The night wind, carrying the briny tang of the sea, drifted over the distant beach.
A massive bonfire crackled and popped, its orange flames dancing across the faces of those gathered nearby.
"Growl?"
Lowering his head slightly, Mirrorblade's eyes shimmered with curiosity.
"The little boss asks, what was your grandfather's name, meow?" Kankan translated immediately. "Tell us more details, meow!"
"Caly." Karl scratched his head instinctively. Facing the collective gaze of everyone around him, he looked a bit restless. This was a far cry from the focus he felt in battle; he seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "He always said he had no talent—that he was the most thick-headed disciple the Sword Master ever had... He said that if Boss Asterion saw a sword technique just once, he could master it perfectly, but he had to practice the same move over and over for a long time... and sometimes, he never learned it at all."
This kid... maybe we should just turn him into soup.
Sophia couldn't help but feel embarrassed on behalf of Karl's grandfather. She picked up the notebook hanging from her waist only to put it back down, wanting to stop Karl but not knowing how to start. I mean, are you really being this honest?
Karl was recounting his own grandfather's past to a group of outsiders, and none of it sounded particularly positive or dignified. He showed absolutely no intention of "saving face" for his elder. Karl's tone was as flat as still water, straightforwardly airing out all the old dirty laundry like a completely neutral, emotionless chronicler.
One could only wonder how Caly would feel if he knew his precious grandson was out here broadcasting his old embarrassments. However, this clinical, unembellished style of narration made it much easier for Mirrorblade to understand exactly what had happened back then.
Even though Mirrorblade had heard some of these stories from the Sword Master before, it was strange—even though they were the same events, they felt completely different through Caly's eyes. Many of the details didn't align.
Today was likely the most Karl had spoken in his entire life. He took a heavy swig of beer to moisten his throat, closed his eyes to recall the bedtime stories he'd heard since childhood, and began telling them to Mirrorblade one by one.
He spoke of how the Sword Master first realized a monster was watching him from a distance outside Astera, to the day Boss Asterion suddenly showed up at his door and imitated a hunter's swordsmanship with a crisp, decisive Jump Slash. He described how the Sword Master eventually decided to treat that group of unskilled hunters and Asterion as equals, teaching them the way of the blade side-by-side...
Mirrorblade listened with intense focus, his original restlessness gradually calming. It really was different from the Sword Master's version. Caly had even summoned the courage to ask the young Asterion for technical advice—something the Sword Master never knew. So much time had passed that the aging hunter had likely forgotten many of the smaller details.
In contrast, because Karl's grandfather had returned to the Old World early, his heart remained full of endless nostalgia for the New World and his experiences there. Over the long years of repeating these memories to his descendants, they had been honed like a sharpened blade, kept crystal clear.
"Grandpa also talked about the Grand Solstice." Mentioning something that clearly piqued his own interest, Karl asked curiously, "Does that festival still exist?"
"It does... in a way, meow," Kankan said with a bit of a frown. "The tribes hold it every year, meow, but the Boss hasn't participated in a long time. It's definitely not the same as the one your grandpa went to, meow."
"I see." Karl nodded. "Grandpa said Boss Asterion really loved the meat he roasted. When he heard I was selected for the Research Commission, he specifically told me several times that I had to roast meat for Asterion once I reached the New World."
"Ahaha, well, that's..." Arron gave a dry laugh. "Given the current situation, that might be a bit difficult... we haven't seen Boss Asterion in quite a while."
The conversation was fascinating. Mirrorblade let out a happy purr. He had never imagined that his old man—who usually preferred to "speak" through his tail-blade and sheer brute force—had such a wondrous past in his youth. For the sake of the Glavenus's dignity, the Sword Master had certainly omitted many key details.
Honestly, it was almost cute. Mirrorblade briefly imagined his father rigidly following a human's lead in sword practice, occasionally getting grumpy and taking his frustration out on roadside boulders after being scolded by the Sword Master for a wrong swing. Yeah, that last part definitely sounds like something he'd do.
Ha, haha.
So, is this the origin of the Glavenus Sword Style I use now? Mirrorblade mused. He started by learning from humans, but after realizing a Glavenus's body structure couldn't build Spirit like a human hunter, he left in disappointment. But he didn't give up. Instead, he relied on his own wisdom to explore and refine it, eventually evolving it into a style perfectly suited for a Glavenus's unique anatomy—one with power delivery and Spirit techniques completely different from human swordsmanship.
At least, that's what the Sword Master had said after seeing Mirrorblade perform. It had become something entirely distinct from his own art.
You're amazing... Dad.
"...Grandpa also said that Boss Asterion didn't seem to like humans much from the very beginning," Karl's voice rose again, pulling Mirrorblade back to reality. "He seemed to prefer Grimalkynes. That's why, when he decided to leave, he chose to endure the pain of tearing off large chunks of his own healthy shell as payment for the lessons. From that day on, he never set foot near Astera again, nor did he ever get close to another human."
Speaking so much at once left Karl's throat dry. He downed another cup of beer, letting out a satisfied sigh.
So, the old man did try to get close to humans once? Mirrorblade thought silently. But he gave up in the end. Was it because he realized how unreliable humans are?
I thought he had never...
"Hehe, of course the Boss likes us best, meow!!" Hearing Karl's blunt praise, Kankan beamed with pride, puffing out his furry chest so hard even his whiskers twitched. "Your grandpa had great taste, meow! A true veteran hunter, meow!"
"True. Come to think of it, I prefer Felynes too." Irene smiled and reached out with both hands, scooping up the cream-colored Felyne licking its paws nearby and hugging it tight.
