Seeing the wyverian artisan's expression sour, Altaïr quickly covered for Isis, "We're just trying to figure out a direction to aim for first, that's all."
Beside him, Isis nodded rapidly.
The wyverian artisan watched them expressionlessly. He wasn't a fool; it would be strange if these kids left his shop and didn't immediately start planning to hunt a Lagiacrus or a Gravios.
Under the smith's stern stare, Altaïr's smile turned sheepish.
"Alright, I admit we do plan to hunt one," he confessed honestly.
Once the hunt was done and they brought back the materials, they'd still need to ask this master smith to forge it, so deception was pointless.
"But I promise, we won't just charge in recklessly. We'll investigate and prepare thoroughly beforehand, bring every kind of trap and tool, and conduct the hunt cautiously."
"Mm-hmm!" Isis nodded furiously again.
As the only one among the three truly qualified to hunt those two 5★ Threat Level Monsters, Lagiacrus and Gravios, Nymera also spoke up:
"We will conduct the hunt in the safest way possible. Should danger arise, I will cover their retreat."
Watching the three young people swear up and down that they'd be careful while clearly itching to set off already, the wyverian artisan was silent for a moment. "Let me see your Hunter's Notes."
Altaïr, Isis, and Nymera exchanged glances, then took out their respective Hunter's Notes and handed them over.
The wyverian artisan carefully flipped through their notes.
Though he appeared about the same age as a human in their thirties or forties, his actual age was more than enough for him to be their grandfather. His veteran experience was not limited solely to the forging stand.
From the records in their Hunter's Notes and details like their quest completion rates, he could essentially assess the trio's strength.
After looking through them, he found that Nymera, a proper 5★ hunter, was one thing, but how had Isis and Altaïr hunted nearly as many 5★ Threat Level Monsters as many 5★ hunters?
Just how much do you all love taking hunts above your rank...?
With a complicated expression, he handed their notes back and spoke again. "If the three of you watch each other's backs and stay cautious, hunting one 5★ Threat Level Monster shouldn't be too much trouble.
"But remember, you only have one life. Don't be stubborn. If you run into danger, don't hesitate, just retreat."
The three nodded repeatedly.
"There aren't any Lagiacrus or Gravios near Val Habar, but a little further out at Leke Bay, you can find Lagiacrus. For Gravios, you'd need to take an Airship across the Old Sea, and you can find them in the Volcano region.
"If you decide to hunt a Lagiacrus, you must account for underwater combat. Best to find a seasoned water-combat veteran to guide you, otherwise you won't even know how to move once you're in the water.
"For Gravios, it'll be relatively more convenient, at least it's a land creature. You can head to Harth first and make your hunting preparations there.
"That's my apprentice Gemma's hometown. Isis, you must have met her? She's a good friend of your parents, so be sure to say hello to her."
Isis looked at the wyverian artisan and blinked. "Uncle Smithy, so besides equipment-related matters, you can actually string together this many words in one go, huh."
In an instant, the wyverian artisan's ear tips seemed to droop, his whole demeanor one of utter devastation.
"Am I... too long-winded..."
Altaïr hurriedly clamped a hand over Isis's mouth. "No, no, that's not what Isis meant.
"Every word you say, Smithy, is crucial intelligence and helps us immensely!"
Realizing the ambiguity in her own words, Isis also pulled Altaïr's hand away. "I meant, Uncle Smithy, you could be a little more lively day to day too!"
With explanations and reassurances, and no small amount of effort, the unexpectedly sensitive and delicate-hearted wyverian artisan finally pulled himself out of that morose feeling of being disliked by the younger generation.
Seeing it was almost noon, Isis took the initiative to invite the wyverian artisan to lunch together at the Felyne Chef's.
The latter declined, however; far more than fine food, he was interested in design and forging.
He also felt his presence would make the young people self-conscious. So, after taking all three of their body measurements, he returned to his workbench and resumed his busy labors.
Altaïr's group once again offered their deepest thanks, called for Hibiki, who had been chasing Popo around wildly in the beast pen, and left the wyverian artisan's shop.
