Meeting Altaïr's expectant gaze, Hayata frowned.
"I know plenty of Long Sword techniques powerful enough to qualify as Hunter Arts. I could even guide you through Critical Juncture, which is notorious for how difficult it is to master. But the technique Gordon mentioned? I don't know it. It was never meant for Hunters and has nothing to do with swordsmanship. It's a savage method used on the battlefield by a tiny minority of Shiki's most extreme samurai. If powerful techniques like Sakura Slash and Sacred Sheathe Combo are 'secret arts,' then this one falls squarely into the category of 'forbidden techniques.'"
Hayata was clearly reluctant to reveal the name of the Hunter Art, because doing so would make it much easier for Altaïr to track down a way to learn it.
Gordon spoke up. "Tell him. Like I said, having a few more trump cards is a good thing. Whether they use them is one matter; whether they possess them is another. The Monsters they'll face will only grow stronger. Sooner or later, they will find themselves in a situation where they have to risk everything for the slightest chance of survival."
After several more seconds of silence, Hayata let out a heavy sigh. "That technique is called Devouring Demon. I once met a Long Sword user who had mastered it. This was how he described it. 'Offer your life in sacrifice, and the demon blade will manifest. Wielder and blade become one, assuming the form of Devouring Demon. Without an offering to sate it, it will ultimately destroy its wielder.'"
"What's that supposed to mean?" The passage was clearly not in the standard common language. Isis could tell it sounded ominous, but not exactly how ominous.
"Doesn't that sound a lot like my master's Dragonvein style?" Francesca frowned as well. "To put it simply, it constantly damages the user's body, then lets them draw vitality from a Monster's flesh and blood through combat to heal those injuries. As for which side dies first... that comes down to skill."
"A technique that reckless?! You're not learning it!" Isis rarely used such a commanding tone with Altaïr.
"Mm..." Altaïr did not answer. He merely exchanged a glance with Gordon, who shrugged and said nothing.
Altaïr sank into thought. The technique certainly sounded dangerous, but it might be unexpectedly compatible with him. Another possibility even surfaced in his mind. Perhaps its creator had faced the same problem he did, with bursts of power so overwhelming that the backlash damaged the user's own body, and had found a way around it by using the enemy's vitality and blood to heal those injuries.
Gordon had said that only a handful of people in the world had mastered the technique. Even a top-tier Long Sword user like Ms. Hayata did not know it. Seeking out the steady, conservative Master Amos would surely be pointless, and would most likely earn Altaïr a severe scolding. Among the senior Hunters he knew, the person most likely to have mastered it was...
Senior Maki? The technique suited her style almost too well. Her main weapons were Dual Blades rather than the Long Sword, however. She might know it, but she could also have other methods at her disposal and simply never have bothered to learn it.
Come to think of it, Senior Maki was well suited to help him solve his current problem. Even if she did not know Devouring Demon, she likely knew plenty of similar techniques.
...Wait. Before seeking out Senior Maki, he could try asking someone closer at hand.
Sid.
He was a Long Sword user from Shiki and seemed to come from a samurai background. There was a good chance he knew of Devouring Demon, or had even mastered it himself.
It might even have been one of the trump cards that allowed him to challenge the "Demon King" several times and escape unharmed after every encounter.
Even if Sid did not know it himself, what about his teacher? What about the other Long Sword users he knew?
This looked promising!
Altaïr had already promised to bring Sid a "little gift" after they dealt with the "Demon King." He had set aside a bloodstained fang. The material was unsuitable for crafting equipment, but it would make a fine gift. He also had several photographs of the "Demon King" after its head had been severed. Sid would probably like those as well.
The more Altaïr considered the idea, the more plausible it seemed.
"Bang!"
Isis slammed her palm onto the table. The plates and bowls jumped, and several cracks split the once-smooth wooden surface.
This was nothing like her usual little tantrums, when she merely puffed out her cheeks and glared. Isis in a full-blown rage was terrifying, and the impact jolted Altaïr out of his pleasant daydream about learning a new Hunter Art.
