The sun shined brightly on Val Habar. It was a pleasant, gentle sun, much unlike the blistering heat that was the daytime dunes. It was too bad HametZ was too busy with... other things, otherwise he wouldn't have missed the beauty of the day.

What was HametZ doing?

HametZ was merely carrying out what he believed was right. Being a passionate individual, he was not swayed from his mission in the slightest.

He had found a nonbeliever in a passing hunter, who caught his ear. What blasphemy he heard!

"Hot dang, that Gore Magala is a real pain in the neck! I couldn't even find a second to sharpen my knives without him trampling me."

"Him?" HametZ echoed strenuously. The fellow hunter paused to look at him strangely.

"Yeah. I said 'him'. Gotta problem with it?"

"I'll have you know I do. Don't you know every Gore is a female?"

"No they aren't."

"Ha! And you call yourself a hunter? Every hunter is supposed to know the monster like the back of their hand; knowing is half the battle. Allow me to enlighten you, fledgling: in an ancient human language, 'Gore' means 'hussy', which would make Gore a she."

The accused greenhorn scoffed at HametZ's enlightened claim, ruffling his dirty orange locks with his stubby fingers.

"Sounds like a load of Jaggi droppings to me. You tryin' to pick a fight? All you have to do is ask instead of coming up with these stupid stories. The Gathering Hall's right down the street. Let's arm wrestle like men."

At his feet, HametZ's helper, Jina, shadowboxed passionately.

"Mewahaha! Meowster demewlished his compurrtition last meownth! You're meowing up the wrong tree, bucko."

"You deny like a fool," HametZ continued, ignoring the stranger's proposal. "If there's anyone who knows more about monsters than anyone, it's the Guildmarm. She told me that little tale and I have no reason to doubt her."

"The Guildmarm? At the caravan? Ha! That gal would date a monster rather than a man if it were legal. She's nuts."

But at that moment, everything went silent. The crowd around him... Gone. The hustle and bustle of Gargwas towing carts... Gone. The obnoxious heretic in front of him... Gone.

Before him, he witnessed a heavenly sight: a woman! But not just any woman... the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen. She glowed beneath the sunlight, basking in it as she pleased... as though it were her own! Merely catching eye of her stole more breath from him than a frenzied Tigrex.

He didn't care about that silly argument anymore. More than anything, he longed, no, yearned to talk to her.

Wait...

Was she making her way closer to them?

And closer and closer and closer?

His heartbeat quickened...

Until she wrapped her arms affectionately around the foolish hunter with whom he'd been arguing. In an instant, HametZ's world shattered.

"Darling, I finished placing your order at the Wycoon's," she told the man. Oh... Her voice... It was softer than a lazy poogie's underbelly. It made HametZ melt in his armor.

"'Bout time. Where're my Caravan Points at?"

"D-Dear, I... I spent them at the Wycoon's like you told me. Ten orders of honey... Five orders of Bitterbugs... Three orders of-"

"Speakin' of hussies!" the man exclaimed suddenly. "Listen, you wench! I told you to pay for those with the Cathangea seeds, not the Caravan Points!"

HametZ could not believe what he heard. What gall that insolent fool had, talking down to such a majestic woman like he did. He suddenly felt much more tempted to take him down to the Gathering Hall and break his arm.

"That's no way to talk to a lady like her. You're lucky she gives you the time of day," HametZ injected. It was not his place, nor business, to butt in, but for that sweet, gentle woman... he'd gladly face the wrath of a Congalala's rear.

His words shocked the lady, who gasped and looked HametZ in the eyes. Well, the best she could see of his eyes through his helmet, at least.

"I-I..." She could not finish thanks to shock.

"What, you think she has feelings? Boy, she ain't nothing but a skill. Her name's Honed Blade. She's an item. A tool."

"How can you say that?"

"What a mewserable creature you are."

"Hmph. Truth's the truth, kiddo. Come on, woman, I got more stops to make." Without a word more, the insufferable man made his way further down the street, leaving HametZ and Jina in his wake. However, before she followed, Honed Blade, in all her grace and loveliness, flowed over to HametZ. She gifted him with a gentle, but shy, smile, and she planted a peck on the side of his helmet.

"You're very considerate, dear. If you... If you ever feel like going out to town with me... my father is The Man. I'm sure he'll let you have me for the day if you ask."

