Altaïr hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth and nose, using the motion to hide his panic at the sudden bad news.
After quickly composing himself, Altaïr turned to Morgan. "The straight-line distance from here to your hometown is short. Only the Wardre Strait lies between them, and a short Airship flight would get you there in a little over half a day. Why not take the opportunity to visit your family?"
Morgan was taken aback. He looked at Altaïr, then at Isis, and remembered what the Master Craftsman had just said about Isis's parents coming to Val Habar. Did that make his presence here a little unnecessary?
Believing he understood Altaïr's hint, Morgan nodded. "I could make a trip home. I'll look for a suitable Airship ticket later."
"Buy one for me too. Manti Town's food is rather tempting, and I can visit the old mayor while I'm there," Altaïr hurriedly added.
Morgan stared at him as though he had seen a ghost. Would you listen to yourself? Manti Town's food? How could a place with no river, no sea, and nothing but rocks possibly have good food? We only ate so well last time because the mayor spent a fortune entertaining us!
Even setting all that aside, shouldn't Isis be the one tempted by the food? Since when was it you?
And as for visiting the mayor while you're there, the two places might not be considered far apart, but they're still several hundred kilometers from each other in a straight line. How is that "while you're there"?
Isis had been delighted by the unexpected news, but now she puffed out her cheeks. She was no fool. The food in Manti Town and the visit to the mayor were obviously excuses. Altaïr just wanted to hide from her parents!
"Do you really need to avoid them like this? You got along quite well last time, didn't you...?" Even Isis found herself trailing off as she spoke.
During the two days Altaïr had spent with her parents, Isis's father had threatened him under one pretext after another, her mother had beaten him half to death with a wooden sword, and her father had dragged him through extreme strength training until he could no longer move, among other things. Wanting to avoid them seemed entirely reasonable...
Isis's expression had shifted from delighted surprise to displeasure, then anger, and finally conflicted hurt. Seeing this, Altaïr rubbed his face hard. "All right, it isn't that I want to avoid your parents. Honestly, Mr. Gordon and Ms. Hayata have treated me very well. It's just... how should I put it? I wasn't mentally prepared."
"What are you trying to prepare for, Boss, meow?" Sajji asked, puzzled, as he lapped warm Popo Milk beside him.
"...I don't know either." Sajji's question made Altaïr realize that his own reaction was rather inexplicable. He waved a hand at Morgan. "Forget what I said earlier. I was joking, so don't take it seriously."
Then he turned to Isis. "I'm very much looking forward to seeing Mr. Gordon and Ms. Hayata. I've had a few questions about my training lately, so this will be a perfect chance to ask their advice."
"...On second thought, maybe you should go to Manti Town with Morgan after all."
—--
Meanwhile, at the Felyne Chef's food stall.
Serl had come alone to save seats, but his attention was soon drawn to two conspicuous diners.
They wore simple, loose-fitting clothes, yet even a half-blind man could tell they were anything but ordinary.
The man stood out in particular. No ordinary person could possess such a physique or those muscles. Serl could not help remembering the comparison Mr. Alva had once made.
If Serl himself was an "ordinary Diablos," then this man was the "Demon King."
Even the Felyne beside him was so powerfully built that he hardly looked like a cat.
Serl caught faint snippets of how they addressed one another, and the woman's features bore an unmistakable resemblance to Isis's. After a moment's hesitation, he approached to greet them.
"My sincerest apologies for interrupting, but... may I ask if you are Mr. Gordon, Ms. Hayata, and Mr. Purrcival?"
The two humans and one Felyne turned toward him in surprise.
Still stuffing food into their mouths, Gordon and Purrcival studied the unfamiliar yet oddly familiar young man, silently assessing him.
A Zinogre? What an impressive young man.
Hayata gave him a friendly smile. "Hello. And you are?"
Now certain that his guess was correct, Serl hastily straightened and bowed slightly. "My name is Serl. My father, Kio, has told me many stories about all of you."
Recognition dawned on Gordon's face. "Kio! So you're that fellow's son. No wonder you look familiar.
"Come, sit down. How are your parents?"
Gordon pulled out a chair beside the table and invited Serl to join them.
Deeply flattered, Serl dipped his head and sat down. "They're both doing well."
After they exchanged a few polite pleasantries, Serl asked somewhat uncertainly, "Did the two of you come looking for Isis and Altaïr?
"They stopped by the workshop first and will be here shortly."
"Isis and Altaïr? They're in Val Habar too?" Hayata could scarcely contain her delight. Raising her voice, she called, "Shalan! Tell the Felyne Chef to make more food. Isis and Altaïr are coming too!"
"Meow?" Shalan poked her head out from behind the steamer where she was helping in the kitchen. "What a coincidence, meow!"
"Full power, meow!" The Felyne Chef worked a large iron wok over the stove and stomped on the bellows, making the flames roar higher.
So it really was a coincidence?
Serl's expression stiffened for an instant. He suddenly regretted saying anything. Perhaps he should not have brought it up. What if Isis and the others were not eager to run into their parents?
Surely that was not the case...
While Serl wrestled with his thoughts, Francesca arrived at the stall. When she saw the two people seated at his table, the same astonishment crossed her face.
"Uncle Gordon, Aunt Hayata, Uncle Purrcival, what are you all doing here?"
"Francesca?!"
For a moment, Hayata wondered whether someone had deliberately arranged all of this.
They had only come to ask an acquaintance to repair and maintain their equipment, while visiting a few old friends along the way. Why did they keep running into the youngsters one after another?
Despite her surprise, Hayata waved Francesca over. "Come here. I heard Isis and Altaïr are here too. Did you all come together?"
"That's right." Francesca ran over, beaming.
Hayata was about to make room for her, only to see Francesca sit quite naturally beside Serl.
"Have you ordered yet?" Francesca asked him.
Serl shook his head. "No. Ms. Hayata and the others asked the Felyne Chef to arrange everything."
"So we're getting a free meal!"
Gordon and Hayata exchanged a glance, each seeing the same hint of curiosity in the other's eyes.
The square table had one long bench on each of its four sides.
Gordon, Hayata, and Purrcival had each occupied one side, while Serl sat on the last. The benches were wide, however, so two or even three people could sit together without difficulty.
Under the circumstances, the most natural choice would have been for Francesca to sit beside Hayata. Why had she squeezed in beside Serl instead?
Could it be...?
Francesca had not given the matter nearly that much thought. Elders occupied three sides of the table, while the remaining side held Serl, a good friend her own age. What was wrong with sitting beside him?
"Little Francesca has finally grown up," Gordon remarked meaningfully.
Faced with two elders who had watched her grow up, Francesca did not even consider what he might be implying. She simply assumed Gordon was teasing her about her height again.
He had been making fun of her for that for almost twenty years!
"Hmph." She gave him a sidelong glance. "Well, I certainly can't compare to Isis and that kid Altaïr. Those two shot up in no time!"
Gordon was speechless.
What was that supposed to mean?