Altaïr wasn't the only one to gain clues through the Gajalaka; the Royal Paleontology Scriveners investigation team, tasked with surveying the central area of the Jungle and the southern area, had made discoveries of their own.
At a meeting organized by the Professor, a spirited and efficient-looking woman in her fifties spoke up first. "Let's skip the introductions; I am one of the investigation team leaders for the Scriveners.
Our team discovered a Hyper Hypnocatrice. It was exceptionally aggressive, and we have reason to suspect that its mutation was not self-generated, but rather influenced by external factors.
We found it in the southwestern area of the Jungle. These are the specific coordinates."
Another man, slightly younger but still in his forties and with dark skin, raised his hand. "Our team was responsible for the southernmost part of the Jungle, and we found no new Hyper Monsters.
However, we visited the village that had contact with that previous Hyper Duramboros. According to the villagers, that Duramboros was originally very docile.
The sudden attack that destroyed their outpost may have been a simple search for food, or it could have been triggered by some form of irritation.
Furthermore, a youth gathering mountain produce mentioned seeing a 'glowing giant butterfly' at night.
We originally had many theories regarding this so-called 'butterfly,' but after seeing the samples brought back by the Professor, the creature's identity seems roughly confirmed."
"Wait a moment."
A diminutive Wyverian scholar spoke up. Judging by the style of his robes, he was a member of the Elder Dragon Observation Team. "The samples the Professor brought back were found in the northwestern part of the Jungle, yet there were sightings in the southern area as well.
Given that Monsters of that species are notoriously indolent, their range shouldn't be that large. Could there be more than one?
If it were just a single individual leaving its natural habitat, it might be an isolated incident, but two..."
"The worst-case scenario is a larger-scale collective migration," the Professor interjected. "In addition to continuing our investigation of the Jungle, I believe it is vital that we dispatch a team deep into the Esther Lake region to confirm this.
We still know far too little about this Monster."
Whatever was happening in the Jungle, or even further away in the Schrade western region, was a matter for the Guild's high-ranking officials and scholars to worry about.
For Altaïr and his companions, young Hunters who could be called "mainstays" or "elites" but were still quite a distance from being true powerhouses, it was enough to focus on the matters right in front of them.
In the medical clinic, the old doctor took off his glasses and signaled for Altaïr to put his trousers back on.
"Incredible skill in wound treatment," the old doctor remarked with a click of his tongue. "Lacerations like these are the most difficult to manage. Not only is the bleeding dangerous and difficult to stop at the time of injury, but the wound tends to split repeatedly during recovery, significantly extending healing time and even leaving severe lasting effects.
But your wound was handled perfectly from the very start, and adjustments were made multiple times during the healing process. This ensured rapid recovery while preventing infection, muscle adhesion, and other complications." "It is fair to say that even in a fully equipped medical clinic, I could not have done any better, let alone considering you traveled all the way from the depths of the Jungle."
Beside him, Shalan lifted her chin with a smug expression.
In truth, by the time they had returned to the city, Altaïr felt that the wound on his leg was already fine and completely healed.
It was Shalan who had pestered him to come to the medical clinic for a final check-up, and she had insisted on coming along.
Initially, Altaïr had been moved by Lady Shalan's sense of responsibility and care, but now he realized she seemingly just wanted to hear more words of praise from the physician's mouth.
"The only pity is that the scarring is a bit too large; the highest point of the raised scar is nearly half a centimeter. I suggest cutting away the scar tissue and re-suturing the epidermis," the old physician said, shaking his head.
Shalan, who had been gloating just a second ago, jumped up in dissatisfaction. "What do you mean large, meow?! That spot was for the drainage tube for the pus and blood, meow!
Besides, the scar isn't on his face, meow! Healing takes priority; who has time to worry about aesthetics, meow?!"
The old physician looked at the blue-furred Felyne in surprise. From her indignant tone, he could guess that this Felyne was the one who had treated the young Hunter's wound.
He chuckled and tried to soothe her, saying, "I'm not saying there was anything wrong with the treatment itself; after all, you were in the wild. Conditions were limited, rest was impossible, and the patient had to trek across mountains and rivers. No one could have handled it better than you did.
However, scars aren't just about aesthetics. Severe scarring can cause the skin to split easily, increasing future risks.
It's impossible to completely remove a scar this size. Re-suturing the epidermis is simply to make the skin grow back stronger, not for the sake of beauty."
Shalan stifled her protest, muttering under her breath, "Well, that does make sense, meow. I can't be bothered to do that kind of work myself, meow. Little Altaïr, you just let him handle it for you, meow."
With that, she slipped behind the privacy screen and ran out.
