The Legend of the Kokoto Hero

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Gordon tried to repeat her name in greeting, but his memory failed him. He opened his mouth, only to stand there at a loss.

Seeing Gordon's predicament, the Wyverian woman gave a reserved yet gracious smile. "You may call me Chairwoman, as everyone else in the gathering hall does."

Gordon breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello, Chairwoman. I'm Gordon, from Kokoto Village. I plan to stay in Minegarde for a while, and I hope you'll approve."

In front of this lady, whose distinguished status would have been obvious even to a blind man, Gordon wanted to speak a little more elegantly. But with so little schooling under his belt, this plain, straightforward delivery was the best he could manage.

"You're from Kokoto Village?" The Chairwoman's carefully groomed eyebrows rose slightly.

"Yes, that's right."

The Chairwoman looked toward Tiji, who was still dangling from Oshura's hand.

The female hunter hurriedly set Tiji down. As quickly as she could, Tiji gathered Gordon's Hunter's Notes and letter of introduction and handed them to the Chairwoman.

The Chairwoman first leafed through Gordon's Hunter's Notes. When she noticed his age and hunter rank, she glanced up at him, then remarked mildly, "Quite good."

For no particular reason, Gordon felt that this was already very high praise.

Next, the Chairwoman picked up the letter of introduction. Judging by the way her movements visibly softened, she attached considerable importance to it.

After reading the letter word by word, the Chairwoman folded it again, carefully and solemnly returned it to its envelope, then handed it back to Gordon.

"Keep this letter safe. You'll probably need it when you travel to other cities."

Seeing how seriously she treated it, Gordon couldn't help becoming more careful himself.

"Is your village chief in good health?" the Chairwoman suddenly asked.

Perhaps he was imagining it, but Gordon felt that her tone had grown a little gentler.

"Yes, the chief's always been pretty healthy. He just seems a little muddleheaded most of the time." As Gordon answered, he secretly speculated about their relationship.

Clearly, the Chairwoman knew the old village chief.

Had they once been lovers? No, no way.

Wyverians lived long lives, but they weren't supernatural creatures. The Chairwoman's age was difficult to judge, but she was middle-aged at most. There had to be at least one generation between her and the wizened village chief, perhaps even two.

An older relative? A senior colleague? Surely they weren't father and daughter?

The Chairwoman seemed to see through Gordon's whirlwind of speculation. A hint of helplessness flashed in her eyes behind her narrow lenses. "He is a highly respected elder, and a living legend besides.

"None of you know who he is?"

The question wasn't directed at Gordon alone. Yet even after Gordon, Oshura, and Tiji spent a good while exchanging looks, none of them had an answer.

Seeing this, the Chairwoman couldn't help sighing softly. "Young people these days..."

"He's the legendary man known as the Hero."

A middle-aged male hunter who happened to be passing nearby overheard their conversation and strode over.

He wore a set of high-grade armor that was predominantly jet-black. Its dark shells and scales clearly came from some kind of Flying Wyvern. Clusters of crimson spikes adorned the edges of the skirt armor and key areas such as the shoulders and elbows, lending the armor an aggressive air.

The equipment was called the Monoblos armor set.

As its name suggested, its crafting materials came from a powerful Flying Wyvern known as Monoblos. This terrifying desert creature bore the illustrious title of "Lone Knight of the Dunes."

"Oh, it's Amos."

"It's been a while, Sir Amos~."

Oshura and Tiji greeted the newcomer in turn. Gordon also took the initiative to nod at him in respect for a veteran.

The middle-aged hunter named Amos came over to them and glanced at Oshura with a frown. "It's one thing for those two not to know, since they never attended training camp, but how could you not know either?

"The instructors at camp must have told you the legend of the Kokoto Hero more than once, right?"

Oshura gave an embarrassed grin. Back in training camp, she had slept through all her classroom lessons.

"You're from Kokoto Village, and you've never heard of him either?" Amos turned to Gordon in apparent disbelief.

Gordon's expression grew rather strange.

How should he put it? He had heard a little about the Hero of Kokoto, the "First Hunter." But wasn't that a fairy tale, the sort told to children at bedtime?

From what the Chairwoman and the others were saying, that hero was the old village chief?

"Before the profession of 'Monster Hunter' existed, humanity was utterly helpless against the attacks of powerful monsters.

"A vicious Monoblos attacked a village. At that moment, a mysterious Wyverian stepped forward. Armed with an iron sword and shield, he fought the monster for seven days and seven nights, finally slaying it.

"He was the Hero of Kokoto, and the world's first hunter."

With a tone full of respect and yearning, Amos recited the story that had been familiar to everyone in his childhood, and in the years before it.

It was hard to say that his choice to wear Monoblos armor now hadn't been influenced by that story.

The Chairwoman picked up where Amos had left off. "The Hero's deeds inspired people. Monsters were no longer invincible terrors.

"Together with four like-minded companions, he founded the Hunter's Guild, laying the foundations of the 'Monster Hunter' profession.

"Sadly, during a battle to slay a mysterious monster, one of his companions, who was also his fiancée, lost her life.

"The Hero retired as a result, and the rule limiting hunting parties to four members was passed down from that tragedy. In those dark times before the dawn..."

As one epic tale followed another, Gordon listened with his mouth slightly open, almost drooling. Some of these stories he had heard before, while others were entirely new to him.

But no matter how he looked at it, he simply couldn't connect that legendary "Hero," a man embodying courage, strength, wisdom, leadership, and tragedy, with the old fellow at the village entrance who spent all day going, "Hmm?" "Hiya~!" and "Ho ho!"

"Are all these legends true?"

"Of course they're true." The Chairwoman gave him a puzzled look. "The Kokoto Hero's actual experiences were only more perilous and more magnificent than the legends.

"Isn't the weapon the Hero once wielded-the Hero's Sword-still embedded in a stone pedestal in the hills behind Kokoto Village, waiting for a successor?"

"Indeed. Twenty years ago, when I was young and traveling the world, I even made a special pilgrimage to Kokoto Village." Amos's voice was filled with emotion and nostalgia.

"Even knowing we weren't worthy, who among us never dreamed of it, never tried, never hoped to draw that Hero's Sword, stained reddish-brown by dragon blood, and become the next 'Hero'?"

Gordon closed his mouth and held his face rigid, doing his best to keep his expression from betraying anything.

If I told them now that, when I was little, I'd pissed on that horribly rusty iron sword and pulled it out, only to find that it couldn't even cut through a branch, so I'd stuck it back in...

They'd beat me to death, wouldn't they?