By candlelight, HametZ spent all night going through his chest, trying on armor after armor. Jina, who lay motionless on his bed for all those hours, meowed tiredly in response to all his questions.

"Okay, Jina, what do you think of this one?" he asked while flaunting his newest Basarios set.

Jina responded with a quick shake of the head.

"Too meownsterous, meow."

It took at least ten minutes for HametZ to remove his bulky gray armor, and it took another ten minutes to find his Brachydios set. Another ten minutes was dedicated to putting it on.

"And this?" His voiced was muffled by the helmet, which covered his face entirely. His voice pulled the cat out of a light sleep. Jina jumped seconds after laying her exhausted eyes on the newly-armored HametZ.

"M-Meowster! H-How furightening! Meow you just look like a meownster, and that's one scary meownster."

Sighing, HametZ began shedding the umpteenth suit of armor he had. It came as no surprise to find himself working up a sweat, which was assisted by the neighboring candle. As he swatted at some moisture gathering over his brow, he groaned.

"Last set..." He dug back into his box, where he found a curious discovery: his Chameleos set, which he had not used in a while. He couldn't believe he forgot about it. After all, it was once his favorite set!

In the mirror, he marveled upon his newest armor, turning every which way with far more exuberance than before. He lightly kicked the floor with the curled tip of his boot and turned back to his bed.

"This is it. This'll impress her for sure."

"It's too purrple, meow."

"Don't girls like purple?"

There was only one way to find out.

The next day, which suffered from a sun that was more hostile than the day before's, HametZ and Jina prodded their way up to the smithy. Little Miss Forge greeted him with a swift thumbs up, but The Man was less hospitable. He leaned forward on his stool, and he placed one of his hefty arms over his knee, acknowledging his presence with a quaint nod.

"Ho," he greeted in his deep voice. HametZ heard none of it, for his eyes and attention were stolen by she who stood at The Man's side: Honed Blade, who flushed and waved when their eyes met. His mask hid his face, so none could see that he too blushed. The Man noticed their exchange, which prompted him to clear his throat. "Heard you were thinking about taking Honed Blade out to town."

HametZ simply nodded, but Little Miss Forge gasped.

"Sir, it won't be easy to get her to go anywhere with you. Hone Blade is a shy gal if you catch my drift."

"Especially in that armor," The Man added. "You and her aren't going anywhere if you're wearing that."

HametZ felt his heart sink, but not too deep; hope was still his, for there was room for him to wedge his foot and continue the climb. He was going to scale that mountain, even if it killed him! For Honed Blade! Anything for Honed Blade!

"What would you rather me wear?"

"If you want Honed Blade, you need to get a mixed set."

"A mixed set?"

"That's what I said, kid. Going deaf?"

"I'm pretty sure I've heard the folks in the Elder Hall preach about how bad mixed sets are."

"Hm. Amateurs. I'll leave the judgment to you, but just remember: if you want Honed Blade, you have to wear the mixed set."

HametZ's smile dropped, and, with hesitation, he allowed his eyes to wander back up to Honed Blade. She watched intently with her hypnotic eyes, fanning herself to escape the heat. Oh, what a beautiful and kind soul she was... She was worth it.

"Fine..." HametZ sighed. "Tell me what materials I need..."

Later, stripped of Seltas and Rajang parts, HametZ finally slapped his zenny on the counter of one of Val Habar's many ice cream vendors. The entire time, he received strange looks from fellow customers and the vendor himself. Well, mostly from the vendor, whose brows were raised.

"Interesting armor you got there, hunter..." he muttered as he counted his newly acquired money. "It must've gotten you that pretty lady at your side, but it also must've taken away your ability to count. The cones're fourteen hundred, not thirteen hundred."

Flustered, HametZ's fingers quickly dove back into his satchel, where he only fished out fifty zenny more. At his side, his companion, Honed Blade, giggled.

"Oh dear. It doesn't look like you can afford them, darling..." she sounded.

"Don't worry," HametZ assured as he turned back to the vendor. "Just forget about the other cone. One for the lady, please."

"Whatever you like." The vendor returned to his work. One cone, the cone that was supposed to be HametZ's, was placed on a holder, but the other found a home in Honed Blade's delicate fingers. Delighted, she showered her gratitude on the hunter at her side as he took back his change.

