tassets. Of course it was. There wasn't anyone else it could be. That backside belonged to Brass. Resting just above it were his sword - the Bone Spike - and shield, both still strapped to his back, untouched.

("So he turned tail on the Ioprey? Unbelievable...")

Zeeg stared, dumbfounded.

They weren't the easiest foes, true, but compared to a Yian Kut-Ku or a real wyvern, they were fodder. For Brass to cower behind a rock like that - without even drawing his sword - was pathetic. Zeeg couldn't imagine how this boy had ever taken down a Kut-Ku. He doubted the Guild would've been fooled, but still - it made him wonder if that résumé had been polished a little too hard.

Nearby, Vivi calmly maintained her Dark Parasol, seemingly unconcerned by Brass's retreat. She offered no reprimand, no judgment - just silence. That, too, struck Zeeg as a bit of a problem.

Zeeg walked over to the boulder and called out, "Hey."

Brass jumped, his backside twitching before he scrambled upright and peeked around the rock.

"Ah... I-it's over already...?" he said meekly.

His complexion was pale, his voice sheepish. Zeeg could also see a faint trace of lingering tension in his posture. And then, he noticed something - Brass was holding something in his hand.

"What's that you've got there?"

"Oh, this...?" Brass opened his palm without protest.

A cluster of hard, round plants sat in his hand - Huskberries.

Zeeg's eyes narrowed. Seriously? This kid was gathering materials while Enta and Vivi were fighting?

"They're Huskberries," Brass said quickly, as if sensing the incoming scolding. "I... I thought I wouldn't be any help in the fight, so I figured I could at least collect some of these..."

Zeeg nearly dropped his jaw in disbelief.

Sure, Enta had stolen the spotlight with that display, leaving no room for interference - but still. To not even try drawing his blade and instead go gathering during combat? He'd never seen a hunter like this before.

"And what exactly were you planning to do with those?" Zeeg asked, still half in disbelief.

"Well... make ammo for Miss Vivi, of course," Brass said, blinking in confusion. "With some fluids from the fish near base camp, I can mix up Level 2 Pierce and Level 1 Crag shots..."

Zeeg had no idea. He knew what Huskberries were, of course, but he always discarded them the moment he picked them up. The only things he ever mixed were potions and bombs. He wasn't a gunner. Ammo synthesis had never even crossed his mind.

"Interesting," came Enta's voice, suddenly beside them - silent as a shadow. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So you assessed the situation, saw where you could contribute, and acted accordingly... In other words, not cowardice."

"Well... I was scared," Brass admitted, flashing a stiff, nervous grin.

Zeeg could tell what the boy had been trying to do, at least. In that moment, with those monsters bearing down on Enta, even if Brass had drawn his weapon, it wouldn't have made a difference. Zeeg himself hadn't made it in time, and he was far more experienced. Worst case, Brass might've just gotten in Vivi's line of fire.

"Mixing's fine and all," Zeeg said, "But save it for when there aren't monsters around. You never know when we'll need your hands. If someone calls for a potion and you're elbow-deep in gathering, that's no help to anyone."

"...I'm sorry," Brass mumbled, head drooping.

Zeeg wasn't one for lectures - never had been - but this was part of mentoring a rookie. They were risking their lives together. That meant facing the ugly parts too. If Brass were hunting solo, Zeeg wouldn't have cared if he paused to forage mid-battle or tried to fish while a wyvern circled overhead. But in a hunting party, one person's careless move could get someone else killed.

"You better mean it. We're counting on you."

He gave Brass a light pat on the shoulder, then turned to head down the path leading into Area 3. According to the map, the narrow canyon ahead would open into a wide basin - the likely nesting ground of the Basarios they were tracking.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Zeeg spotted Brass shuffling behind with his back hunched, scanning the area like he still hoped to spot something worth gathering. Enta walked beside him with a stiff, almost mechanical grace, hardly moving his upper body. Trailing behind them was Vivi, twirling her open Dark Parasol like an actual parasol, the frilled edges swaying gently with each step.

It looked like some bizarre field trip.

Zeeg fought the urge to clutch his temples and tilted his face toward the sulfur-tinged sky, that high expanse of pale blue hanging overhead. He let out a silent sigh, barely more than a breath.

"SO TASTY!"

