During Gordon's recovery, his instructor, Ernest, had been pondering one thing: it was time for the young hunter to change his weapon.
Ernest had known for a while that the Sword and Shield didn't suit Gordon. So why had he insisted on it as Gordon's training weapon?
Simply because, for a novice hunter still in training, the Sword and Shield was the best weapon for survival—that small, lightweight shield was just too useful.
In reality, the Hunter's Guild had over a dozen weapon types with well-established systems.
Ranged weapons like Light and Heavy Bowguns, as well as Bows, were out of the question. Not only did Ernest lack the expertise to teach them, but Gordon had also made it clear early on that he had no interest in ranged combat. For him, close-quarters combat was where the real thrill lay.
As for melee weapons:
The Sword and Shield, Dual Blades, and Longsword leaned toward agility, requiring hunters to strike quickly and precisely.
Lances and Gunlances were more defensive, emphasizing steady, methodical combat, often requiring team coordination.
Greatswords and Hammers were all about raw power, delivering decisive blows.
The Hunting Horn? No, Gordon was tone-deaf and had no musical talent whatsoever.
As for the Insect Glaive, Switch Axe, and the still-experimental Charge Blade, which had only been developed in the last couple of years, they were clearly unsuitable for a novice.
So, what was Gordon's greatest strength? Without a doubt, it was his raw power.
Ernest had never doubted this.
What kind of teenager used millstones for strength training? Ernest had only ever seen Gordon do it. The phrase "born with immense strength" wasn't an exaggeration for Gordon—it was a fact.
Who else could pick up a hundred-kilogram tusk and bludgeon a Bulldrome to death?
Coupled with Gordon's towering frame—over 180 centimeters and still growing—the weapons that theoretically suited him best were the Greatsword, Hammer, Lance, and Gunlance.
These were heavy weapons that required strength to wield effectively.
The final choice, however, would depend on Gordon's own preferences.
When Ernest found Gordon, the young hunter was in the middle of his recovery training.
Ernest had always been pleased with Gordon's diligence. Talent alone was useless without hard work, and only through relentless effort could one reach the pinnacle of their craft.
"Gordon, first of all, congratulations again. By completing your trial, you've officially become a hunter."
Gordon's face lit up with excitement, but Ernest raised a hand to stop him from speaking.
"You've probably noticed by now, but the Sword and Shield doesn't suit you. It doesn't fully utilize your physique and strength."
Gordon nodded, a bit dazed.
He had grown attached to his Hunter's Knife. Even the shattered fragments from his battle with the Bulldrome had been carefully collected as mementos.
But during the fight, he had indeed felt that awkward sense of not being able to fully exert his strength.
"In my experience, the Lance, Gunlance, Greatsword, and Hammer are the most suitable for you. They'll allow you to make the most of your strength.
Of course, this is just my opinion.
The choice of weapon will shape your entire hunting career, so the final decision must be yours."
Ernest's serious expression made Gordon straighten up.
"Instructor Ernest, I've thought about this too, but I've never used any weapon other than the Sword and Shield. How can I decide?"
Ernest nodded, crossing his arms. "Follow me. We're going to the training grounds."
The training grounds were nothing more than a clearing with a few thick wooden posts, located on a hill not far from the village.
For Kokoto Village's only apprentice hunter—well, former apprentice hunter—having such a space for training was already a luxury.
The weapon rack in the training grounds held an assortment of weapons.
These were crude iron training tools, unsharpened and unremarkable except for their durability.
On the way, after hearing Ernest's detailed explanations and analysis, Gordon narrowed his options down to four weapons:
Longsword, Dual Blades, Greatsword, and Hammer.
The Lance and Gunlance, which might have been more suitable, were quickly ruled out. Their defensive, methodical style didn't align with Gordon's aggressive nature.
He preferred to take the fight to the enemy.
Gordon first picked up the Dual Blades, swinging them wildly a few times and nearly taking his own head off. He sheepishly put them down.
This wasn't just a matter of skill. Using Dual Blades required exceptional coordination and flexibility. The core of their technique, the "Demon Dance," involved delivering dozens of strikes in rapid succession.
For someone like Gordon, who struggled to even touch his back with his hands, this was nearly impossible.
Dual Blades: eliminated.
Next, he picked up the Longsword.
