A Craftsman's Resolve
Matillo was an aging craftsman.
He had watched hunters and ordinary people fall too easily to monsters, and he had made a vow. He would become a craftsman and protect them.
But the greater his ambition, the harder it was to ever be satisfied with his own skill.
Ten years passed that way.
Throwing himself into his work had been nothing more than a way to soothe his heart. In truth, the gear he forged had never been flawed. Matillo knew that. If anything, it ranked among the finest. Yet his heart remained sealed shut, and so he could never bring himself to open a proper workshop. He hadn't managed to protect anyone even as a hunter — what right did a mere craftsman have to settle for this?
And so Matillo had been rotting away inside his workshop for a decade. He would have withered there completely — if he had never met Alice.
"Hmm."
Now he stood staring at the horn, hide, and claws of a Cespiratos, sunk deep in thought. He scratched at his eyepatch, rubbed his forearm, and let out a low groan.
"That brat's giving me a real headache."
How best to use these materials?
In Matillo's mind, the textbook approach was already set. Work them the same way one forged weapons from a Cespiratos of the original species, and it ought to be enough. But the blood-aura radiating from this horn was unmistakably different from any original. Simply plating it over something else would be a waste in every sense.
It wouldn't be easy. If he wanted to craft it the way he envisioned, there was a great deal of fine work still ahead of him.
Still — to think she'd brought down a monster like this.
Matillo ran his hand along the horn. A chill power seeped from it into his palm. He had been a hunter once himself, so he knew exactly how dangerous an Elder Species could be. They wielded grotesque powers no ordinary monster possessed, and each carried a single, lethally decisive technique. Almost nothing was known about how to counter them; even Master Hunters struggled against such foes.
Where in the world had this girl been rolling around to come back with a kill like this?
Matillo did not think the Cespiratos Elder Species had been weak. If anything, the kill only raised his estimation of Alice higher still.
When he first met her, she had been nothing but a mouthy, ill-mannered rookie hunter. Now the image of Alice in Matillo's mind was of a woman obsessed with the hunt. She could handle nearly any weapon, and more than that — she could actually use them in real combat. What kind of rookie was that? The word "rookie" was dead and buried.
In Matillo's judgment, Alice was a woman who outstripped even Weapon Master Oflo. Her skill was anything but ordinary. Where had she been living all this time, that a woman like her had never surfaced in the world? She was Master Hunter caliber — no, beyond it. That much was certain.
Matillo was a coldly practical man by nature. A fighting spirit was fine, but when it came to hunting monsters, cool judgment mattered far more than reckless passion. The cold clarity forged over long years of killing monsters also shaped the way he judged people.
The conclusion Matillo reached was simple: Alice was an absolute monster. That she would one day stand at the summit was only natural.
And yet — how had a woman like that found her way to him?
Matillo drifted into old memories.
It has to be you.
Those words had struck something deep in his chest. He had spent years turning his face from his own efforts, but Alice's blunt declaration had moved him in a way that didn't match the casual way she'd said it. After that, he had watched her path from the sidelines. He never left the workshop, but the craftsmen who stopped by from time to time brought him every scrap of news.
Most of what Matillo heard was exaggerated rumor and wild nonsense — but there was no smoke without fire. At the very least, her deeds had been worthy of the talk. And whenever he heard those stories, Matillo found himself in a good mood for no reason that had anything to do with him.
He could say it now.
Looking at Alice filled Matillo with a deep nostalgia. When he looked at her, he thought of his own child. It was a sorrowful memory he had never managed to shake free. It filled his chest to the brim, and from time to time it forced its way out and left him powerless.
And the monster that had killed his child — that one, too, he could never forget.
Matillo knew the danger of Elder Species because he had faced one himself. Even now, the memory made his teeth grind. That thing had turned the ground into the heart of hell. Somewhere out there, it was still breathing, slow and patient.
Matillo's blade had broken against it.
Life was not only death — but death had stolen the whole of life away.
Maybe… just maybe…
Matillo shook his head, cutting the thought short. He set aside the useless clutter of his mind, pulled on the gloves he'd left on the workbench, and began to work.
He did not want to lose her, too.
A full day passed, and Pina still hadn't returned to the lodging. Instead, she sent me a letter saying she'd be away for a while — something about a family trip. I thought about telling her not to go, but I couldn't very well hold her back, so I just let her leave.
The lodging without Pina felt painfully empty. With Noah gone, Fiore gone, and now Pina gone too, the only person I could call an acquaintance was Matillo.
"Brat. Thought you were heading out to hunt."
"Something came up."