The shout rang out beneath the high blue sky, and a judge hurried over to the hunter who had called. He scrutinized the massive hunk of spit-roasted meat - bone-in and dripping with juices - then poked it with a finger, gave it a sniff, and gave a decisive nod.

"SO TASTY!"

He echoed the words with ceremonial flair, raising his flag. An attendant came sprinting in with a large metal platter, received the perfectly grilled Well-Done Steak, and hurried back toward base camp. The judge, without missing a beat, stamped the card hanging from the hunter's neck.

"SO TASTY!"

Another call echoed from somewhere else, and the judge turned on his heel and made for the next participant.

The hunter who had just completed his delivery took another hunk of Raw Meat from a nearby stack and set it on the Gourmet BBQ Spit, sliding it onto the rotating rod. He fitted the handle into place and immediately began turning it with a serious expression.

"...Young Mistress."

"Huh? Ah-!"

By the time Gannon's voice reached Elmeria, it was already too late. She hastily lifted the handle, but the meat was charred black, belching out a thick plume of smoke. The outside had carbonized completely, and the burnt crust flaked off the moment she shook it.

Sighing in defeat, Elmeria laid the Burnt Meat onto the cloth spread beside her. It was not the first piece to meet such a fate. More than ten others already lay there, forming a small mountain of failure.

She had joined the Meat Grill Festival in hopes of lifting her spirits. But far from cheering her up, the activity only deepened the gloom in her heart. Every time she grilled meat, her mind unavoidably drifted back to Zeeg. Even now, she could remember it all too clearly.

It had been during a Rathalos hunt - something she'd reluctantly agreed to take him on at the request of the Minegarde Guild Master. With little else for him to do, she had told Zeeg to grill some meat. He had spun the handle of the spit while humming the BBQ Song - the very first tune every novice hunter learns.

Not that it had actual lyrics. The song was more of a rhythmic hum that trained a hunter's body to recognize the perfect moment to lift the meat from the fire. The catchy tune was popular in taverns, where hunters would sling arms over shoulders and belt out their own nonsense verses, but no one actually sang it on the field.

Or so Elmeria had thought - until she met Zeeg.

Years had passed since then, and yet he never stopped singing that off-key song. She had told him to drop it at first - after all, making noise during a hunt could alert monsters to their presence - but in time, she gave up. Odd as it was, his tuneless humming had a way of easing the tension in the air.

And now she would never hear it again.

The realization struck her more heavily than she had expected. How had she not noticed until now? That even at a simple festival, the absence of that ridiculous song could leave her so hollow?

Another sigh escaped her lips. She slumped forward, letting the breath drain the last of her willpower. There was no point in grilling meat in this mood - no way it would ever come out well done like this.

Beside her, Gannon had also stopped turning his spit. From the corner of her eye, she saw him remove a still-rare piece of meat from the rod.

"...Don't let me stop you," she said. "Go ahead and grill."

"No need. I was... not particularly eager to do it anyway."

"...Right."

Another sigh built up in her chest, and this time she didn't fight it. As the breath left her, so did her resolve. A strange lethargy took hold, and even the hammer strapped to her back felt unbearably heavy.

"...Hey, Gannon." She stared into the flames of the makeshift campfire, voice little more than a murmur. "Do you think I've become... cowardly?"

"Are you still troubled by what Zeeg said?"

"...Honestly, yeah. I knew I'd been making mistakes lately. I can understand why he was frustrated. But - was I wrong? Please. Be honest."

Gannon fiddled silently with the spit handle he'd removed from the bone. There had been a time when he would've scolded her for even asking. Lately, though, he hardly offered his opinions at all. She had once thought that meant he'd come to recognize her as a fully-fledged hunter.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

Throughout her career, she had dismissed people from her party - but no one had ever cast her out.

"...You were not necessarily wrong, Young Mistress." His words were carefully measured. "However... your views and his have grown apart. That is all. Every hunter draws the line somewhere - how far to push, when to retreat. Zeeg had started to feel confident. After slaying a Monoblos and upgrading to Rathalos armor, he likely began to think he would not go down so easily. That outlook... clashed with your own. You believed in returning from a hunt unscathed. But Zeeg - he wanted to finish the job, even if it meant breaking a bone."

