"Why aren't those bastards going in to help?!"
Aboard the low-flying Airship, Francesca shouted in frustration, looking ready to dive the ship straight down and take on the "Demon King" herself.
The on-site survey had confirmed that the oasis and the surrounding rocky Gobi terrain were unsuitable for Sandship travel.
To ensure the reserve team could enter the battlefield and provide immediate support if anything unexpected happened, Francesca piloted the observation Airship with Buck, Brandley, and Alma aboard, keeping watch from a little over a hundred meters above the ground.
Alva had sent Alma up to join them. She had wanted to support the Hunters on the ground as a Handler, just as he did, but Alva did not consider her ready to participate directly in a quest of this level, so he had her remain on the Airship to "observe and learn."
"That's how a fixed battle works," Buck said. Unlike the anxious Francesca, he remained completely relaxed. "Until the heavily armored defender has drawn the target's attention and pinned it down, everyone else holds back.
"The Vanguard Hunting Party may not have a proper tank, but you came through the training camp. You should know this much, right?"
"Of course I know that!" Francesca glared at him.
But as she watched Isis struggle alone against the "Demon King's" fierce assault, she felt as though she might have a heart attack at any moment.
Perhaps others saw Isis as a powerful High Rank Hunter, one of the new generation's Supernovas, and a fearsome warrior capable of grabbing a Diablos by the head and beating it down.
To Francesca, however, Isis would always be the little sister who had trailed after her calling her "big sister."
She had once been so tiny... Well, actually, Isis had been bigger than her for as long as Francesca could remember, but that was not the point!
The point was that Isis was struggling against the "Demon King" all by herself!
Damn it! If I'd known, I would've removed a Machine Cannon and mounted it on this observation Airship!
—--
Although Altaïr could not hear Francesca grumbling to herself, he reached the same conclusion as he circled the edge of the battlefield.
Since issuing her "challenge," Isis had already weathered five or six rounds of attacks from the "Demon King."
She had used nearly every trick at her disposal, including Storm Rush to close the distance, lateral shelling to evade charges, and shelling at the moment of impact so the recoil would carry her backward and soften the collision.
She had even resorted to the grappling hook on her Slinger, which she rarely used. In the earlier exchanges, she had repeatedly used shelling to counter the attacks, but the "Demon King's" assaults came in such rapid succession that she had no time to reload. She could only use the grappling hook to help reposition and evade.
By now, Altaïr was certain that Isis could neither withstand the "Demon King's" violent charges head-on nor pin it down in place.
If she could actually manage either feat, she would have no trouble applying for promotion to 7★ when they returned.
Given the situation, the fixed-battle strategy was clearly not working. Driven by her sense of duty as the defender, Isis had tried to shoulder most of the risk and was pushing herself too far.
As the "Demon King" charged again with its head lowered, Isis found herself out of shells and with no time for another response. Gritting her teeth, she raised her Large Shield and assumed a Defensive Stance.
She was about to meet the charge head-on with Insta-Block, even though she knew that a direct collision could only end with the "Demon King" sending her flying...
Just then, Altaïr burst in from the side, becoming a flash of steel as he darted between the "Demon King's" galloping legs.
Blood sprayed from the "Demon King's" ankle. It stumbled, and its charging stride faltered for a moment.
At the same time, a volley of Bowgun fire streaked in from afar, leaving frost-rimmed bullet holes along the "Demon King's" flank.
Serl came sprinting over and slid beneath the "Demon King's" head. He swung his sword through a Rising Slash that opened two wounds across its throat and neck, then sprang upward and smashed his shield, blazing with fighting spirit, into the "Demon King's" jaw like a Hammer.
The "Demon King's" head snapped back, and its charge finally stopped.
"Isis, fall back and regroup! We're switching to mobile combat!" Altaïr shouted as he swept his Long Sword through a rapid flurry, disrupting the Monster's movements.
Though reluctant, Isis knew she could no longer withstand the "Demon King's" assault head-on. She retreated in silence.
The halted "Demon King" shook its head.
Serl's shield strike might not have looked remarkable, but it was a Hunter Art called "Shoryugeki," with power nearly rivaling a Hammer's Charged Upswing.
That powerful blow had successfully redirected the "Demon King's" attention from Isis to Serl.
Serl showed no sign of tension. He twirled his blade with a flourish, almost eager for the challenge.
Mobile combat was both the Vanguard Hunting Party's specialty and Serl's own forte.
Anyone who truly understood the tactic knew that mobile combat did not mean letting the Monster run wild without order. Someone still had to draw and hold the target's attention, but that role usually did not fall to the heavily armored vanguard.
The Hunter filling that role needed greater agility. Sword and Shield, Dual Blades, and Insect Glaive users were better suited to it; even Gunners using Light Bowguns or Bows could handle the job.
To secure the target's attention, Serl did not simply wait and counter as Isis had. He took the initiative, rapidly slashing twice directly in front of the "Demon King's" snout.
The enraged "Demon King" took the bait. It lowered its head and swung sharply, sweeping its single horn upward to hook him.
If the strike connected, Serl would not only suffer a devastating blow but also be impaled on the horn and hurled into the air. It was an exceedingly dangerous attack.
Yet Serl evaded the threatening horn strike with a simple retreating hop. The horn swept past less than ten centimeters from his chest.
The upward sweep left the "Demon King's" head raised high, giving Serl an opening of two or three seconds.
That was the advantage of light weapons. They could not match heavy weapons in destructive power or defensive strength, but their mobility was unmatched.
With enough experience and skill, their users could run circles around a slower Monster without ever letting it land a hit.
Seizing the brief opening after the Monster missed, Serl did not rush to attack. Instead, he drew a vial of pale green sword oil and coated his blade with it.
He was not about to use one of his few precious vials of Chaos Oil. This was Destroyer Oil.
The toxins in the oil accumulated inside the Monster with every strike, making its muscles more prone to seize up. It was particularly effective against Monsters like Diablos that relied on violent charges.
After its attack missed, the "Demon King" roared and lunged forward in a short pounce.
It could tell that this opponent was more agile than the last and that a full charge was unlikely to hit him. Instead, it switched to shorter, quicker attacks.
Faced with the "Demon King's" lunging bite, Serl advanced instead of retreating. After a few quick steps, he dropped into another slide and slipped beneath the Monster's body. He deftly neutralized the assault, then followed with a Rising Slash that opened two shallow wounds across the "Demon King's" belly.
The wounds were shallow, but that did not matter. For now, his job was simply to divert the "Demon King's" attention and create openings for the attackers.
Whenever the "Demon King's" focus shifted and it turned toward someone else, Serl would intensify his assault and draw its attention back to himself.
Wearing down the Monster's stamina through this constant back-and-forth was the essence of mobile combat!
—--
Back aboard the Airship, Francesca let out a long breath when she saw Isis retreat safely, only to tense up again at once.
Why did that guy keep diving underneath the Monster? Was he not afraid it would trample him to death?
"You... are... worried... about... him... meow..." Pawdrick crawled up beside Francesca's ear and whispered like a demon.
"..." Francesca's face darkened. "We've got someone distracting the pilot. Throw this nuisance off the ship!"