I'd meant to come back in seven days, but after just one day I showed up at Matillo's workshop without a shred of shame. It wasn't that I had nothing to do. I'd simply handed him excellent materials and found myself curious. How exactly would Matillo forge a weapon from them?
The hunt was urgent enough, but going without Pina meant handling every little thing alone, which was a hassle. Taking the chance to show a little interest in the people around me didn't seem like a bad idea either. Not that "the people around me" currently amounted to anyone but Matillo.
"Hmm. Well, since you're here anyway, run an errand for me."
"Uh…"
"What, you don't have to look that openly disgusted."
"Ahem. What kind of errand?"
"…Simple. Go next door and pick up some materials. Quality Prejium ore. Use my name."
"That much is easy."
"Good. Come back when you're done and tell me."
Matillo waved me off and went back to working the horn.
Next door, he'd said. Matillo's workshop sat tucked in a corner, but the one right beside it wasn't far — twenty paces at most. Following his directions, I stepped inside.
There were no customers, but the workshop still breathed out a thick, sweltering heat. Inside, a single blacksmith was hard at work — a man with a blue bandana wrapped around his head. Like Matillo, he wore heavy gloves, and he was hauling coal.
"Excuse me."
"…Ah, who are you?"
The blacksmith stopped what he was doing and set down his tongs. He came over with his face smeared thick with soot — and not just his face. Black powder dusted him from head to toe.
"Ah, the white hair! You're the new light, aren't you? The rising star of the hunter world lately…"
The blacksmith recognized me as he drew close and broke into a bright smile.
"And the only customer Old Man Matillo has ever taken on."
"You know about that?"
"The rumors fly thick among us craftsmen. That the old man finally finished his closed-door training, that his granddaughter became a hunter — that sort of thing. So I have to ask: are you actually Old Man Matillo's daughter or granddaughter?"
"No. Completely unrelated."
"Right, of course — you don't look a thing like him. If it had been true, it would've been as shocking a change as an Elder Species. Though, come to think of it, Old Man Matillo's hair is starting to match yours."
Was that a roundabout dig at Matillo's graying hair? Still, there didn't seem to be any malice in the blacksmith. If anything, the fact that he could joke like this suggested he and Matillo were fairly close.
"I'm Colpo. And you're Alice, right, Hunter?"
"That's right. Hey."
"Yes, hello, Alice. So — what brings you to my workshop?"
"Matillo sent me to pick up some Prejium ore."
"Ah… Prejium?"
"What?"
"Well, that's a bit awkward."
Colpo scratched his head as he spoke.
"I've been forging gear, so I'm short on Prejium ore right now."
"That's a problem."
"But it's not like there's no alternative."
"How?"
"I can patch things over with monster materials."
Was that really fine? I just looked at him.
"…No, I mean for the gear I'm making. I can't hand the old man substitute materials. If you bring me the materials, I'll give you the Prejium ore."
"So what do you want?"
"A rock-armored beast."
"A Kometras?"
Kometras. Now there was a name I hadn't heard in a while.
"They say a Kometras's stone carapace is similar to Prejium ore. That makes it a fair trade."
"Easy enough."
"Right? You've already hunted one before. Taking another shouldn't be hard."
Not hard so much as annoying. I would have handed over the materials on the spot, but I'd already used what I had making the tachi, and nothing was left. I hadn't planned on hunting anything until Pina got back — but if it was for the sake of forging a weapon, I'd have to move.
"How much do you need?"
"Hmm, not a lot. One kill should be plenty."
"Fine."
One of them wasn't a difficult job. My first hunt in a while without Pina, then.
I was about to leave the workshop when Colpo stopped me.
"Hunter, hold on a moment."
He opened a door deeper in the workshop, disappeared inside, and came back carrying a box. He handed it to me and dusted off his hands. Curious, I gave the box a gentle shake. Something rattled inside. The sound alone told me nothing.
Colpo spoke up for my benefit.
"That's Prejium ore. Take it."
"…What? Just like that?"
"Old Man Matillo sent you. I can't very well make you wait. Give him my regards. And don't forget the Kometras carapace. I'm counting on you."
With that, Colpo turned his back. A more easygoing man than I'd expected. Which probably meant he trusted Matillo that much.
I left the workshop with the box in hand, turning over the conversation with Colpo in my mind.
Daughter or granddaughter, huh.
Come to think of it, I knew nothing at all about Matillo's family. Judging by the fact that even Colpo didn't know, Matillo had never shown that side of himself. It had never come up in the game either, so I had nothing to go on.
Still, I didn't particularly want to ask Matillo about his family. That was a sensitive subject in more ways than one.