Chapter Thirty-Five: Elite Hunter

For the past two days, Oran had been lingering in the Sandship Fleet’s dockyard. To put it politely, he was familiarizing himself with the vessels; to put it bluntly, he was doing odd jobs.

According to Asa, sandships were like sickly children—if not cared for properly, they would face major issues when put to use. Fortunately, small sandships were simple in construction. Unlike the massive Dragon-Piercing Ship, the Mohran, they did not require complex maintenance and could be handled by ordinary craftsmen.

To improve the performance of these small sandships, the fleet had even allocated a portion of their Yukumo wood quota to them. This wood possessed strength comparable to steel while remaining remarkably lightweight. Hunters in its region of origin even used it to craft weapons; it was considered the finest shipbuilding material available.

However, due to the vast distance between the two regions and the exorbitant transport costs, the price of this wood became astronomical by the time it reached Loc Lac. Except for organizations like the Sandship Fleet, which had specialized combat needs and dedicated funding from the local Guild, few others used such material for ship repairs—it would be a complete waste of resources.

As Oran handled the Yukumo wood, his mood turned subtle. As the name suggested, the wood came from Yukumo Village in the Western Continent—his mentor’s hometown, said to be a hot spring resort where spring reigned all year round. After leaving Loc Lac, his mentor must have returned home, he figured. He wondered how she had been doing lately.

The rhythmic "clack-clack" of hammers ceased, and the craftsman’s voice echoed from within the ship’s hold. "Could you lend a hand with these planks?"

Startled from his thoughts, Oran quickly picked up the stacks of Yukumo planks and carefully passed them over.

"Thanks!" The hammering resumed.

Just as Oran was about to drift off again, Asa walked over, carrying a bundle of ballista bolts. He shouted in his booming voice, "How’s our little darling coming along?"

The busy craftsman had no time for him. It was only after a long while, once the final plank had been nailed into place, that the man crawled out from the hold of the small sandship.

"That’s about it. The cracked planks on the hull have been replaced, and the base for the ballista has been reinforced. This way, even if the ship starts to fall apart, you won't have to worry about the ballista being ripped off."

"Hey! Don't say such unlucky things! If the ship really falls apart, we’ll come looking for you from the afterlife to settle the score!"

After thanking and apologizing to the craftsman as he departed, Oran cast a helpless glare at Asa. There was no saving that man’s loose tongue, so he didn't bother arguing.

Looking at the bundle in Asa’s arms—heavy, solid-steel bolts as thick as eggs, looking more like harpoons than arrows—Oran’s curiosity was piqued.

"Those are for the heavy ballistae, right? And the base you mentioned... do small sandships carry ballistae too? I thought only the Mohran was equipped with such heavy weaponry."

"Heavy weaponry? No, no, no." Asa set the heavy bundle into the hold with Oran’s help, then stretched his arms. "In front of a Jhen Mohran, only the large cannons and the Dragonator could barely be called heavy weapons. As for the ballistae, they’re no different than toothpicks to a beast like that.

"Small sandships are equipped with them primarily to fire restraint shells, which tether the ship to the Jhen Mohran to slow it down. Besides that, the combatants responsible for boarding the dragon will climb along the restraint ropes onto its back to deal damage. It’s dangerous, but it’s also a chance to make a fortune!"

Asa winked at Oran, wearing an expression that practically screamed, "Ask me how!"

Although Oran already knew a bit about the "fortune" Asa spoke of, he decided to play along for the sake of his companion’s mood. "So, how exactly does one make a fortune?"

"Heh, let me break it down for you!" Asa pulled Oran down to sit on the gunwale. "According to the veterans in the fleet, the Jhen Mohran loves to consume minerals from the sand sea. Some minerals it can't digest are excreted like sweat, condensing into a special type of ore in the glands on its back. This ore is incredibly precious. Many merchants come to Loc Lac during the Harvest Festival specifically for it. If you can collect a few pieces, you’ll be rich!"

Hearing this, Oran couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement. He wasn't short on money—his mentor had left him a significant sum before leaving, and he had saved quite a bit from his frequent quests over the last few months. But what hunter could resist the allure of high-grade materials?

"Don't listen to this guy. The Jhen Mohran is... well, it’s not an ordinary monster. If you go into battle with your head full of thoughts about money, you’ll easily lose focus and end up in trouble."

A strange male voice interrupted. Walking toward them was a young hunter with simple, short brown hair, appearing to be in his twenties.

Oran’s gaze involuntarily drifted to the hunter’s armor. A Rathian set—high-grade gear meticulously crafted from the materials of a Rathian. Its performance was far beyond the Guild Bard set Oran was currently wearing, or even the Iodrome set he hadn't yet managed to acquire. Due to the Guild’s strict regulations, hunters were only permitted to craft equipment from monsters they had personally hunted.

This meant that the young hunter before him, who looked only five or six years his senior, had successfully hunted a Rathian, the creature known as the "Queen of the Land."

"Brother Sel!"

Asa hopped off the gunwale with a grin and walked over to the young hunter, enthusiastically introducing them. "This is Brother Sel, the partner I told you about, a true four-star hunter! And this here is my good brother from the Guild Bard corps, Oran. Don't let his age fool you—he’s incredibly talented. He only just turned seventeen two months ago, and he’s already a two-star hunter!"

Oran and the hunter named Sel simultaneously reached out to shake hands. Suddenly, Oran felt a tug, and their shoulders were pulled together for a brief embrace, with the other man giving him a few pats on the back.

Oran was momentarily stunned. That much enthusiasm on a first meeting? The senior didn't seem like the type to be particularly boisterous.

After they separated, noticing the expression on Oran’s face, Sel looked a bit puzzled and turned to ask Asa, "The desert customs you told me about—this was the right way to do it, right?"

"Y-yeah, that’s right..." Asa was struggling to contain his laughter.

Oran realized immediately that Asa was playing a prank again. He explained with a touch of apology, "Actually, there’s nothing wrong with it. The hug and the cheek-to-cheek greeting are common daily salutations in Loc Lac. But the handshake was introduced from the outside; it’s a broader, more universal etiquette. When meeting a stranger for the first time, we often use the handshake to avoid making them feel awkward or uncomfortable. It was just a surprise to have it turn into a hug halfway through."

"I see..."

Sel didn't take offense at Asa’s prank. He scratched the back of his head. "As long as I didn't do anything rude that made you uncomfortable, that’s all that matters."

Oran was internally surprised. The man was older than both him and Asa, and being a four-star hunter in his twenties was an achievement worthy of admiration. He was a genuine elite, and it would have been perfectly normal for him to be proud or aloof. Yet, this senior seemed to have a great personality. His initial words showed he was a steady person, but he wasn't overly rigid. He seemed like someone who would be very pleasant to work with.

Oran’s favorable impression of the senior increased significantly.

"By the way, Brother Sel, why did you suddenly come to the docks?" Asa asked. "You’re a hunter sent by the Guild for support; you don't need to help with the maintenance."

Sel looked uncertain. "But isn't today the day for joint training exercises? Perhaps I remembered wrong?"

Was that the case? Oran looked at Asa with confusion.

The latter opened his mouth, then sighed. "Ah, sorry. I was so focused on fixing the ship, I forgot to tell you..."