The Lonely Giant
It was a highland where white snow drifted down in a slow, endless fall — a place so thin of air that even breathing came hard.
On that pure white expanse, with nothing but snow in every direction, a giant calmly let out a breath.
Psshh—.
Where was this?
Why was it standing in a place like this?
The giant lifted its pure white eyes and looked up at the sky.
By instinct alone, it understood that the ground beneath its feet was land it had never once set foot on before.
Thin oxygen at high altitude. Air utterly unlike anything it knew — and a temperature just as foreign.
Everything was different from the world the giant remembered.
It exhaled again.
Psshh—.
The giant's breath turned into tiny frost crystals and drifted weakly to the ground. Where those crystals touched the earth, ice flowers bloomed.
A sudden emptiness settled over it. The giant laid a hand on its own shoulder.
Nothing was there.
My little friend.
Where are you now?
It sniffed the air, but nowhere could it catch its friend's scent.
Had the friend wandered off again while it slept?
The giant took a step.
THUD—!
At that single movement, a monster that had been holding its breath finally showed itself.
It was a pure white Luga-lac — one that had chosen to adapt to this new, freezing environment.
KRRRrr.
A warrior that never flinched before anyone bared its fangs even in the face of a giant.
The giant looked down at the white Luga-lac.
Seeing the murderous light in the beast's eyes, it eventually raised a hand.
The white Luga-lac kicked off the snow-covered ground and charged.
!!!
Claws out, blade-bones grown from its elbows thrust forward — the Luga-lac's best effort to tear the giant apart.
An attack without hesitation before an enemy. The spirit was admirable.
It simply had no idea of its opponent's true power.
The Luga-lac slammed into the back of the giant's hand and went flying sideways.
A pitiful yelp tore from the warrior's throat.
The giant had no intention of killing it. This was not a motion meant to take a life — more like swatting away a fly.
To the giant, the Luga-lac was nothing more than a nuisance.
The Luga-lac's body rolled limply across the ground. Teeth broken. Elbow blades shattered.
From a single collision, it understood it could never win.
!!
Tucking its tail, the Luga-lac whimpered and fled.
The giant watched the retreating Luga-lac with a blank stare.
Fast…
Then it dropped onto the spot as if collapsing onto its rear.
A thunderous rumble rolled up from its stomach.
Gurgle—.
Hungry.
It should have eaten that thing just now.
The giant scratched its protruding shovel of a jaw. Then it yawned wide enough to split its mouth and slowly lay down on its side.
Pure white, fluffy fur rippled in the wind. When hunger came, the best thing was to stay still and do nothing at all.
Times like these were when a friend was needed. A friend would have lured prey over and brought it right to its side.
The giant quietly closed its eyes.
To soothe its empty stomach, it chose a long sleep — hoping its friend would come looking for it once more.
The Branch Manager explained everything to me in a calm, measured voice.
"The outpost on the snow-covered highlands is called Lacrima. A general of the kingdom is in command there now."
A general, huh.
If it was the general I knew, the man was not exactly known for flexibility.
The Branch Manager hesitated, briefly touching the corner of his mouth.
"The general is… I hate to say it, but he's a stubborn fool."
Sounded like the same person I was thinking of.
Just to be sure, I tilted my head at his words.
"What kind of guy are we talking about, roughly?"
"A typical man of the inner territories. He doesn't put much trust in hunters from the outer regions. The hunters' complaints about him are endless."
"Hmm."
A general of Cartadia.
The man was so incompetent you had to wonder how he ever climbed into that seat in the first place.
Exploration of the highlands had probably made almost no progress at all.
The Branch Manager glanced over a document as he continued.
"Still, they managed one thing. Footprints were found. Enormous footprints the hunters had never seen before."
He pointed to a drawing of a footprint on the papers.
"Looking at the prints alone, they aren't that different from a human's. Humanoid — surprising, isn't it? But the size is anything but ordinary. They say the footprints are larger than an Alberoelva's. We're treating it as a Supreme-grade monster for now. Could be jumping the gun, of course."
The document showed a sketch of the footprint's shape.
It looked human enough, but it had only four toes, and the claws at the tips were long enough to dig into the ground.
The prints were distinctive enough that I identified the creature on the spot.
The Branch Manager's assessment was right.
It was a Supreme-grade monster.
Of course it was. On a snow-covered highland, that was exactly the monster that should appear.
The Snow Man — Neveumano.
The representative monster of the anomalous lands, of the highlands where snow never melted.
A strange thought struck me, and I asked the Branch Manager,
"…Is this the only footprint?"
He nodded.
"That's right. No other tracks. Why do you ask?"
