Isis shut herself in her room, sullen and dejected.
The revelation that "Francesca can't beat a Bulldrome" had shaken her badly. She was not angry, but she needed some time alone to calm down, sort through her thoughts, and settle her emotions.
Morgan took it somewhat better.
Unlike Isis, whose childhood admiration had built Francesca up into an idol and role model, Morgan's early impression of Francesca had never included the label "powerful Hunter."
That impression had arisen from a misunderstanding on Tidal Island, and Altaïr had already explained the reason behind it. Besides, Francesca had never boasted about her strength in front of Morgan. That part of his impression was entirely of his own making, so he had no reason to feel angry or disappointed.
Still, he could not adjust his outlook overnight, and the way he looked at Francesca remained a little awkward.
Isis's withdrawal and Morgan's strange looks rekindled Francesca's shame and sent it blazing. Clutching her head, she screamed "Aaaah!" several times and bolted away.
Serl hesitated between "following her to offer comfort" and "letting her calm down." Then Balina and the others kicked and shoved him into action, and he hurried after her.
Altaïr was about to go talk to Isis, but Pawdrick held him back.
"Don't go, meow. Isis isn't so much angry at Francesca as she is angry at herself, meow. She's angry that you understand her sister better than she does, angry at how insensitive she was, angry that she couldn't immediately recognize how hard things were for her sister and instead embarrassed her, things like that, meow.
She might not have untangled it all herself yet, but that's basically what she's thinking, meow. If you try to comfort her now, you'll only make her feel worse, meow."
Altaïr stopped in his tracks.
As Senior Francesca's partner, Pawdrick could not have been especially formidable either. Judging by Francesca's own situation, his Palico rank was probably heavily inflated.
When it came to emotional intelligence, however, Pawdrick might well rank above everyone Altaïr knew, human or otherwise.
His insights into other people's emotions and states of mind had never once been wrong.
After considering Isis's personality and way of thinking from her perspective, Altaïr found himself agreeing with Pawdrick.
Isis did not need him to counsel her. Once she had sorted through her feelings, she would probably go apologize to Senior Francesca herself, and then the sisters would hug and cry together.
There was even less reason to worry about Morgan. He just needed a chance to clear the air.
Compared with their turmoil, the three remaining members of the Vanguard Hunting Party, who had long known Francesca's true strength, were in a completely different mood. They made faces at one another and jostled each other until Serl had followed Francesca away, then tiptoed after him.
After a moment's hesitation, Altaïr followed as well.
He wanted to keep an eye on those three so they did not bother Senior Francesca and Serl.
The group crept out of the cabin and onto the deck. There, they saw Francesca walking unsteadily toward the bow before lifting one leg over the railing, looking alarmingly as though she meant to end all her troubles in a single leap.
Serl rushed forward at once and helped her back down.
"Aaaah...
..."
Francesca let out a long sigh. "I only wanted to sit on the railing and enjoy the breeze."
"I know, but it's too dangerous. The bow is high above the water. If you fell, I doubt even your agility could save you. Enjoy the breeze from inside the railing," Serl said earnestly.
"..." After a few seconds of silence, Francesca found she did not even have the energy to argue.
She raised her voice and shouted, "You lot hiding back there! Go get me a few bottles of wine. There's some in the dining hall. If anyone stops you, tell them I asked for it."
"I'll get it!" Brandley, who had once worked under Francesca, jogged away and soon returned carrying a large bottle.
As he passed, Altaïr glanced at the bottle.
You really know how to pick them. It doesn't even list the alcohol content. This is what people call a wine-flavored fruit drink, isn't it?
Francesca took the bottle from Brandley, waved him and the others away, then sat cross-legged on the deck without a care for appearances and began biting at the cork. Unfortunately, she could not pull it out.
Her composure fraying, Francesca refused to give up and kept gnawing at it.
Worried that she might break a tooth, Serl helplessly took the bottle and pried out the cork for her.
