After accepting the quest to Hunt a Tigerstripe Zamtrios, Isis did not rush to set out.
After Altaïr's solo escape... or rather, his unexpected promotion, she had become the lowest-ranked Hunter on the team. That made her more eager than ever to advance, but she had not forgotten a Hunter's most basic caution.
She had never Hunted a Zamtrios before and was quite unfamiliar with this Monster, which inhabited frozen seas.
The Tigerstripe Zamtrios was a rare Subspecies that had somehow settled deep in the desert for reasons that baffled even scholars, and she had never even heard of it before.
Hunting a completely unfamiliar Monster with a Threat Level as high as 5★ while only half-prepared was out of the question. Before setting out, she decided to conduct proper research and make thorough preparations.
Altaïr wanted to tell her that although he had never Hunted a Tigerstripe Zamtrios, he had Hunted the original species, Zamtrios, and had some experience to share.
He had also researched the Tigerstripe Zamtrios extensively in his youth because of its coloration and markings, so he understood its ecology and habits fairly well and could share what he knew with her.
Isis, however, refused his help in a huff, declaring that she would handle every part of her promotion independently, starting with gathering information.
Watching Isis stomp away until she disappeared from sight, Altaïr looked bewildered. "Is all that really necessary?"
Nymera gave Altaïr a gentle, almost maternal look, then led the drowsy Lambert away at an unhurried pace.
Sajji climbed up Altaïr's back and settled on his shoulder. "Nymera made every decision about her promotion on her own, meow.
Your promotion happened so suddenly that you never had a chance to discuss it with everyone, meow.
But when Isis was choosing her exam target, you kept saying one choice wouldn't work and another wasn't suitable, meow..."
Altaïr paused, then muttered defensively, "But the first few targets she chose really were unsuitable, weren't they?"
"That's why she's sulking, meow." Sajji licked his claws and wiped his whiskers several times. "She isn't so much angry with you as she is with herself, meow."
Altaïr had no answer. He could not help thinking back to a few years earlier, when Teacher Karin had forbidden him to drink, come home late, sneak out of the Fortress, and countless other things; whenever his temper flared, he would talk back to her.
Isis was not rebellious by nature; if anything, she was a little too obedient. Over their years together, she had gradually grown accustomed to letting others think for her and simply agreeing with whatever Altaïr said.
But as her companions were promoted one after another, the urgency she felt had jolted her gradually rusting brain back into motion and revived her ability to think for herself... Her first judgments were bound to be flawed, but as long as she kept using her mind, it would only grow sharper and sharper!
The faint unease Altaïr had initially felt over Isis's refusal of his help began to lift, and his eyes lit up.
"This is a good thing! Should I write a letter to Master Amos and share the good news?"
"How the meow do you plan to word it? Congratulations on your granddaughter finally growing a brain, meow?"
Isis was busy preparing for her promotion exam, Nymera had ridden off on Hibiki to parts unknown, and Lambert had disappeared as usual.
After visiting his friends and family, completing his promotion along the way, and accomplishing every goal that had brought him to Loc Lac, Altaïr found himself with nothing but free time. For a moment, he was not quite sure what to do with himself.
He took Sajji to catch up with old friends in the Loc Lac Rangers, only to be kicked out by Nuri and the others.
We're on duty, kid!
—--
With nowhere else to go, Altaïr ended up at Madam Marydan's house. Marydan herself was not home, of course. Nearly seventy and still capable of bending a wrench with her bare hands, she was leading a team tracking a Grimclaw Tigrex. Her husband, Master Lamarck, should be in, though.
Altaïr greatly enjoyed the company of the gentle, refined old scholar. As a member of the Royal Paleontology Scriveners, Lamarck possessed extraordinary ecological knowledge, and his home held a vast collection of books.
The Professor had once described Altaïr as "one of the rare Hunters who's read a few books," and that was due in no small part to Master Lamarck.
He could drink tea and chat idly with the old scholar, then read a couple of good books. Spending a few leisurely days like that sounded rather pleasant.
With those expectations in mind, Altaïr knocked on their door.
"Coming!"
A familiar, energetic female voice rang out from inside. Altaïr was still in a daze when the door swung open.
