Three hulking figures, two over 190 centimeters tall and one nearly 210, walked down a street in Manti Town with their arms slung around one another's shoulders, drawing plenty of attention.
Whether Ted had long since grown accustomed to people's astonished stares or was simply a born show-off, no one could say.
Far from minding the attention, Ted held his head high and swaggered along as if he might start shouting, "All eyes on me!" at any moment.
Isis and Altaïr were not nearly as thick-skinned. They lifted Ted's massive arms from their shoulders and trailed after him like two little sidekicks, heads lowered as they hid in the shadow of his enormous frame...
Fortunately, they did not have far to go. A few minutes later, they arrived at a hotel that looked plain from the outside but had bright windows and appeared quite clean.
The three ducked through the entrance one after another. Ted even had to turn sideways to squeeze through the doorframe, which had been built for a person of ordinary size.
At the front desk, the hotel owner confirmed that Malika was still in their room and had not left the hotel.
Ted rubbed his huge hands together, whether from disappointment or anxiety was hard to tell.
"You two, keep your wits about you," he told Altaïr and Isis in a low voice.
His bold words back at the mayor's mansion had come while the alcohol was still clouding his mind. Now, after more than ten minutes outside in the cold wind, he was gradually sobering up and realizing that he was probably going to die.
Isis gave him a thumbs-up. "Don't worry, Uncle Ted. We've got your back!"
As far back as she could remember, Isis had only met Ted two or three times. Minegarde and Dundorma were a considerable distance apart, after all.
But Ted's cheerful, easygoing nature made him impossible for a child not to like. He never lectured Isis about speaking politely, smiling with her mouth closed, or stifling loud burps. He never forced her to memorize books, either; instead, he let her ride on his shoulders and took her out to play.
This was especially true for Isis.
Her grandfather Amos doted on her, but his personality would never allow him to do something like carry her around on his shoulders.
Gael would have indulged her, but by the time Isis was seven or eight, she was already 150 centimeters tall. Riding on the shoulders of a woman who stood only 170 centimeters herself was hardly practical...
Her father would have been the perfect person to carry her around, but his demanding work had caused him to miss almost her entire childhood.
Ted alone had ever given her the simple joy an ordinary child felt when a parent carried them around.
So even though Ted was at fault this time, she was going to help him!
Isis clenched her fists.
Sensing her sudden resolve, Altaïr gave her a strange look and wondered what had gotten her so fired up.
Ted took a deep breath. His expression grew serious as he made several hand signals.
Stay alert. Keep quiet. Move out.
Altaïr stared at him.
Seriously?
Why did Ted still feel the need to use tactical hand signals?
But Isis had already fallen in behind him, keeping close to Ted's flank and guarding his rear and side.
The pair advanced single file toward the guest rooms on the second floor, their steps light and measured. They moved with all the caution of Hunters in the field, constantly on guard against a Monster ambush.
The innkeeper stared after them with an odd expression, then turned to Altaïr and lowered his voice. "Could Mr. Ted's wife have turned into a Monster, so he hired a Hunter to hunt her down? I knew there was something strange about that woman! Who wears a veil all the time?"
Altaïr said nothing.
The innkeeper's eyes widened in confusion.
As absurd as the question was, Altaïr did not want any ugly rumors spreading later, so he gave the overly imaginative innkeeper a serious explanation.
"Nothing of the sort. Mr. Ted got drunk, stayed out all night, and is afraid his wife will scold him."
"Oh, all right..." The tension drained from the innkeeper's face, replaced by disappointment.
The corner of Altaïr's mouth twitched. He quickened his pace to catch up.
The three reached the room Ted had rented. Ted made one more "get ready" gesture, knocked, turned the handle, and pushed open the door before hunching down to squeeze inside.
Ted was so tall and broad that he completely blocked the standard single doorway. Altaïr could not see what was happening inside at all.
Keeping close to Ted's side, Isis rose onto her toes and peered into the room.
A tall woman with a gauze scarf veiling her face sat alone by the tea table in front of the window, arms crossed as she stared coldly at the doorway.
Ted gave a dry laugh, suddenly unsure how to begin.
Isis knew that her moment had come!
She squeezed forward, shoved Ted aside from the doorway, stepped into the room, and called out brightly.
"Aunt Malika!"
The veiled woman froze for a moment, then rose from her chair. The icy anger in her eyes dissolved like salt in boiling water. "Isis? It's been years, and you've grown so tall!" she exclaimed.
Altaïr noticed that her voice was extremely hoarse. The rasp did not sound natural; it seemed that her vocal cords had been injured.
Isis hurried over and pulled her into a tight embrace.
At over 170 centimeters, Malika was undeniably tall by ordinary standards, yet even she disappeared into the long-limbed Isis's arms.
Remembering how Ted and Malika had taken her all over the place to play when she was a child, Isis sniffled.
Her emotion was entirely genuine.
Malika's eyes reddened as well. She stroked Isis's head while the two murmured to each other.
Still wedged in the doorway, Ted turned and gave Altaïr a thumbs-up as if to say, "The plan worked perfectly!"
Most of his face was hidden behind the doorframe, however, so Altaïr could see only his broad grin and a mouthful of teeth that seemed a full size larger than normal.
Ted and Altaïr entered the room.
By the window, Isis and Malika finally drew apart after embracing for a good ten seconds.
When Ted came in wearing a foolish grin and carrying two bottles of fine liquor, Malika shot him a glare. With Isis there, however, she could hardly lose her temper on the spot.
Then her gaze settled on Altaïr, who had entered behind Ted.
About Isis's age... Espinas Armor Set? He must be skilled... Light-brown skin, white hair... A desert native?
Ted discreetly nudged Altaïr from behind. Altaïr stepped forward, presented Malika with the basket of premium fruit he was carrying, then performed the Great Desert's traditional greeting to an elder.
Ted and Isis stared at him in unison.
Wait, where did he get a fruit basket? How did we not notice it before?
He must have grabbed it from the banquet table.
Malika accepted the basket with delighted surprise. The gift itself mattered little to her, but she appreciated the gesture. What truly pleased her was the accent in Altaïr's voice.
It was the familiar accent of her homeland.
For the moment, she forgot all about interrogating Ted over where he had spent the night and why he reeked of alcohol. Instead, she caught Altaïr by the arm and peppered him with questions about their hometown.
"Is that fellow with the little mustache still the Guild Master?"
"You live on Yellow Sand Road? That's less than a block from my old home!"
"You served in the Loc Lac Rangers too? And in the Sandship fleet? Then we have exactly the same background!"
"Boss Joda? Hahahaha! We were in the same cohort. He's in charge now?"
Out of practice after so long without speaking it, Malika's Desert dialect was halting at first. After only a few exchanges, however, it became clear and fluent once more.
Her voice remained hoarse, but the joy in her tone was unmistakable.
Only when she asked about the Imperial Conqueror Dragon's attack the previous year did her mood turn somber. Her seniors and friends had been among the Hunters killed in that battle.
Minegarde and Loc Lac were simply too far apart for any plea for aid to reach her in time. By the time she heard the news and rushed to help, the battle had already been over for days...
"You took part in that operation? You were part of the main force that intercepted the Elder Dragon?!"
Both Malika and Ted stared at her in astonishment.
"Yeah." Isis touched the scar on her cheek. "There seems to be something unusual about an Elder Dragon's breath. Every other scar on my body has faded, but this one never has."
"Of course it hasn't." Malika sighed softly. "If you don't want to end up like me, you'd better be as careful as you can."
She removed the gauze scarf from her face, revealing a hideous scar that covered nearly half of it.
(Translated by yourtl.app)