"...That's inefficient. Break a bone and you're out for months. Muscle loss, less training - it's no different from that Khezu girl with her hero complex."

"It is something many greenhorns go through."

"Wait. Are you saying Zeeg is still one, after all this time?"

Gannon, his fingers clasped together, his neck thick as a log, gave a slow nod. His face was still partially wrapped in bandages. The Rathian poison had reached his optic nerves and still hadn't completely left his system. According to the Guild's in-house doctors, full recovery was uncertain.

"But... he took down a Monoblos."

"Hunters are not judged by the size or species of the monsters they have hunted. The Guild's Hunter Rank might reflect skill level - but it does not define whether someone is truly seasoned or not. Are you familiar with the party called Crimson Avian Wings?"

Of course she was. Four men, all close to fifty, known for hunting practically nothing but Yian Kut-Ku.

They'd been in the trade a long time, yet still wore full Kut-Ku armor - a production line without a helmet. None of them ever substituted helmets from other wyvern sets, either.

Their weapons told a similar story. The two greatsword users wielded the Iron Gospel katana. The lance wielder used a Babel Spear. The bowgunner carried a Grenade Launcher. All weapons crafted without a single flying wyvern part.

Many hunters mocked them for going after nothing but Kut-Ku.

Elmeria understood the sentiment - after all, she'd spent years hunting alongside Fradio, who was much the same. He always went after Gypceros when hunting solo. She didn't see it as something to deride; it was simply another way of doing things. That said, Fradio could take on other flying wyverns when he chose to. Which made him a different case entirely.

But Gannon - he saw things differently. He recognized their worth.

"...There are hunters who call them cowards, but they are not. They chose Yian Kut-Ku after long years of hunting. It is not that they can not hunt other wyverns. They simply would not. Very few know this, but it is the truth - those men were instrumental in repelling the Lao-Shan Lung time and time again. Even during the chaos in Minegarde, they fought valiantly, though few noticed. They are, in every sense of the word, seasoned hunters. It is not enough to just slay wyverns and chase a higher Hunter Rank. That sort of mindset leads to a short life. You, Young Mistress, may not be fully aware of it - but I believe you have sensed that truth, and that is why you have grown more cautious lately, yes?"

Had she? She wasn't sure. It was her own heart she was talking about, and yet she couldn't quite grasp it.

There was no doubt, however, that she didn't want Zeeg getting hurt.

She remembered shouting at him once, when he'd brushed off a fractured bone like it was a mere scrape. It angered her - because it felt like he truly believed that. Like he saw broken bones as no more than splinters.

Maybe that was why she'd pulled on the reins whenever he acted recklessly. Maybe. But it wasn't the whole picture - surely not. She just didn't want to look too closely at what else might be there.

"...So," Elmeria said quietly, "you don't think I've gone soft? That I've stopped being a real hunter?"

"Not at all, Young Mistress," Gannon replied. "Zeeg still has a long way to go, but he too is a hunter. His life - or death - is his own to choose. You are not responsible for that. On the contrary, as a fellow hunter, you should respect his decisions."

A nearby hunter's cheerful voice rang out: "SO TASTY!"

Elmeria sighed as the smell of meat drifted over.

"...I know that. I know, logically. But still - if someone dies because I made the wrong call, I do feel responsible."

It wasn't as though no one had ever died on a hunt with her. True, Gannon had assured her she'd never lost someone due to a clear mistake in judgment. But even so - when death came, it came. And Elmeria had never forgotten any of them.

"At least when it comes to me, you don't need to worry."

She turned at the sound of Fradio's voice. He stood nearby, shoulders burdened with a mountain of raw meat. The scent of blood and gunpowder clung to him, strong and acrid. Judging by the thickness of the bones jutting from the slabs, it was raw Aptonoth meat. Their supplies must've run dry, and he'd gone out hunting to replenish them.

"If things really go south, I'll be the first to run," he said casually. "Well, unless it's a Gypceros. In that case, I'll die happily at her feet..."

Ugh, not me, Elmeria thought, though she didn't say it aloud. People had different tastes, sure, but she couldn't, for the life of her, see that thing as beautiful. The idea of being crushed beneath its feet or dying in agony from its poison made her stomach turn.