This weapon, as tall as a person, wasn't particularly heavy but had a unique sense of power when swung. It was swift and precise yet still agile. Gordon was intrigued.
At the very least, it felt more comfortable than the Sword and Shield.
Longsword: tentative choice.
The third weapon he tried was the Hammer.
To be honest, he wasn't fond of the Hammer's design. It felt a bit clumsy to him. But he had a soft spot for it, largely because Ernest's weapon of choice was the Hammer.
He swung it, smashed it down, then grabbed the handle and spun around like a whirlwind before placing it back on the rack.
It was powerful, but it didn't feel as natural as the Longsword. If he had to choose between the two, he'd go with the Longsword.
Finally, he tried the Greatsword.
The moment he picked it up, he instinctively lifted it with both hands.
The weight and solidity of the weapon reminded him of the massive tusk he had wielded.
The Greatsword was slightly shorter than the Longsword but much thicker and heavier. For others, the extra weight might have been a burden.
But for Gordon, it felt reassuring.
Without any guidance, he stepped forward with his left foot, rested the Greatsword on his right shoulder, and shifted his weight back into a "ready" stance.
As he held this position, an indescribable force gathered within him, building until it demanded release.
"Haaah!"
He stepped forward with his right foot, and the heavy Greatsword, driven by that force, came down with a momentum that seemed capable of cleaving through anything. The wooden weapon rack in front of him was reduced to splinters.
"Uh, Instructor, I'm sorry! I'll fix it!" Gordon wasn't sure why he'd destroyed the rack, but Ernest didn't seem angry.
In fact, he looked pleased, even excited.
"It's fine," Ernest said with a wave. "Do you still want to try the Longsword?"
"No, I'll take the Greatsword!" Gordon grinned. He loved the weight of the weapon and the feeling of unstoppable power it gave him.
Somehow, after holding the Greatsword, any other weapon just felt wrong.
"Uh, Instructor, can I borrow this Greatsword for now?" Gordon asked shamelessly. "You know, my Hunter's Knife is broken, and I don't have another weapon..."
"No!" Ernest's expression turned stern.
"As a hunter, there are principles that must never be broken.
One of them is that a hunter's weapons and armor must be crafted from materials they've obtained themselves. Lending or gifting weapons and materials is strictly forbidden!"
Ernest paused, his expression softening slightly. He explained, "This rule isn't a restriction—it's a form of protection.
A hunter's strength can be divided into two parts: 'personal skill' and 'equipment.' Lacking the latter might lead to a failed hunt, but lacking the former could cost you your life. Do you understand what I mean?"
Gordon nodded thoughtfully.
With Ernest's skill and equipment, he stood a chance against a Wyvern.
If Ernest were to wear Gordon's gear, he might not be able to kill a Wyvern, but he could at least survive.
On the other hand, if Gordon were to wear Ernest's gear and attempt to hunt a Wyvern, he'd almost certainly never return.
This principle of self-reliance was in place to prevent hunters from cutting corners and ultimately paying with their lives.
"I understand. So, Instructor, with the materials I have now, what kind of Greatsword can I craft?" Having grasped the reasoning, Gordon stopped fixating on the training Greatsword and turned his attention to the materials he already possessed.
"If I recall correctly, you have Iron Ore and Earth Crystals among your mineral materials, right?"
Though phrased as a question, Ernest's tone was certain. He had kept a close eye on Gordon's activities over the past two years.
"Yeah, that's right!"
Ironically, Gordon himself wasn't entirely sure what was in his storage box at home, but Ernest seemed to know better.
"A large amount of Iron Ore and Earth Crystals, combined with a special mineral called Ice Crystal from the Snowy Mountains, can be used to forge a steel Greatsword known as the 'Blast Blade.'
This Greatsword is durable, with a green sharpness level that's more than sufficient. It'll serve you well up to the three-star hunter rank.
In fact, it's a weapon many Greatsword users choose to craft early in their careers."
Gordon's expression turned complicated.
He naturally wanted the Blast Blade, but wanting it wasn't enough. He was missing the key ingredient: Ice Crystal.
Ernest's lips curled into a rare smile. "Of all the materials used to craft weapons and armor, mineral materials are the only ones allowed to be traded.
Of course, there are restrictions on the types of minerals. As a one-star hunter, you're only permitted to purchase the most common varieties.