Locked arm in arm, HametZ strolled down the street with Honed Blade. No, he didn't walk down the street; HametZ walked on the clouds. Happy, cotton candy clouds that were sweet enough to give an Altaroth diabetes with one bite. All was well with the world, even if he wore the silliest looking armor he'd ever seen. If it allowed him to link arms with Honed Blade everyday, he'd gladly call that suit of armor his favorite.

With her only free arm, Honed Blade kept the cone close to her face, and she continued to graze on her Halo flavored ice cream. When streams of orange crawled over her skinny fingers, HametZ cleared his throat.

"It'll melt if you don't eat it quick enough," he warned.

"But I can't just down it all in seconds like a slob," she responded. "This ice cream is exceptionally delicious, so that means it was meant to be savored. I want to enjoy every lick of it."

HametZ's chest swelled at the mere sound of her voice.

"That's Halo flavored ice cream for you. Halos are divine."

"What are Halos?"

"I don't know, but I can murder at least twenty of them."

"Oh my! How manly!"

As Honed Blade swung her arm with passion in response to HametZ's manly claim, her scoop of ice cream took its leave from her cone. Woefully, the clumsy woman watched as her Halo-y goodness descended to the dirty ground.

The ground was not what the ice cream hit, however. One may have thought it was HametZ that caught the ice cream, perhaps, but that person was a dummy. They were wrong. Who actually caught the ice cream was a stranger. To be more precise, it was the stranger's boot, upon which the orange glob splattered. Horrified, Honed Blade scrambled up to the stranger, prepared to offer her apologies.

As HametZ also readied his "oh my gosh, I'm so sorry about that"s, he paused when he realized he recognized the shade of gold that was the stranger's boot. It reflected the sunlight just like the exoskeleton of a Desert Seltas. He only recognized it because a Desert Seltas' hull reflected the sun very well. Too well. It was blinding. When he shielded his eyes with a palm and squinted, however, he could successfully make out the stranger's helmet. The sight brought a smile to his face.

The stranger was no stranger at all: it was Ambrose, a close friend of his. HametZ's life was an absolute mess before Ambrose came along, and a passion for hunting many monsters bonded them to the friendship they shared to that very day. Like usual, Ambrose was found with his favorite girlfriend: the large-hipped Wide Gunlance. Yes, Ambrose had a favorite girlfriend. That was because he had two other girlfriends: Normal Gunlance and Long Gunlance. A real player, that man. Many times, HametZ suggested that Ambrose settled down with Wide Gunlance, but, also many times, Ambrose never listened. That maniac...

Thankfully, Ambrose was a sympathetic man; seconds into Honed Blade's series of apologies, he held up his hand and cleared his throat.

"Hey, hey, don't worry about it. I have a housekeeper that'll get that cleaned up."

"B-But stranger, I'm so sorry! Your armor looks so expensive and I'd hate to mess it up!"

"Honestly, it's not that expensive of equipment. It's only Rare Nine armor, and the defense only gets up to seven hundred forty. I sure wish the developers would fix that and give Seltas Z the defense it deserves (wink wink, Capcom)." When he noticed him, Ambrose gave HametZ a nod. "How're you doing, fren?"

HametZ, with a smile, nodded back.

"Pretty good. I was lucky enough to have this fine lady come with me. Her name's Honed Blade. How's Wide Gunlance?"

"Giiiiirl, this Honed Blade?" started Wide Gunlance, tone drenched with sass. "We about to throw some hands."

Honed Blade was surprised to be presented with such hostility, but when she whispered Wide Gunlance's name, HametZ saw a spark ignite in his eyes. When the two girls locked eyes, both HametZ and Ambrose slowly stepped away from them, uneasy.

"Um..." HametZ leaned in to his friend. "What's going on here? Do they know each other?"

"Uh-oh. I know what's going on..." Ambrose eased further away from them, beckoning HametZ to follow. "So, she's Honed Blade, right?"

"Right."

"And she's Wide Gunlance... Wide Gunlance and Honed Blade don't get along very well since... um, you know, Wide Gunlance mostly likes to shell. Neither of them have any use for the other."

"There're not about to fight, are they?"

"Yep. Start runnin'."

HametZ took his friend's advice. Right before sparks and flames flew, the two sprinted down the road, desperate not to suffer the wrath of two angry women.

So much for that date with Honed Blade.