Whether Fradio failed to notice her revulsion or simply didn't care, he casually mounted a slab of meat on a Gourmet BBQ Spit, fitted the handle, and began turning it slowly over the flame.

"If words aren't enough to ease your worry, there's a simple solution," he said. "Go on a hunt. Bring someone else along if you like. Or go as the three of us used to. That'll show you how you truly feel - ah, SO TASTY!"

Fradio raised the perfectly grilled meat, crisped and golden, and waved for the appraiser.

A moment later, the judge flew in to examine it, throat audibly gulping.

"P-PERFECT!!"

The shout was met with cheers and murmurs from the hunters nearby. "Perfect, huh?" someone echoed with a laugh. A perfectly grilled slab of meat was fittingly called Gourmet Steak - and folks had taken to giving it the PERFECT! call as an honorary mark of excellence when the cook hit it just right.

Fradio handed over the steak for delivery and received five stamps on the card that hung against his bare chest, then grabbed another cut of raw meat.

"If you want my opinion," he said, "you should go hunt a wyvern. There's no better way to see if you've lost your nerve. They're terrifying even on a normal day - if you're still sharp, you'll know it the moment you face one."

He was right.

Brooding wouldn't bring her answers, and no one else could hand her one on a platter. It was her issue. If she really had turned into a coward... she'd know the moment she stood before a wyvern.

("That's all it is,") she told herself. ("Just getting back to the way things were.")

That was all.

There was no need to think about Zeeg doing something reckless and dying. He had a clever streak, and he wasn't one to get swept up in some misguided sense of justice. If things got truly dangerous, he'd fall back. Just like Gannon had said - their standards were simply different. She didn't even want to imagine him dying.

Elmeria picked up a cut of raw meat, mounted it on the spit, and locked it into place. She pumped the bellows with her foot, fanning the flames into a steady roar.

As the fire licked at the surface of the meat, searing it to perfection, she slowly turned the handle - and, for the first time in what felt like ages, she softly began to hum the BBQ Song.

Having passed through the sweltering cavern, Zeeg and the party emerged once more beneath the blue sky and into the gray, sun-baked expanse beyond.

They were struck speechless by the sight before them.

Just as they'd suspected, the Basarios was nowhere to be found in Area 3. Instead, a horde of Bullfango greeted them.

These boar-like monsters, each armed with massive tusks, were no threat alone - but en masse, they became dangerous. Dodge one charge, and another would blindside them. Before one could rise or even draw their weapon, they'd be trampled into the dirt.

If a wyvern showed up in the middle of that, it was practically a death sentence. Which was why every seasoned hunter knew to take the boars out first.

Zeeg and his comrades followed that logic.

Even Brass unsheathed his sword this time and managed to take one down. But it was Zeeg and Enta who did the bulk of the work.

Afterward, the party began inspecting each of the jagged rocks jutting from the ground, one by one.

Basarios, the monster they sought, was also known as the Invisible Wyvern. The name came from its habit of hiding beneath the earth, its basalt-like shell mimicking the volcanic stones that littered the area.

Though Basarios was hardly agile, it used this camouflage to ambush prey. When something approached, it would sense the vibrations and erupt from the ground in a sudden, violent assault. To draw one out, all a hunter needed was to toss a rock or sprint nearby - either would suffice to provoke a reaction.

Fortunately, the area was strewn with loose stones, so they could conserve their energy. Unfortunately, every outcropping they examined turned out to be nothing more than ordinary rock.

Reluctantly, they dragged Brass - who was still distracted by his desire to dig for ore - away from the spot and made their way through a lava-flooded cave. If not for that obstructive boulder, they would've reached Area 2 without issue.

What they found there stopped them cold.

"...What the hell is this...?"

It was the first thing Zeeg managed to say after the shock had passed.

There, sprawled across the ashen earth, was the massive corpse of a Basarios. It wasn't asleep. Its tiny eyes were lifeless, and its thick tongue lolled out of its mouth, discolored to a blackened crimson. The ground surrounding its body had been soaked not in the usual dull gray, but in dark red tinged with a venomous purple.

Blood - no doubt. And judging by the smell and the discoloration, fluids from the ruptured poison sacs in its body as well.

"It's dead, that much is clear," Enta said, stating the obvious. Anyone could see that. The real question was - who had killed it?