The Neveumano I knew never traveled alone.
For all its bulk, Neveumano was sluggish, and hunting prey was never easy for it. Unlike an Alberoelva, it had no way to hide its body under something else.
A Snow Man like that should have had a symbiotic "friend" attached to it — so why were there no other footprints at all?
I rubbed the corner of my mouth and mumbled,
"No reason… Just curious."
That was what I said out loud. Inside, I was already piecing the situation together.
Had the two of them been separated by the aftershock of crossing through time?
More precisely, they hadn't crossed over on their own — it was closer to a summoning by the Crossing Dragon, Miteraos.
I leaned back against the chair and looked at the Branch Manager.
"So when do I need to leave?"
"In my opinion, they need support immediately. There's still no Master Hunter on the highlands."
That explained why the general's authority ran so strong up there.
The hunters must have been having a miserable time.
Out in the wasteland, Melchior had been the type to listen carefully to the hunters' opinions. He had even encouraged everyone to pull together as one.
The Branch Manager added,
"If a Master Hunter goes, the conversation changes. We'll be able to raise our voice as well."
So I was supposed to go and mediate the disagreements.
It felt like I'd been handed a job harder than hunting itself.
This was my first real duty as a Master Hunter, and the weight of responsibility sat heavy on my shoulders.
Once I got there, the hunters would move with their trust placed entirely on me. That much was obvious.
The pressure was real in more ways than one — but I did want to free the hunters suffering under that general.
"…Do I have to go right away?"
Leaving immediately was going to be difficult, though.
The weapons forged from Disastro materials still weren't ready, and Pina was still off spending time with her family.
Pina I could call back quickly enough. The weapons, however, were in Matillo and Colpo's hands.
Would I have to make do with other gear for a while?
I let out a short sigh.
"…Pina's timing is bad. She's busy being with her family right now."
"Pina? Ah, your supporter. Hmm… Without a supporter, things will be rough. How about three days from now, then?"
Three days. I nodded.
"Three days is plenty."
"We'll prepare while we send you up. We'll need a great deal of Thermal Powder, for one."
"Then… should I head to the stables on the morning of the third day?"
"Yes. Bring your luggage there, and the Association will handle the rest."
I made one more request of the Branch Manager.
"There's also a weapon being made for me, but I don't know when it'll be finished. I'd like it delivered later if possible."
"A weapon? Ah… so they're using Disastro materials."
I blinked at him for nailing the materials so precisely.
"Wait, you knew?"
"Of course I did. I am the Branch Manager here, after all. Information about what goes on above filters down to me in broad strokes."
He cleared his throat with a proud little ahem.
Fair enough. He was one of the Association's higher-ups in his own right.
A sudden curiosity made me glance at his hair.
Lately it looked as if its strength had drained away.
The stress from the anomalies must have been brutal.
"Has anything else been going on in Antico recently?"
"Ah, well… these days there's nowhere without trouble. Monsters whose territories have been invaded by things that crossed through time refuse to sit still. Stress, pure stress."
He sighed as he said it.
Was this the system where becoming Branch Manager thinned your hair, and becoming Association President made it vanish entirely?
The weight of sitting in a high seat really was enough to bring a person to tears.
Feeling a little sorry for him, I offered something kind.
"…Still, the reason Antico stays this peaceful and beautiful is because of efforts like yours, isn't it? Everyone must be grateful."
I looked toward the window outside the Branch Manager's office.
Everyone was working hard to protect this beautiful world.
The Branch Manager's efforts were flowing straight out through his hair.
His eyes went wide at my words.
"…Alice. Looking at you now, a lot of that venom you had when we first met seems to have faded."
The comment came out of nowhere.
I tilted my head at the sudden turn toward me.
"Has it?"
"Your speech has softened a little, too. Honestly, I never imagined you'd say something like that."
I shrugged at his words.
I had never had anything that could be called venom in the first place.
What the Branch Manager was talking about was probably the venom that flowed from this body — from that girl, the rabbit.
So you like this world too, huh. This world is just as beautiful as the future you once lived in.
The Branch Manager finished organizing the documents and closed the conversation.
"At any rate, I'm counting on you. If a monster like that leaves the highlands, the kingdom will be in danger for certain. Your task there is to support the Lacrima Outpost and find the owner of those footprints. Think of the future as resting on your shoulders."
He couldn't have meant it that way — and yet his words cut straight through everything I was.
It was almost uncanny, coming from someone who had no idea of my true identity.
I stood and nodded.
"Yeah. I'll give it a shot."
What we had to protect was not only the future.
This present we were living in was something we had to protect as well.
Without a now, there would be no future either.