"Meow-ouch!!"
This cream-colored Felyne wasn't some rookie; she was a certified Prowler. She hadn't boarded the Fifth Fleet ship as Karl's sub-species pet, but as his genuine hunting partner.
And yet, this cool, professional Prowler was currently being turned into a puddle of mush by Irene's expert petting. She not only exposed her belly but also began purring uncontrollably, her eyes narrowing into slits of pure bliss.
"Too weak, meow," Kankan said, crossing his arms and looking at his distant relative with disdain. "Grimalkynes and Felynes are not the same thing, meow!"
"But when you get down to it, both Grimalkynes and Felynes are part of the Lynian race," Sophia interjected with a smile, holding a glass of juice. "Looking at it from that perspective, I can totally understand why Boss Asterion preferred Grimalkynes. Compared to the ever-changing, complex hearts of humans, Lynians are much more simple and reliable in character."
"Eh? Are you really going to talk about us like that?" Hearing this, Irene knocked her head in frustration. "I think I'm pretty reliable... and my heart isn't complex! I just like eating things!"
"Dummy, 'ever-changing hearts' refers to humanity as a whole, not any one specific person," Sophia explained helplessly.
"As for Irene, it would be best if she didn't always let her curiosity lead her to run off during missions, meow!" Karl's hunting partner was named Vanilla. Even though Irene's petting felt amazing, she still had her feline principles—which meant speaking the truth!
"I do not! I don't run off!" Being exposed in front of so many new friends—and an intelligent monster to boot—Irene's face turned beet red. She quickly turned to Karl. "Right?! Partner!!"
After a two-second pause... Karl remained silent, merely nodding his head repeatedly.
As her partner, this was the only support he could offer.
The Fifth Fleet's journey to the New World hadn't actually been smooth. Because the Elder Crossing hadn't occurred as predicted, their planned departure had been delayed repeatedly. However, these elite hunters, hand-picked by the Guild, didn't just sit around rotting while they waited. Using the bustling port cities as their base, they took on and completed quests in their assigned pairs to keep their skills sharp.
Because of this, after spending so much time together, they had already formed deep bonds and understood each other's temperaments and hunting styles perfectly.
"Growl?"
As the group laughed and joked, Mirrorblade suddenly turned to the smiling Sophia and let out a low rumble. Now that they were becoming more familiar with him, the Fifth Fleet hunters no longer reacted with a hair-trigger defensive reflex to Mirrorblade's sudden movements.
"The little boss is asking you something, meow," Kankan said, scratching his head. "Humans aren't simple or reliable, meow? Do humans think that about themselves too, meow?"
"Eh?" Startled for a moment, Sophia was surprised. She clearly hadn't expected a fierce monster at the top of the food chain like Mirrorblade to be intelligent enough to ponder such abstract questions.
"Well, how should I put it?" The Ace hunter, holding a full mug of beer, frowned and said with a look of distress, "It's a fact we can't really deny... compared to Lynians like Felynes, who are so simple-minded, human hearts are much more complicated. It's hard to summarize a person's entire being with just two or three words."
"Our numbers are vast, after all." As the Ace's Handler, Sophia quickly formulated an answer after her initial surprise. "In this world, as long as a population is large enough, it's hard to avoid having some people with wicked intentions."
"Fortunately, the Kingdom and the Guild have always worked hard to prevent these bad apples from affecting others' lives." Thinking of something, Sophia sighed softly. "This world is incredibly dangerous and full of crises. If we want to survive and thrive in the long run, we have to stay united and rely on the power of the collective."
But what if the world wasn't dangerous?
Almost the instant Sophia finished her philosophical speech on human survival, this sharp question jumped unbidden into the depths of Mirrorblade's mind. If one day the world is no longer dangerous to humans—if human weaponry develops to the point where they can easily defeat Large Monsters, explore nature at will, or even uncover the secrets of Elder Dragons—will they still stay so closely united?
Will that Kingdom or Guild still work to control the 'bad apples' to stop them from hurting others or doing wicked things?
Slap!
Dammit. Mirrorblade flicked his tail irritably. He felt he was being far too influenced by his father. Whenever he started thinking, or whenever things touched on these topics, his thoughts instinctively drifted in this direction.
"Mmm, Sophia is actually being a bit absolute, meow." Unaware of the brainstorming happening inside Mirrorblade's head, Vanilla reached out a paw and skillfully grabbed a large piece of sizzling, roasted bone-in meat, taking a bite. As a Lynian herself, she held a dissenting opinion. "There are bad cats among Lynians too, like the Melynx, meow."
"Melynx?" Kankan asked curiously. "Are they different from Felynes, meow? What do they look like, meow?"
"They look pretty much like us, meow, but they're all black-furred bad cats—thieves, meow! They love stealing more than anything, meow!" Recalling some unpleasant memory, Vanilla waved her bone around, venting her indignation. "There are even organized Melynx thieving troupes, meow! They've ruined the good reputation that Felynes worked so hard to build, meow!"
"Black-furred... bad cats?" Kankan's expression became a bit subtle. He looked down at his own belly, then at his paws.
Even though they had moved to the Ancient Forest, the Glavenus tribe was still primarily composed of black-furred Protectors from the Wildspire Waste.
"Ah, I don't mean all black cats are bad, meow!" Vanilla explained quickly. "Just the Melynx, meow! The rotten Melynx, meow!"
"It's okay, meow, I understand, meow," Kankan said, shaking his head. "If they like stealing... then they really are bad, meow."
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