None of the local monsters - be they Ioprey or the herbivorous, turtle-like Apceros - could've done this. Neither species attacked flying wyverns to begin with. Ioprey venom had no effect on Basarios, and neither their fangs nor claws could pierce its thick shell. Apceros had powerful tails, akin to sledgehammers, but not powerful enough to bring down a beast like this.

Zeeg cautiously approached the corpse, wary of any lingering toxins. When he smelled no more, he circled the body, inspecting it closely - and then noticed something strange.

Part of the shell had been deliberately stripped away. The edges were clean, as though someone had slipped a sharp tool between the plates and peeled them away with precision.

No - he didn't want to believe it, but there was no other explanation.

Someone had carved this monster.

And it wasn't the work of Ioprey or Apceros. No beast could perform such delicate work. Only humans - no, only hunters - could do this. But as far as Zeeg knew, their team was the only one dispatched here from the Hunter's Guild out of Nusti.

("...A drifter?")

Some hunters operated independently of the Guild, taking contracts without oversight. His hometown, Kokoto Village, was like that - though the Guild knew of it, the village itself wasn't under Guild control.

Still, few would risk hunting unsupervised in Guild-sanctioned territories. Doing so could provoke the Guild into sending Guild Knights.

Those private enforcers were surrounded by dark rumors. Hunters were sworn never to raise weapons against humans. But the Guild Knights - they were said to hunt people.

Even if those were just rumors, what hunter would willingly risk becoming their target?

And yet, here the Basarios lay - dead, its body mutilated, its shell harvested.

"These are hammer strikes," Enta muttered, brushing a hand along one of the crushed wing membranes. The film had been thoroughly pulped, torn apart - not with blades like greatswords or sword-and-shield, but with sheer blunt force.

"This wound here was caused by a Crag round," Vivi said from where she crouched near the beast's massive head. She brought her nose close and sniffed with precision. "A direct hit to the eye socket. The shell fractured from the inside out - the explosive must've detonated after penetration. I can smell blood, charred flesh, and gunpowder. No mistake."

There was no longer any doubt. Hunters had done this.

Brass, apparently unaware of the seriousness of the situation, circled the corpse with childlike fascination, gawking at the immense body of the juvenile Gravios.

"Well now - We arrived quite late; the wyvern lies still, cold stone; its breath had long gone, eh?" Enta quipped.

"Now's not the time for jokes," Zeeg snapped.

"What do you mean? The contract is fulfilled. There's no issue."

"Are you serious?" Zeeg turned to him, astonished, but Enta's face betrayed nothing. "We didn't hunt this thing."

"But the client only requested that the Basarios be culled, yes? They didn't specify who had to do the culling." With that, Enta unsheathed his carving knife and slid it smoothly between two of the beast's remaining shells, popping a piece free with ease. "This is proof enough. Sadly, it seems the rare ores were taken already. Such is life."

"Wait - are you really planning to take credit for this!?"

"Wasn't our kill stolen? Whoever they were, this Basarios was our quarry. They stole the carve - and now you would have us give up the reward as well?"

Zeeg had no answer. Enta was right. They had been robbed - of the materials and possibly the payout. If this was deemed a failed hunt, they'd get neither reward nor even their upfront fee. That was hard to swallow.

However-

"I get your point. I really do. But if we report this as our kill, we'd be lying to the Guild. That's dangerous."

No amount of Zenny was worth ending up on the Guild Knights' hit list.

"Then what do you suggest?"

"We report exactly what we found. We take the Basarios shell as evidence, submit our findings, and leave the decision to the Guild. If they refuse to pay, I'll cover the reward myself."

"...You're admirably straightforward," Enta chuckled, handing him the carved shell.

Zeeg accepted it without a word. Though he didn't show it on his face, a deep breath of relief stirred quietly in his chest. A fight breaking out here would've been disastrous - especially with the long trek back to base camp still ahead of them.

Only now, as they turned to leave, did Zeeg recall that moment in the jungle - the bitter words exchanged with Elmeria, and the unease she'd worn so clearly on her face...

("What the hell was I even paying attention to then...?")

With a sigh, Zeeg tucked the shell under his arm and turned back toward the cave entrance, where molten lava cast an ominous glow. His feet felt heavier than they should have.

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