The First Solo Hunt
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yeah."
Noah couldn't understand why Alice was so dead set on that cranky old man. Sending someone to take down a monster alone wasn't a request anyone would make unless they had a truly twisted sense of humor. It wasn't that she doubted Alice's skill.
But hunting was the kind of work where variables could appear anywhere, at any time. No matter how capable Alice was, she needed someone who could cover her when the unexpected hit.
"Want me to come with you…?"
"No. I'll handle it alone. You should take other requests while I'm gone, Noah."
But Alice refused, firm and absolute.
What the hell is so special about that old geezer?
Noah pouted, lips jutting out as her brow furrowed. Antico had plenty of other workshops besides that one old man. There were even a few places she would have recommended herself.
But Alice had turned down every single alternative, as if it absolutely had to be him and no one else. Not knowing what was going on in Alice's head only made it more frustrating.
"…Noah. Are you really mad?"
Alice must have picked up on it, because she reached out and took Noah's hand.
"Ah—no. It's just…"
"…Sorry."
She didn't need to apologize. The one who ought to be sorry was that old man, not Alice.
"But you saw him, right? He's not a bad person."
"…Yeah."
Noah couldn't argue with that. The armor and weapon Alice wore right now were his work. For all his grumbling, the old man had even taken her measurements himself. Whether he was kind or just eccentric was anyone's guess.
The image of him hammering away alone flickered through Noah's mind. Maybe Alice had seen something in him that others missed. Maybe she had reached out to that shabby, neglected forge that no one else ever visited, so different from the rest of the smithies in town.
If he truly hadn't wanted customers, he never would have left the door open in the first place. He could have locked it and gone about his business. Thinking about it, he really was a walking contradiction.
"Trust me."
And so Noah had no choice but to trust Alice's decision.
I finally managed to talk Noah down—she'd been so dead set against letting me go that it took everything I had to shake her off. Still, she gave in to my stubbornness in the end, and I was grateful for that. If I wanted to prove my choice was the right one, I had to become a hunter worthy of Matillo's standards.
A spirit of challenge.
That was the message running through this entire game—and the mindset Matillo demanded of a hunter.
If you don't know, you take the hit. But never give up. Keep challenging yourself until you claim the victory.
It was a game that leaned harder on the first half of that message than the second, but the fact that it had a message like that at all was kind of funny. I'd learned it the hard way myself—taking hit after hit until I finally won.
And at the end of that road, the only ones left standing were the veterans who hunted monsters in their underwear while everyone else still needed full armor…
To someone like me, a Kakari was nothing special.
I left Antico and stepped back into the forest. I ran my hand over the map Noah had packed for me and the waist bag stuffed full of tools. Feeling that well-stocked bag, I could sense how much she cared—how worried she was about me.
Noah's waiting. Let's get this done.
I set foot into the forest. The place I'd fought so hard to escape, and now I was walking back in of my own free will. This was going to be a regular part of my life as a hunter from now on.
The rustle of leaves brushing together. The sharp cries of birds. The sounds settled around my ears once more. Nature was whispering to me. The real hunt was about to begin.
My first contract target: the Fire Bird, Kakari.
Kakari was an avian monster that lived in the Forest of Illusion. It wasn't the type to attack the moment your eyes met, but it was fiercely territorial. Anyone who wandered into its domain uninvited got an aggressive welcome.
It breathed fire, rammed with the hard crest on its head, and tore with razor-sharp talons. If you just got out of its territory fast enough, Kakari wouldn't bother chasing you—but that meant nothing to a hunter who'd come specifically to fight it.
Its territory centered precisely around its nest. Find the nest, and finding Kakari itself was a piece of cake.
But in a forest this vast, nothing was ever that easy. That was why hunters tracked signs.
"…Here."
Sharp talon marks on a tree. Not the savage gouges a Luga-lac left behind—these were neat, slanted in one direction, like a bird grooming its own claws. This was Kakari's mark, identical to the ones in the game.