—--
Isis was someone who loved a lively crowd.
The wyverian artisan didn't join their gathering, the old merchant they'd originally planned to visit was mysteriously elusive, and it wasn't even certain if he was currently in Val Habar; the ever-busy Ms. Sophia had no time at all to come out and dine with them.
Feeling three people didn't make enough of a "crowd," she reached out to another "kindred spirit" of hers living in Val Habar.
Under Isis's guidance, the group followed the scent of food through the market to a street lined with eateries.
There, they easily found that caravan shaped like a giant steamed bun.
Isis cupped her hands and hollered at the top of her lungs, "Jara! Come out and eat!"
Almost the very next second after she shouted, the curtain of the steamed bun caravan was flung open.
A plump, fair-skinned figure hopped down from the caravan, his physique too much to call perfectly spherical, yet still far too round to be merely egg-shaped.
Once he got a clear look at his visitors' faces, the big fellow's eyes lit up, and he dashed over at a speed that belied his bulk.
"Isis!"
"Jara!"
Isis also strode forward to meet him, and just at the moment they were about to collide head-on, they both leaped, twisted in midair, and collided back-to-back.
With a muffled "Thump!", the two landed on the ground and immediately burst into a round of laughter and roughhousing.
Nymera's mouth fell open. "What in the world? Who is this man, to go blow for blow with Isis, who is wearing full Basarios Armor, in a collision?
"Doesn't he... doesn't that hurt?"
Altaïr eyed the ridges on Isis's Basarios Armor and the equally angular Glavenus Gunlance on her back, and couldn't help but wince.
"Maybe... it works if your layer of fat is thick enough."
Jara, who had just finished laughing and joking with Isis, turned toward Altaïr. "Altaïr!"
The surprisingly nimble big man spread his arms wide and charged over at a sprint.
For an instant, Altaïr felt he was facing a Congalala launching a predatory attack, and hastily dodged to the side.
Jara hugged empty air and turned around, indignant. "Now that's just cold, man."
"Don't give me that. If I hadn't dodged, you'd have body-slammed me to the ground." Altaïr shook his head firmly.
Was it just his imagination, or had this guy widened by another half circle compared to two years ago? Was he still putting on weight?! A thread of unease rose in Altaïr's heart. "So, Jara, have you gotten fatter? Can your body actually handle this?"
"Relax! To enjoy more fine food, I wouldn't dream of ruining my own body." Hearing the worry in Altaïr's tone, Jara chuckled heartily and gave his belly a firm slap.
"Don't let the looks fool you, there's hardly any visceral fat in there. It's all muscle and subcutaneous fat. According to the doctor, it's like a healthy walrus!"
"..." Altaïr fell silent for a second, then figured it made sense.
Although Isis hadn't used her full strength earlier, for a man in plain clothes to match a fully armed Isis in a head-on collision, this guy's physical prowess was far beyond any ordinary fat man.
"Saw Sajji at Teacher Naziya's this morning, so I knew you had arrived. So what's the plan, just passing through or sticking around for a while?"
"We should be staying for a while." Altaïr smiled. "The Felyne Chef said he'd cook a good meal for Isis, and she thought of you, her food buddy. Where's Teacher Naziya's caravan parked? Shall we call her and Sajji and go together?"
"No need. Those two are holed up in the workshop tinkering with stuff; they won't want to come. We can just bring them some leftovers when we're done."
As he spoke, Jara rubbed his plump, meaty hands together. "The Felyne Chef going all out on a special feast; it's been ages since I've had the chance to eat that!
"Ah, I almost forgot. I just got my hands on something rare; let's eat it together while we have the chance!"
Saying this, Jara scampered back to his steamed bun caravan and hauled out a large chunk of something wrapped in oilcloth, faintly emanating white vapor, apparently kept fresh at low temperature with Ice Crystals.
"Fresh Gobul liver and Gobul meat! Let's go, let's go!"
(Translated by yourtl.app)