A man and a cat walked down the deserted village road.
"Boss, do you think that Archi kid is still alive, meow?" Sajji asked as they walked.
"I'm not optimistic." There was no need for pretense in front of Sajji, so Altaïr flipped up his visor to catch a breath of air. "If he actually dared to walk right up to a Nerscylla, he's basically as good as dead."
"Meow..."
"Don't dwell on it. We'll follow the scent first. Whether we find him alive or just find some lingering traces of blood, we need to provide some closure."
"Understood, meow."
Within a few exchanges, they reached the edge of the village.
The wooden stakes of the perimeter fence and the main gate were naturally closed, but that was no obstacle for them. The Hunter and the Felyne scaled the fence in a few quick movements and flipped over to the other side.
After landing on the ground, Altaïr scanned left and right, and sure enough, he discovered a continuation of the tracks.
That boy had also climbed over the wall to get out.
Sajji leaned in and took a few sniffs, then nodded to Altaïr. "It's that guy's scent, meow. It's not very clear, but I can barely make it out, meow."
Altaïr looked up at the gloomy sky. "It'll likely rain later. We need to hurry. If the rain comes down and washes away the scent and tracks, he'll be hard to find."
The man and cat quickened their pace.
The ground was blanketed in a thick layer of fallen leaves and withered branches, sitting atop fertile, soft humus. Combined with the abundant rainfall, the vegetation in this Jungle was incredibly lush.
An ordinary person from the outside would have found it difficult even to walk normally through this dense forest. Had it been a year ago, back when Altaïr had just left the Great Desert, he likely would have been stumbling as well.
Over the past year, he had encountered such wretched conditions countless times. Since Isis wasn't particularly good at teaching, he'd had no choice but to grit his teeth and learn by imitation, watching her movements closely.
Fortunately, he had slowly managed to compensate for his shortcomings. While he still couldn't be called a "jungle expert," at the very least, he was no longer the clumsy amateur who couldn't even walk quickly.
"Wait." Noticing something, Altaïr slowed his pace and called out to Sajji, who was running ahead.
He approached a large tree where there were some man-made marks on the trunk.
Altaïr stepped closer to examine them and found they were markers left by a Hunter, indicating the direction of a Monster Den and including words warning of danger.
They had likely been left by Archi's father, the only village Hunter in that mountain settlement.
The purpose of leaving these was clearly to provide information for any Hunters who might follow, but looking at the lingering footprints at the base of the tree, Altaïr knew that the boy named Archi had seen them too.
That Hunter likely never imagined that the information he left for his peers would be seen by his own son, who would then follow them all the way to the Monster Den.
Putting himself in that father's shoes, Altaïr felt his blood pressure spike instantly.
Altaïr and Sajji continued forward. They slowed their pace, no longer running as they had before, but instead moving with caution while keeping a close eye on their surroundings.
The sky had turned completely dark. Deep within the forest, where the light was already dim due to the thick foliage, it grew even gloomier. The low pressure preceding the rain had caused even the common fireflies of the forest to vanish without a trace.
Altaïr lit the portable oil lamp hanging from his waist.
The lamp's glow illuminated a few meters of space around them. Beyond that, the flickering shadows of the trees, where the firelight could not reach, gave off a chilling sense of danger, as if a bloody maw could lunge out at any moment.
The critical role of a Palico became evident at a time like this.
In such an environment, a Felyne's night vision and keen hearing could provide a warning to a Hunter. Even if a Monster were to stage a surprise attack from the shadows, it would buy the Hunter a second or two to react.
Following the scent, tracks, and occasional markings, they moved forward one step at a time with caution.
—--
Deep in the forest, staring at the pitch-black cave before him, the boy swallowed hard.
The dim moonlight could not penetrate the darkness. The lightless entrance looked like a tunnel leading straight to hell; considering it was a Monster Den, it wasn't much different from the real thing.
Running away from the village this morning hadn't been a heat-of-the-moment decision, nor did he ever intend to actually fight a Monster like the Nerscylla.
But he had to rescue his father.
Since he was a child, Archi's father would often use stories of the Nerscylla to frighten him and his younger sister.
He told them there was a Monster in the jungle called the Nerscylla that moved without a sound. They didn't bite their prey to death immediately; instead, they injected a sleep venom into the body. Once the prey fell into a deep coma, the Nerscylla would drag them back to the den and hang them up with spider silk.
Then, they would lay eggs inside the prey. When the young spiders hatched, they would feed on the prey's flesh, growing slowly until they burst out of the body.
Throughout this process, the prey remained alive, and their consciousness might even wake up, but they would be unable to move.
These terrifying "bedtime stories" became a childhood shadow for him and his sister. For a long time, he didn't dare run into the woods, and his sister would hide at home before dawn, not daring to step outside.
It wasn't until he grew older that he realized this was likely his father's intention.
After he resolved to become a Hunter and began receiving training from his father, his father would tell him stories about actual hunts.
At the time, his father told him that the missing livestock and the body of that poor shepherd hadn't been found in the forest. It was very likely that a Nerscylla, in order to nurse its offspring, had tranquilized them and dragged them back to its den.
In other words, that shepherd might still be alive.
That was also why his father hadn't chosen to stay in the relatively safe village but instead risked leaving to search for the Nerscylla Den.
But his father hadn't come back...
Even if it was just for his sister, who wouldn't stop crying, he had to bring his father back.
Of course, he was well aware that if his father, a 3★ Hunter, couldn't handle the Monster, he would be no match for it.
So, he had come up with a plan.
He had spent the entire day preparing.
He had caught a Mosswine, tied its mouth shut, and hung it from a large tree about one or two kilometers away from the den.
Remembering his father's words that the Nerscylla was a light-hating Monster, he set the start of his operation for dusk.
As night was about to fall, he cut a bleeding wound into the poor Mosswine, loosened the binding on its snout to let it howl and struggle, and then scattered some beast blood along the path back to this spot.
The spreading scent of blood and the dripping trail should lure the Nerscylla out of its den. While the Monster was distracted by the bait, he would take the opportunity to slip into the den and rescue the captive.
If everything went smoothly, no, it would definitely go smoothly!
The Dual Blades in his hands, the "Kut-Ku Pair" forged from Yian Kut-Ku materials, gave him a bit of confidence.
With mud smeared on his body to mask his scent, the boy hid in the bushes, his eyes fixed on the cave entrance, waiting for the critical moment.
Clatter, clatter...
From deep within the cave came the strange sound of hard, sharp objects scraping against rock. The boy held his breath and tightened his Ghillie Mantle made of moss and bark.
Like a terrifying creature straight out of a nightmare, the Monster stepped out from the depths of the cave on its spindly limbs. Under the boy's delighted gaze, it crawled away at high speed, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.
—--
At the same time, Altaïr and Sajji looked at the poor Mosswine hanging from the tree, bleeding everywhere, on the verge of death, yet still crying out in miserable wails, and both fell into silence.
In an instant, Altaïr understood who had prepared all this and exactly what his goal was.
The good news was that the boy was likely still alive; the bad news was that their current situation seemed rather dire.
Altaïr, who had intended to avoid combat as much as possible, couldn't help but curse.
"Son of a..."
(Translated by yourtl.app)