Francesca snatched the bottle back, tipped her head up, and took several enormous gulps with a "glug, glug, glug" before burping. "Is it because of my mood? This is the first time I've thought wine actually tasted good."
Serl glanced at the bottle as well. After hesitating for two seconds, he decided to tell her the truth. "I think it's because of the alcohol content. This is fruit wine for children."
Could you not?!
Francesca glared at him, but at the sight of Serl's sheepish grin, she ultimately sighed. "Forget it. You've been this way since we were children.
...Fine. To be honest, I'm the same: carefree, lazy, aimless, and even worse at sticking with anything. It's as though I can do a little of everything but never excel at any of it."
"Indeed."
Francesca glared at him again.
Serl hastily raised both hands. "I meant that you haven't changed much since childhood. Back in the Jungle, you said much the same thing."
"Then I really haven't grown at all."
"I think 'staying true to yourself' would be a better way to put it." Serl tilted his head. "Back then, you said you didn't care much what anyone thought, with one exception: your younger sister, Isis.
You wanted to remain the perfect older sister, at least in her eyes."
"Why do you have to remember things like that?" Francesca hugged her knees and muttered.
A moment later, she sighed again. "But I'm afraid I can't even do that anymore. She isn't the little girl who always followed behind me and, no matter how wildly I bragged, would stare at me with sparkling eyes and cry, 'Francesca is amazing!'
She's a supernova who reached High Rank at twenty. People may not say it in front of Isis and Altaïr, but many senior Hunters and elders believe the two of them have a chance to reach the very pinnacle.
And me? I'm just a weakling who was chased all over by a Bulldrome, burned through piles of traps, Barrel Bombs, and other items, barely made it to 2★, and doesn't even dare aim any higher."
"Need I remind you of something?" Serl glanced at her. "You're a Bow user. Fighting with items has always been your style."
"And that happened when you were eighteen or nineteen. Do you really think many Hunters reach 2★ by eighteen?"
"But that year, Isis was only fifteen and had barely entered the training camp when she outperformed every student there, including apprentice Hunters on the verge of graduating, and became Chief Student in her first year!"
"Weren't you also the training camp's Chief Student when you were fourteen or fifteen? Brandley still calls you Boss Francesca, doesn't he?"
"How is that the same?!"
Francesca was furious. "I just won the birth lottery! My father is widely acknowledged as the strongest Gunner, my mother is the training camp's Head Instructor, my teacher is one of only two active 9★ Hunters, and I have the colossal Sterling Merchant Guild behind me.
Every resource I had was the best of the best. Morgan hates being mistaken for a girl, yet he gritted his teeth and dressed as a woman just to glimpse those notes. They were sitting in my bedside drawer.
And with all that, I still ended up this painfully mediocre. If that doesn't make me useless, what does?!"
The deck fell silent for a long while before Serl finally said quietly, "I just realized that, in this respect, you and Isis really are exactly alike."
Francesca opened her mouth, but Serl gave her no chance to speak and continued, "You've been quick-witted since childhood, always full of clever schemes. Your bizarre ideas have saved my life more than once.
Incidentally, I still have that Gargwa disguise headpiece.
You're good with people and can befriend anyone. Even the irascible Gajalaka in the Jungle treated you as one of their own.
You're excellent at bringing people together and putting resources where they're needed. Do you really think the Royal Academy invited you to join the Knowledge Seeker project because of your connections and family background?
The Knowledge Seeker is one of the Royal Academy's flagship projects. It lacks neither funds nor resources. To safeguard its research independence, the Academy even deliberately avoids accepting investment from merchant guilds.
Mr. Alva chose you for your own abilities.
Even setting all that aside, you keep everyone laughing when you're dashing around the tavern as a guild receptionist. How could anyone call that 'useless'?"
Another silence followed.
Francesca turned her head aside with a "Hmph" and muttered, "At least you know how to say something nice."
* * *
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