A territorial claim. Leaving its scent and scars so other monsters and living things would stay away.
I reached out and touched the talon marks. The scraped bark crumbled under my fingers. The marks were hard, and judging by the state of the wood, they'd been made a while ago.
Still, if it had left claw marks, there had to be footprints nearby. I studied the ground carefully.
Plenty of tracks from small monsters and lesser creatures. Somewhere among them would be Kakari's—unusually large, trident-shaped avian prints.
…There.
I knelt in front of the footprint and brushed the dirt with my fingers. Then I snapped a twig from the underbrush and pressed it into the print. The stick sank in, but the ground was a little firm. Not fresh.
The tips of the trident pointed deeper into the forest. Kakari's tracks led me further in.
Finding the signs. Analyzing its direction and range of activity. Slowly tightening the noose around my target's neck.
The thought that I was getting closer made my heart pound. This was different from fighting a Luga-lac or a Pienos.
Hunting down prey with my own two hands—it was genuinely fun. Genuinely joyful.
In this forest crawling with monsters, I felt alive. I felt that what I was doing here wasn't just some game. I was living a new life in this world, dissolving into it completely. And that meant I liked what I was doing—liked it a lot.
My eyes and hands kept following its trail.
The sun was already high overhead. It felt like I'd only just entered the forest, but time had slipped away. I pulled some jerky from my bag and chewed as I continued the search.
At some point, Kakari's trail started to feel like it was looping.
I'd been pressing holes into each of its footprints as markers—and from here on, every print I found already had one of my stick-marks in it.
Right. I'd been walking in a circle.
Had I tracked it wrong? I calmly worked through the logic. In chasing Kakari, I'd made a wide loop in one direction and come right back to where I started.
That meant either Kakari and I were drawing the same circle right now—or the inside of this broad ring was its territory. The moment I stepped inward, I'd become an invader, and Kakari would attack.
I trusted my reasoning and walked straight in without hesitation. Kakari's attack didn't matter.
I was here to kill it, after all.
The Fire Bird Kakari patrolled its territory on a regular cycle.
Inside the nest built on the ground lay three eggs. The Forest of Illusion was full of thieves who coveted Kakari eggs, and the bird spent its days fending off every intruder that entered its domain.
It had just finished another patrol. No trespassers in its territory today.
A peaceful stretch of time. A chance, at last, to catch its breath.
It scraped the earth with its sharp talons and gave its wings a vigorous flap. It preened with its beak, working oil out of the red sac at its throat. It scratched the crest on its head against a tree trunk, easing an itch.
Karruu…
Savoring the rare peace, it settled slowly onto its eggs. Its head stayed upright, vigilance never fully dropping. The Forest of Illusion was a land where you could never afford to let your guard down.
An intruder could appear at any moment.
Thud. Thud.
Among the sounds of nature, Kakari caught a footfall that didn't belong. The steps that broke the forest's harmony were drawing steadily closer. Its blank eyes swept the surroundings.
And then it saw her.
"…Found you."
Kakari rose from its nest.
The opponent was a white-haired human. The massive weapon on her back made her purpose unmistakably clear. Those flat, unreadable eyes were fixed on Kakari.
Karururu…
A low, rumbling cry. Kakari parted its beak slightly. It spread its wings a fraction, puffed up its body, and lowered its neck. Small tongues of flame flickered from its mouth in warning.
Back off. Do not enter this territory.
But the human didn't retreat. She came closer. She looked at Kakari without a trace of fear, great weapon in hand, eyes flashing. Peach-pink irises met its own.
Pure killing intent wrapped around Kakari. Only then did it understand.
This human didn't want the eggs.
What happened to its eggs meant nothing to her. All she wanted was Kakari's life.
Kyaaaa!!!
Kakari roared. The cry tore from a bird's throat and rippled through the air, every ounce of its hostility aimed at a single human.
The roar finished, Kakari scraped the ground with its talons—then charged, hard crest lowered like a battering ram.
Crash!
Hunter and monster collided.