As a mobile city, Val Habar had no facilities such as a library. However, the Elder Dragon Observation Team and the Royal Paleontology Scriveners had established an Ecological Research Institute there.
Scholars at the Research Institute generally did not refuse Hunters who came seeking information. Most Hunters, however, complained that scholars were "too long-winded," "never got to the point," or left them wondering, "Who could understand any of that?" As a result, very few Hunters ever visited the Research Institute.
Altaïr was different. He did not visit the Research Institute as regularly as a library, but when he needed information that even a library could not provide, consulting its scholars was a good alternative.
As long as he knew how to phrase his questions, he could obtain valuable intelligence with remarkable efficiency.
Altaïr began by asking about the Ghost Dragon. Unsurprisingly, the only firsthand information available there had also been compiled from the reports submitted by Ithra and her team.
Contrary to Ithra's belief that "no one cared," the scholars were intensely interested in the Ghost Dragon.
Further investigation had been shelved for one simple reason: the Guild had designated the ancient city ruins a restricted zone, and no powerful Hunter with time to spare could be found who was willing to risk venturing inside.
When the scholars heard that Altaïr planned to "investigate" the ancient city ruins, more than one volunteered to accompany the party.
Altaïr flatly refused. He did not know any of these scholars or their personalities, so bringing them along would only invite trouble.
Unable to secure permission to join him, the scholars immediately changed tack.
If Altaïr's investigation went smoothly, or if the mystery of the Ghost Dragon was solved, then as the nearest researchers, would they not be the first to reach the site and obtain firsthand research material?
With that hope in mind, the scholars responded with considerable enthusiasm when Altaïr said he wanted to gather clues from the legends surrounding "Gilkuza."
They brought him a large pile of mostly useless material: ancient myths and poems passed down among the Nomads.
Altaïr remembered hearing his elders use some of them to frighten children when he was young, such as the "Messengers of the Underworld." They could hardly be called useful intelligence.
One elderly archaeologist did offer a potentially useful insight.
Where had those legends and poems originated? They most likely came from the Gilgamesh Ancient Ruins and gradually became distorted during the long years when the site lay buried beneath the yellow sand.
Now that the ruins had resurfaced, why search through fragmentary, heavily distorted legends and poems instead of looking for firsthand clues within the ancient city itself?
"That means you need an experienced archaeologist to accompany you." When Altaïr nodded in silence, the old man revealed his true objective.
"Ancient scripts are my primary field of study. I could accompany you and translate any murals, inscriptions, or Ancient Scrolls we discover on the spot."
Altaïr discreetly swept his gaze over the elderly scholar's arms and legs, then politely declined his proposal once again.
He did not doubt the man's expertise in archaeology or ancient scripts, but his physical condition made it obvious that he was not accustomed to racing Monsters through the wilderness.
Bringing him into a hunting ground classified as a restricted zone would be a considerable liability.
The man's proposal did, however, open up a new line of thought for Altaïr.
The Ghost Dragon lay in the deepest part of the labyrinth beneath the ancient city, but the surface ruins were relatively safe. The party could begin with one final round of intelligence gathering aboveground.
If only they had a scholar who could interpret ancient scripts, possessed the agility to keep pace with High Rank Hunters, had ample field experience, and knew how to protect himself. Such a companion would be ideal.
Did such a person exist? Of course!
There was the Professor they knew, for instance. Given his personality, a single letter explaining the situation would probably make him abandon whatever minor work occupied him and fly over to join the investigation.
The problem was that no one knew where the Professor was at present. Dundorma was the most likely possibility, but if they sent a letter and waited for him to arrive by Airship, the journey would take at least four or five days. There simply was not enough time.
Failing that, the Professor's prized disciple, Mr. Alva, seemed like another excellent choice. He was currently at an oasis near Val Habar, overseeing the work on the corpse of Diablon, the "Demon King."
Mr. Alva's personality was somewhat eccentric, however. He outranked Altaïr and Isis in both seniority and status, and if he decided to act recklessly, the two of them might not be able to rein him in.
But what perfect timing! Your old partner is here too!
Having made up his mind, Altaïr took his leave of the enthusiastic scholars at the Research Institute. He jogged all the way to the Guild Hall and found Mr. Gordon feasting with Isis in the Tavern Area.
Isis had grease at the corners of her mouth and a huge haunch of meat in her hands, poised to take a bite. The sight nearly broke Altaïr's composure.
You sent me off to gather more information while you came here to stuff yourself?
Looking somewhat embarrassed when she saw Altaïr hurry over, Isis explained sheepishly, "It's our pre-departure Canteen meal. Want some?"
"..."
"Not just yet." Altaïr pushed the meat she offered back toward her. "Mr. Gordon, I'd like to make a slight adjustment to our itinerary.
"Could the Airship make a small detour, perhaps a few dozen kilometers, to pick someone up?"
—--
A small Airship slowly descended over the oasis.
The massive hull of the Knowledge Seeker stood out clearly on the ground below. The surrounding terrain had been leveled to facilitate the dissection and study of Diablon, the "Demon King," giving the small Airship a smooth, easy landing.
As the current head of both the vessel and its investigation team, Alva went over to greet the unfamiliar Airship.
When he saw that only Altaïr and Isis had stepped off, however, he gave a disgruntled snort, turned around, and prepared to head back.
Just those two? What a waste of my research time!
"Mr. Alva!" Altaïr called out to stop him. "Have you ever heard of Gilkuza?"
Alva did indeed stop. He turned and repeated the word. "Gilkuza? You mean the animated skeleton from the desert legends, the Ghost Dragon?
"I remember reports from several years ago that traces of Gilkuza had been found in the newly discovered Gilgamesh Ancient Ruins. I have no idea whether that information was true..."
Alva adjusted his glasses and muttered to himself.
Altaïr inwardly marveled at Mr. Alva's breadth of knowledge and sharp memory, but his smile never changed. "We can now confirm that the Ghost Dragon truly exists.
"We're preparing to investigate it. Since the ancient city ruins may contain Ancient Scrolls with information about the Ghost Dragon, we need an archaeologist who can read ancient scripts to accompany us.
"Isis and I both thought Alma would be an excellent choice, so we came to..."
"Alma? No, no, no. She's far too young. She doesn't have nearly enough knowledge or field experience yet." Alva strode decisively back toward them, muttering all the while.
"Don't bother looking for anyone else. I am the best candidate! The Knowledge Seeker can come with us and anchor near the ancient city, serving as a camp and providing logistical support for our operation.
"There are still a few loose ends to tie up with the corpse of Diablon, the 'Demon King'... Hmm, it's settled! I'll leave Lania in charge of a few people to finish the work here!"
The thought of such a perfect arrangement made Alva break into a series of strange cackles that sounded like an old squirrel.
The very next second, however, a figure that could only be described as massive vaulted down from the Airship. An arm far thicker than Alva's thigh hooked over his shoulder, making him instinctively tuck in his neck.
Gordon bared his teeth in a grin. "What're you laughing at?"