The Gendrome was panting heavily.
Its head, neck, and chest were covered in wounds. Perhaps none were deep enough to be fatal in a single blow, and many were shallow enough that they could begin to heal after a good night's sleep.
But every wound was bleeding incessantly. The cumulative blood loss had left the Gendrome extremely weak. Its movements were much slower than usual, and even its steps had become unsteady.
Even so, Altaïr, who was circling nearby, kept his shield raised, not letting his guard down for a moment.
Countless hunters had been killed by the desperate counterattacks of Monsters they'd carelessly assumed were weakened.
He had systematically cleared out the Genprey, constantly eliminating unforeseen variables and steadily progressing the hunt to this point. He would absolutely not give his opponent a chance to turn the tables.
Perhaps one more Perfect Rush or a Demon Dance would be enough to finish off the weakened Gendrome, but Altaïr had no intention of launching another attack.
He planned to stick to his target like a plaster until it bled to death.
This would minimize the risk, but more importantly, the Gendrome already had enough wounds on its body.
He still wanted to carve as many materials as possible.
As the Monster fled and the hunter pursued, they passed through a canyon between two rock faces. A flash of light suddenly appeared in the corner of Altaïr's vision. He spared a sliver of his attention and glanced over.
It was Sajji, reflecting the sunlight with the bright surface of his F Hunting Knife. Having received the signal, Altaïr raised his shield slightly to show he had gotten the message.
He slowed his pace a little, putting about twenty meters between himself and the Gendrome.
He couldn't press it too hard, but he also couldn't let the Gendrome run wild. It would be best if it continued to slowly move forward, just as he hoped.
But this unusual behavior made the Gendrome sense that something was wrong. Its forward steps became hesitant, as if it was debating whether to keep going or to turn around and launch a final counterattack with what little stamina it had left.
Altaïr couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. It seemed impossible to make the Gendrome obey with such a "gentle" approach.
He abruptly banged his Carving Knife against his shield a few times, creating a harsh metallic clang. Then, he yelled and charged forward, putting on a ferocious display as if to say, 'I'm going to kill you right now!'
The Gendrome, which had still been hesitating, shuddered in fright. It subconsciously quickened its pace and broke into a run, completely failing to notice that the color of the ground at the end of the passage was slightly off.
The moment it stepped onto that patch of earth, the ground collapsed into a large pit. At the same time, a large net woven from spiderwebs and tough vines (ivy) sprang up, wrapping tightly around its body.
The Pitfall Trap Sajji had set was a success!
The Gendrome struggled desperately. It probably wouldn't take long for it to break free from the net and escape the trap.
But the hunter and his Palico clearly weren't going to give it that chance.
Sajji ran over holding a large bag of powder and, with a whoosh, dumped the entire contents onto the Gendrome's head.
"Go to sleep, meow!"
This was Tranquilizer, crafted from Sleep Herb and Parashrooms. Normally, the proper way to use it was to load it into hollow Bomb Casings to create Tranq Bombs, or into Bowgun Ammo to make Tranq Ammo, maximizing its efficiency.
But with limited resources at hand, Sajji couldn't be bothered. Instead of wasting effort fiddling with Bomb Casings, he decided it was better to just make more Tranquilizer and up the dosage!
His choice was undoubtedly the correct one. Having inhaled an excessive amount of Tranquilizer while struggling, the Gendrome passed out in an extremely short amount of time.
"Capture successful, meow!" Sajji leaped up in excitement.
Altaïr walked over and ruffled the fur on his head. "Nice work. I'll bleed it out. Get ready for carving."
"Meow?" Sajji tilted his head. "Since we captured it successfully, shouldn't we consider shipping it back, meow? The Guild will give us a bigger reward, meow."
"No need. The Sandship we took to get here can't fit it, and we'd have to find a special transport team to move it. It's just a Gendrome; it's not necessary."
At this, Altaïr paused for a few seconds, his voice growing softer. "Besides, I have other uses for it."
Sajji blinked. "Okay, meow. I'll listen to you, meow."
This was an oasis on the verge of being swallowed by the desert.
Around the long-abandoned village, withered and broken skeletons were scattered everywhere.
At the center of the ruined village's remains lay a particularly massive skeleton. The huge, curved horns connected to its skull pointed straight to the sky like two flagpoles.
Impaled on the tip of one of the great horns was the head of a Gendrome.
As the sandy wind blew through the holes in the skeleton, it created a soft, whimpering sound, slowly air-drying the bloodstained head.
—--
Loc Lac, guild hall tavern.
"To celebrate little brother Altaïr's successful promotion to 2★, cheers!" Resha raised her tankard high and shouted.
"Cheers!"
"Meow!"
Several tankards clinked together, sloshing some of the golden liquid within.
"Ha! I really didn't expect you to get promoted to 2★ so quickly." Downing the ale in his tankard in one go, Nuri slammed it on the table and said with a loud laugh.
Asa, unable to keep his mouth shut, quickly chimed in, "I know, right! I'm still slowly climbing through 1★, how are you already at 2★ like the big bro?"
"Isn't that because you're too useless?" Resha retorted mercilessly. "Look at how many quests little brother Altaïr has done these past few months, and then look at how many you've done. If you spent half the time you use running your mouth on training, you'd probably be getting ready for your promotion by now too!"
"So harsh," Asa chuckled, but he didn't argue.
Although he spoke without thinking and often annoyed people, he had one good quality: he was good-natured and never took what others said about him to heart.
"You're not drinking, meow?" Sajji asked Altaïr, holding a cup of green Felvine wine.
The latter was staring blankly at the tankard in his hands. It wasn't until the gazes of the others shifted to him that he snapped out of it and quickly raised the tankard to his lips, taking a large gulp.
"Cough, cough."
The taste was completely different from what he had imagined. The unique bitterness of the ale hit him, and Altaïr choked, breaking into a coughing fit.
After coughing for a good while, he looked up to meet the strange looks of the three people and one cat, and said with some embarrassment, "This is my first time drinking."
"Huh?"
"No way? I started drinking with my old man when I was thirteen or fourteen, and my older brother started even earlier, I think."
"Meow!"
"Come to think of it, I really haven't seen young Altaïr drink before," Nuri said, stroking his chin. "I just thought you were disciplined, or that you didn't like to drink."
"My master didn't allow me to drink before," Altaïr explained simply. "But it's fine now. Should I drink more often to get used to the taste sooner?"
"No, no need... hic!" Resha let out a drunken hiccup, waving her hand. "Being a drinker is nothing to brag about. There's no need to force yourself to get used to it. Oh, right! There was something I almost forgot to tell you. The Workshop's Shopkeeper asked me to pass on a message. She said all the workshops in the city will be very busy from this month through the next, so it'll probably be a while before they can craft your Gendrome materials into gear."
"I understand. I'm not in a hurry," Altaïr said, taking another small sip and trying to appreciate the subtle bitterness.
"The monsoon season is almost here, so the number of tourists and merchants in the city is increasing, and the annual Autumn Harvest Fest is coming up soon too."