The corner of Gordon's mouth twitched. "She really does look like her mother when she's angry," he muttered, giving Altaïr a sympathetic but helpless glance.
"All right, all right. I promise. I swear I won't do anything reckless." Altaïr raised a hand as though taking an oath.
For now, he would placate her, then find a way to persuade her gradually.
This time, however, Isis was not so easily appeased. She fixed Altaïr with a hard stare until he could no longer keep himself from looking away, then said coldly, "I'll be watching you."
Francesca joined in with playful emphasis. "She'll be watching you like a hawk!"
Altaïr: "..."
"..."
It seemed that persuading Isis to accept the idea would take considerably more time and effort.
The second half of the meal passed in a rather somber atmosphere, mostly because Isis's icy expression was a little frightening.
The good news was that she was still using her chopsticks. That proved she had not entered her most difficult mood. Once she had time to cool off, she would probably be fine.
Once the stacks of empty plates had been cleared away, Francesca was the first to rise. "Come on, Aunt Hayata, Isis! Let's go shopping!"
Hayata gave Francesca, who was plainly impatient to escape her chair, an amused, affectionate look and rose at her leisure.
Isis was still in low spirits and had little interest in shopping, but with her mother and Francesca tugging and urging her along, she reluctantly shuffled away from the table.
Shalan naturally followed with a skip in her step. To everyone's surprise, however, Clawdia chose not to go with them.
Her fear of "shopping with Aunt Shalan" outweighed the temptation of "shopping with Isis." She chose to remain beside her father and seek his protection.
After calling the Felyne Chef over to settle the bill, Gordon looked at Altaïr and Serl. "Do you two have any plans for the afternoon?"
Altaïr and Serl exchanged a glance, then shook their heads in unison.
"In that case, come loosen up with me at the Training Area."
"..."
"..."
Even if Altaïr and Serl were reluctant, they did not dare show it. They could only follow Gordon obediently.
Purrcival glanced at them but did not join them. Instead, he led Sajji and Clawdia out of the city.
Their last visit had been too rushed, but this time he wanted to see for himself how strong Sajji and Clawdia had become.
—--
Altaïr had no idea whether the ladies enjoyed their afternoon. All he knew was that he and Serl suffered through an utterly miserable one.
Especially Serl.
Altaïr's primary weapon was the Long Sword, but he was also quite proficient with heavy weapons such as the Great Sword and Hammer. Since he frequently used techniques such as the Charged Slash, strength work made up a significant portion of his training regimen.
In terms of raw strength, he was not much weaker than a Great Sword user of the same rank.
At more than 190 centimeters tall, he also carried a substantial amount of muscle.
Serl, by contrast, was a typical agility-focused Hunter. Speed and flexibility were what mattered to him, and beside Gordon or even Altaïr, his build looked almost slender.
Gordon's "relaxation exercises" had left him half-dead.
He now lay sprawled on the ground, his chest heaving like a bellows, his eyes vacant and his gaze unfocused.
Gordon crouched beside him and, without any warning, asked, "Kid, how exactly do you feel about Francesca?"
Off to one side, Altaïr was equally exhausted but had at least remained on his feet. He leaned back slightly.
Good grief, so Mr. Gordon had an ulterior motive? Was this an interrogation by exhaustion?
This had to count as torture, right?
Yet Serl's mental resilience was extraordinary. Gordon's sudden question made him jolt, and his expression instantly sharpened.
"I..."
He had barely begun when Gordon cut him off, his tone deadly serious. "Think carefully before you answer. I'll only ask this once."
"Your answer will reach her father's ears. You can take this as me asking on his behalf."
Serl opened his mouth, then closed it again.
After a long silence, he struggled into a sitting position, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "It's true. I have feelings for Francesca that go beyond friendship, and I believe she... feels the same way about me."
"But we both have things we can't give up for the other's sake."
"Smack!"
Gordon swung his broad hand and slapped Serl on the back, nearly knocking him flat against the ground again.
"That's the reason? I thought it was something serious. Don't overthink it, you youngsters. If you miss your chance, you'll regret it."
"How about I have Francesca's mother talk some sense into you sometime..."
* * *
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