Minegarde

If Hayata learned to hunt under Amos, at least she probably wouldn't develop into the muscle-bound type, right?

With that thought in mind, Pine discussed it with his niece, and Hayata had no objections.

It had nothing to do with courage or conviction. Even the most boisterous girl still wanted to look pretty.

Besides, she had known Uncle Amos, her uncle's good friend, since she was little. Compared with group training, studying under such a powerful and familiar mentor was clearly a better fit.

Amid their noisy back-and-forth, uncle and niece arrived at Amos's door.

"Honestly, you're just as stubborn as your father. No matter what I say, you won't listen. Hunter training is very tough, you know. If you ever find it too hard...

"Hayata, are you sure you won't reconsider? Why don't we have you learn painting instead? How about becoming an artist?"

Standing outside Amos's home, Pine turned around once more and rambled on.

Hayata rolled her eyes, stepped past Pine, and knocked on the front door.

The straight-line distance between Minegarde City and Kokoto Village wasn't particularly great, only about two hundred kilometers.

But the Schrade Region was hilly terrain packed with mountains. Straight-line distance and actual travel distance were entirely different things.

Gordon and Porkchop hitched a ride with a traveling merchant heading to Minegarde City to sell mountain goods. They spent nearly ten days on the road before Minegarde's towering walls finally appeared on the horizon.

As they drew closer, the walls grew increasingly imposing, and Gordon's mouth fell farther and farther open.

Over ten meters tall, the walls were built from enormous blocks of dark gray stone. A hundred years of wind and rain had failed to shake them in the slightest, instead lending them the enduring majesty of something that had weathered countless hardships.

Defensive installations and watchtowers lined the tops of the walls, which were wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side.

As one of humanity's most important coastal cities, Minegarde City had defenses strong enough to face either human armies or monsters.

The massive ballistae mounted on the walls required at least three people to operate properly. With the aid of eccentric wheels and winches, these engines of war, whose bow arms were made of composite steel, could launch heavy bolts as thick as an arm two hundred meters into the air.

Clearly, these terrifying weapons had never been designed with humans as their intended enemy. Their targets were monsters.

Within their optimal lethal range of a hundred meters, even a Flying Wyvern would suffer grievous wounds. And these were only the most basic weapons in Minegarde City's defensive arsenal.

There were movable cannon emplacements that fired enormous shells using gunpowder, as well as mysterious devices called Dragonators, hidden within the walls and powered by gigantic steam engines.

All of this was the foundation painstakingly built by generation after generation of Minegarde's pioneers, so their descendants could live safely in the danger-ridden Schrade Region.

Unfortunately, Gordon wasn't able to take in so many details just then.

His and Porkchop's attention had long since been captured by the endless stream of merchant caravans passing through the enormous gates, and the bustling crowds around them that all but shoved them forward.

Gordon could swear that all the people he had seen in his entire life combined were fewer than the people gathered at Minegarde City's gates right now.

After finally squeezing through the gates, Gordon couldn't stop turning his head this way and that.

He was a country bumpkin visiting a city for the first time anyway. What was there to be embarrassed about? Making no effort to hide his amazement and fascination, Gordon looked around as he walked, indulging his curiosity to his heart's content.

As he approached the thriving trade district, Gordon distinctly noticed more hunters brushing past him.

After all, Minegarde's Hunter Gathering Hall was nearby.

To the young hunter, those fellow hunters-or, more precisely, their equipment-were certainly more interesting than the dazzling goods on the market stalls or the wide variety of shops lining the streets.

"Whoa! Porkchop, look! That red armor is so cool! Those shoulder guards are huge and really stand out! It must be made from some kind of crustacean monster, right?"

"Aha, that armor looks like an iron barrel, but its defense looks pretty high!"

"Huh? Porkchop, look at that lady's equipment. There doesn't seem to be much fabric. Her belly's showing! Doesn't she get cold?"

Porkchop cautiously ducked his head, praying Gordon's rather impolite comments wouldn't catch the attention of the equipment's owners.

Thankfully, the guy had remembered to keep his voice down. Otherwise, he would probably have earned a tongue-lashing from a certain "lady with her belly showing."

This is goddamn lightweight gunner gear!

After spending ages wandering here and there, Gordon finally remembered, with the sun already beginning to set, what Instructor Ernest had repeatedly drilled into him before his departure.

The first thing he was supposed to do upon arriving in Minegarde was report to the Hunter Gathering Hall.

Fortunately, the Hunter Gathering Hall wasn't hard to find. After asking a random passerby, he soon arrived outside the enormous building at the center of the trade district.

Gazing at the wooden saloon doors, polished smooth and glossy by countless hands pushing against them, Gordon felt both excited and uneasy. For a moment, he stood rooted to the spot.

"What are you standing in the doorway for? Get inside!"

A hearty female voice, tinged with impatience, came from behind him. Gordon felt a hand push against his back and instinctively stumbled forward a few steps, passing through the Gathering Hub's doors.

Raucous laughter, the thuds of oak beer kegs hitting tables, and the receptionists' loud calls announcing orders washed over him all at once.

The sheer liveliness caught him off guard.

The scent of ale was strong enough to sting his nose. Rows of solid wooden tables filled the room, servers wove back and forth, and men and women were already drinking and shooting the breeze before night had even fallen.

Gordon's first impression of Minegarde Hunter Gathering Hall was that it looked more like a tavern than a place where hunters accepted quests.

"Oh, a new face I haven't seen before. Where are you from, kid?" The female hunter who had just pushed him through the entrance stepped around in front of him and looked him up and down with some curiosity.

Only then did Gordon notice that this female hunter in pink leather armor was the same "lady with her belly showing" he had seen on the street earlier.

She looked to be in her twenties, with healthy, wheat-colored skin and sharply defined muscles across her exposed abdomen. Her long, wavy black hair and the way she stood with her chest out and hands on her hips gave her a bold, spirited air.

With little experience talking to young women, Gordon seemed rather shy. He scratched the back of his head and said, "Hello, ma'am. I'm Gordon, from Kokoto Village."

The female hunter's mouth twitched sharply at his words.

Being called "ma'am" made her feel five years older than "sis" would have, and ten years older than "miss."

Well, that fucking pisses me off.

"What's this 'ma'am' business? How old are you, kid? Are you that much younger than me?" The female hunter folded her arms over her ample chest and lifted her chin, looking thoroughly offended and ready to pick a fight.

Porkchop shrank into a frightened ball. Gordon was at a loss too, and answered instinctively, "I-I'm seventeen this year?"

"Hahahahaha!"

A long-haired male hunter whose attention had been drawn by her loud voice burst out laughing when he heard that. "This young fellow's almost ten years younger than you, Oshura! He's being plenty respectful by not calling you auntie! Hahahaha!"