Ice Crystal happens to be one of them, and I have some on hand. The material grade doesn't exceed the limit, either."
Gordon's face lit up with joy.
The Guild's policy of allowing mineral trading was a thoughtful one.
After all, mineral materials were generally easy to obtain—just grab a pickaxe and start mining. However, their availability was heavily region-dependent.
It wouldn't make sense to force someone to trek across half the continent to the Snowy Mountains just to mine a few worthless rocks, would it?
That would be pure torture.
Gordon was a man of action. Once he made a decision, he followed through immediately.
Gathering the Iron Ore and Earth Crystals he'd accumulated over the past two years, along with the Ice Crystal provided by Ernest, Gordon headed to the forge.
After speaking with the blacksmith, he learned that even with all the materials provided, the crafting fee for the Blast Blade alone would cost over 2,000z—nearly 3,000z.
That was more than ten times the cost of a regular weapon.
This single order wiped out all the savings Gordon had accumulated over the past two years. If Ernest hadn't agreed to let him owe the cost of the Ice Crystal, Gordon wouldn't have been able to afford the Greatsword at all.
In a single day, he went from having savings to being broke. Yet, he didn't regret it for a second.
As he watched the forge's furnace glow with the heat of Coal, Gordon's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Crafting a hunter's weapon from raw mineral materials took more time than forging a regular sword.
The blacksmith estimated four days. In four days, Gordon would have his dream weapon.
But he wasn't about to waste those four days.
Switching weapons wasn't as simple as just picking up a new one. Even though Gordon and the Greatsword were a good match, there was still a lot he needed to learn.
The proper stance for wielding a Greatsword, how to chain attacks, how to draw and sheathe quickly, how to use the Greatsword to block, how to roll and dodge while holding it...
Fortunately, Ernest had used a Greatsword in his younger days and could teach Gordon the basics.
If Gordon had chosen something like Dual Blades or a Gunlance, he'd have had to travel to Minegarde or even Dundorma to find a proper instructor.
Days passed quickly as Gordon immersed himself in training.
The Greatsword's moveset, focused on raw power, wasn't overly complex. However, it demanded exceptional physical strength and stamina. With these qualities already in place, Gordon progressed rapidly. In just a few days, he had mastered the basics of wielding the heavy weapon.
What he needed now was experience to develop his own fighting style.
According to Ernest, the Greatsword's core technique, the "Charge Slash," had advanced variations known as the "Strong Charge Slash" and the "True Charge Slash."
These were high-level techniques that only the most skilled and physically powerful Greatsword users could master.
For now, Gordon didn't need to worry about them. He wasn't ready, and he couldn't handle them yet.
What Ernest didn't realize was that Gordon had already etched the names of those techniques into his mind.
Becoming a high-rank hunter was a prerequisite for learning the Strong Charge and True Charge Slashes? Just wait—that day wouldn't be far off!
While Gordon was sweating it out in the training grounds, a small figure hopped off a cart and arrived at the entrance of Kokoto Village.
It was a Felyne.
Its fur was snow-white, with a golden patch on its nose and a golden oval on its belly, making it quite striking.
It looked around cautiously.
Clearly, this Felyne was visiting Kokoto Village for the first time—perhaps even its first time in a human settlement.
It carried a large bundle on its back, looking both confused and uneasy. The bundle was stuffed with what appeared to be some hard objects.
A bone "Cat Pick," commonly used by Felynes, hung diagonally across its back, adding a touch of bravery—or perhaps just making it even cuter?
The Felyne wandered into the village, looking for someone to ask for directions. The constant clanging of metal from the forge immediately caught its attention.
Due to their limited strength and other factors, Felynes had relatively low metallurgical skills. The sound of metal being hammered was quite novel to this Felyne, who hadn't had much contact with humans.
Tiptoeing up to a burly blacksmith who was busy at work, the Felyne timidly asked:
"Um, excuse me, is this Kokoto Village, meow?"
"Hmm?"
The muscular blacksmith looked down at the small Felyne. The glow from the red-hot steel on the anvil illuminated his rugged, bearded face.
To the Felyne, the blacksmith, with his hammer raised amidst the flying sparks, looked like a demon straight out of hell.
"T-ten thousand apologies, meow! Please spare me, meow!"