Altaïr stood up and gave the old physician an apologetic nod. "My companions are waiting outside, and I have some matters to attend to shortly. May I return later to have you deal with the scar?"
"Of course."
The old physician remained genial. "Is that Felyne your hunting partner? Her medical skills really are quite remarkable."
"No, no... you could say she's more of an elder to me." After a brief explanation, Altaïr bid the physician farewell and walked out of the clinic.
Isis, along with Nymera who was leading Hibiki, were waiting outside.
Sajji and Clawdia were nowhere to be seen. One had locked himself in his room, busy building the "Rathalos Model-09" from scratch.
The other simply avoided Shalan whenever possible, fearful of being caught by her and forced to endure lectures on "Essential Fur Maintenance for Girls."
Having just lost a bit of face and scurried out, Shalan had fallen straight into Isis's hands.
Isis held her by the armpits, lifting her high over her head and gently swaying her from side to side. As she moved, Shalan's body, stretched exceptionally long by gravity, swayed like a wave.
"Altaïr, look! Auntie Shalan's body is so incredibly soft!" Isis chirped, swinging her back and forth.
Altaïr: "..." That was a difficult comment for him to address.
When facing Isis, Shalan was clearly more patient than she was with others, acting very much the part of an elder.
She extended a paw pad and tapped Isis twice on the forehead with just the right amount of force. "That's enough, meow. Put me down, meow. I have something to say, meow."
Seeing Shalan's tone turn serious, Isis stopped playing around and gently placed Shalan back on the ground.
Shalan took a few steps back, looked Isis up and down several times, and nodded with satisfaction. "Full of spirit, meow. Your parents will be happy when they see you, meow."
As she spoke, she took out the portable camera she never left home without. Click! She snapped a full-body photo of Isis.
Unaccustomed to the lens, Isis instinctively leaned back, resulting in a very strange-looking shot.
Shalan: "...Stand up straight! Retake, meow!"
Faced with a suddenly strict Auntie Shalan, Isis could only obediently comply.
After finishing the photo of Isis, Shalan looked at Altaïr. "You get one too, meow."
"Me?"
Altaïr pointed to himself and, without thinking much of it, walked over to stand next to Isis.
Shalan raised the camera, but just as she was about to press the shutter, she thought better of it and lowered it. "Stand further away, meow. Don't be in the same frame as Isis. This is for your own good, meow."
Altaïr's lip twitched, but he did as he was told.
"And you, meow." After taking Altaïr's photo, Shalan looked toward Nymera.
"There is a part for me as well?"
"You are companions in a squad; I'm taking photos of everyone, meow."
Showing three photos to Isis's parents would signify that these were all the members of Isis's squad.
However, if she only showed them two photos... that might imply something else entirely. One had to remember that Isis's parents usually operated as a duo themselves...
Having spent some time with him, her impression of Altaïr was decent enough that she didn't want to set him up for disaster, meow.
Having finished the photos, Shalan put away the portable camera and looked at Isis. "Seeing that you are doing well, I can put my mind at ease, meow.
It's about time I headed back, meow. Remember to write letters to your parents when you have time, meow. Even if it takes six months or a year for the letters to reach their hands, it's better than no news at all, meow."
With that, she turned to Nymera. "For that Palamute of yours to grow so large, its physical talent is extraordinary, meow. There should still be a lot of potential to tap into. Remember to give it more of a burden, meow.
If you don't know how to add weight, then add Ammo boxes, meow."
"Bow-wow?!"
"I understand. Thank you for the guidance, senior."
"As for you, meow." Shalan finally turned to Altaïr. "The Seregios materials should be enough for you to forge a set of Armor plus a weapon, meow.
I know you are skilled with many types of weapons, but I suggest you forge a Long Sword, meow. As far as raw damage Long Swords go, the Seregios Long Sword is on par with the Nargacuga Long Sword, meow."
"Thank you, Lady Shalan."
Altaïr bowed his head in thanks. Although he had planned to do exactly that, he owed her his gratitude for her willingness to advise him.
"That's all, then. I'm off, meow!"
Having said her piece, Shalan deployed her kite and took off gallantly, riding the wind.
"Does Auntie Shalan intend to fly all the way back to Mom's place?" Isis blinked in confusion as she watched Shalan's figure recede into the sky. "It's thousands of kilometers..."
"Unlikely." Altaïr shook his head decisively. "That's the direction of the docks. Lady Shalan is likely going to board an Airship."
"But the distance from here to the docks is less than a kilometer, right? Wouldn't it be more convenient to just walk?"
"But this way is cooler."
(Translated by yourtl.app)