"What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?"
Isis had rushed to answer the door, and she and Altaïr spoke at exactly the same moment.
"I came to borrow reference materials from Grandpa Lamarck!" Isis declared, arms akimbo. "Ecological data on the Tigerstripe Zamtrios!"
"You... actually thought of visiting a scholar to look up references?"
"What's that supposed to mean? Am I not allowed?" Isis glared at him.
"No, no, no." Altaïr waved his hands hastily, nudging Isis inside and pulling the door shut with his foot. Casually, he added, "By the way, why not go to the library? The Loc Lac Great Library has quite a collection too, you know."
Isis's expression stiffened for a moment. Then she adopted a stern expression and stubbornly insisted, "Consulting him directly is more efficient!"
Noticing the shift in her expression, Altaïr realized what had happened and found it rather amusing. It seemed she had gone to the library before coming here.
The library's collection was far too broad and its catalog too disorganized; an inexperienced visitor would struggle to find the materials they needed.
That was why Hunters were almost never seen browsing or borrowing books there, despite the library's extensive collection on ecology and Monsters.
For Hunters, whose formal education tended to be limited, finding the one book they needed among a sea of texts and then mustering the patience to read it was far more difficult than tearing the book apart and eating it page by page.
The fact that Isis had thought to seek guidance from a scholar she knew was already a strong sign that her brain was starting to work again.
That deserved encouragement.
Altaïr followed Isis into the study and saw the old scholar seated behind a broad desk.
Seeing Altaïr, Lamarck looked up, smiled amiably, and gestured toward the teapot and teacup on the low side table, inviting him to help himself to some tea.
Isis, meanwhile, sat down on an especially large stool that was probably Marydan's personal seat and returned to the book Lamarck had found for her.
Altaïr leaned closer for a look. It was a study of primarily terrestrial Amphibians. He had read it before; at least sixty percent of its content focused on Tetsucabra, while the section on the Tigerstripe Zamtrios did not even make up a tenth.
Taking the time to read the entire study, however, offered far greater insight into the movement patterns and behavior of terrestrial Amphibians than simply skipping to the passages on the Tigerstripe Zamtrios did.
Following Lamarck's guidance, Isis had buried her head in the text and was painstakingly working her way through every page.
She had never been one to cut corners. Finishing it all would take a fair amount of time, but spending a little extra now was entirely worthwhile if it helped the upcoming Hunt go smoothly or prepared her for encounters with other Amphibians in the future.
"She's here for the Tigerstripe Zamtrios. What are you here for?" Lamarck glanced at Altaïr over the rims of his spectacles.
"I didn't come with any particular goal. I'm here purely for the joy of learning," Altaïr declared with great conviction.
Isis silently ground her teeth without looking up from her book.
That answer clearly pleased the old scholar. Amusement flickered in Lamarck's eyes. "In that case, take a look at these.
These are the Royal Paleontology Scriveners' latest findings from the past two months. Quite a few are rather interesting."
"Sure thing!"
Altaïr picked up a scroll from the side of the desk, found a place to sit, and buried his head in the text.
Time passed unnoticed. Suddenly, another knock sounded at the door, and someone could be heard faintly shouting, "Professor Lamarck! Are you home?!"
Jolted from his reading, Altaïr looked up in a daze. Isis reacted even faster, calling, "I'll get it!" before jogging toward the entrance.
Before long, she returned to the study with a young Scrivener who looked to be in his thirties.
"Professor Lamarck! Look at this!" Holding something aloft, the Scrivener rushed to Lamarck's desk in a few strides.
"Don't shout, Luga. You're not a child anymore." Lamarck frowned, irritated by the visitor's boisterous manner.
"Ah, sorry!" The young Scrivener, Luga, ducked his head, opened the cloth bundle in his arms, and laid its contents on the desk.
The bundle contained a severed head streaked with dried blood. It was not especially large and clearly came from some kind of Small Monster.
The flesh and blood around the head had begun to decay, giving off a pungent, acrid odor.
"A Hunter just brought it back. No one in the Royal Paleontology Scriveners has ever seen it before. Do you recognize it?"
(Translated by yourtl.app)