The Felyne's fur stood on end like a porcupine's. It bowed deeply, then turned and scampered away on all fours.
"Huh? Is my face really that scary?" The blacksmith rubbed his admittedly not-so-friendly-looking face in confusion before returning to his work.
After encountering the terrifying human blacksmith, the Felyne decided it would be better to ask for directions from someone a bit friendlier.
Looking around, its gaze eventually settled on a small, elderly Wyverian man.
Compared to the tall humans, this old man, who wasn't much taller than itself and had so many wrinkles they almost hid his eyes, seemed much more approachable.
"Excuse me, sir... is this Kokoto Village, meow?" The Felyne's voice trembled slightly, still shaken from its earlier experience.
"Hmm? What do you think?" The village chief, who seemed to be suffering from dementia, tilted his head and replied.
"..."
Faced with the old man's kind smile, the Felyne felt like it was about to cry.
Father, meow! Do I really have to train in this place, meow?! Humans are scary, meow! Wyverians are weird, meow!
In the end, a kind-hearted woman passing by came to the Felyne's rescue.
Upon hearing that it was looking for "a hunter named Gordon," she led it to the training grounds.
When they arrived, the Felyne bowed deeply to the kind woman as she left, its impression of humans improving significantly.
Hearing that someone had come specifically to see him, Gordon paused his training and walked over, wiping his sweat with a towel.
Clearly, he hadn't expected the visitor to be a Felyne, and his expression turned to one of surprise.
"Uh, hello. I'm Gordon. And you are?"
"G-Gordon-sama, hello, meow! My name is Pork Chop, meow! Father sent me to Kokoto Village to find you, hoping you would allow me to train with you, meow!"
The Felyne named Pork Chop puffed out its chest, trying to appear taller and stronger.
Its trembling whiskers and stiff tail betrayed its nervousness. Speaking so formally in one go was no small feat for the timid Felyne.
The overly formal grammar, the slightly odd honorifics, and the distinctive name "Pork Chop" immediately brought Gordon's memories back to two weeks ago.
"Is your father... Steak?" Though he was almost certain, Gordon felt it was better to confirm.
"Yes, meow! I am Steak's eldest son, meow!"
Pork Chop waved its tiny paws for emphasis, its round eyes filled with admiration. "Father said that Gordon-sama is a brave and powerful hunter, meow!"
"Uh, just call me Gordon. I'm not some great figure, and I'm far from powerful. You don't need to use honorifics," Gordon said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
"But Father said humans place great importance on manners, meow?"
"Well, that's true, but I'm not your elder, so you can just address me as an equal," Gordon explained.
"Okay, Gordon..."
Pork Chop's ears twitched. "But it feels very strange, meow! Please let me call you Gordon-sama, meow!"
"We'll talk about that later."
Rubbing his temples, Gordon realized it wouldn't be easy to change Pork Chop's speech habits. He decided to shift the conversation to something more important.
Steak had saved his life, and he owed him a debt of gratitude. Now that Steak's child had come to him, Gordon wouldn't refuse any request he could help with.
"Your father said you wanted to train with me. What exactly does that mean?"
"It means I want to form a contract with Gordon-sama and become your hunting cat, meow!"
Gordon was taken aback.
A hunting cat was a Felyne that partnered with a hunter, accompanying them on hunts and providing various forms of support.
The relationship between a hunter and their hunting cat wasn't one of master and servant but of trusted comrades who could rely on each other in battle.
On the hunt, a hunting cat could offer many types of assistance, depending on its strengths.
Some Felynes excelled in close combat, fighting side by side with their hunter on the front lines. Others were skilled with hunting tools, setting traps and bombs to create opportunities for their hunter. Some were adept at playing unique melodies on special flutes, boosting their hunter's morale and potential...
Apart from their skills, a hunting cat's personality also greatly influenced its behavior.
Reckless Felynes might charge at monsters without a second thought, while peace-loving gatherers might wander off to pick mushrooms in the middle of a fight...
Ultimately, what truly determined a hunting cat's effectiveness was its experience and the bond it shared with its hunter.
If the partnership was strong enough, a hunting cat might even bravely blow a horn to distract a monster, risking its life to cover its hunter's retreat.
No matter the method, hunting cats were undeniably helpful to hunters.
Accepting Steak's child as a hunting cat wasn't just repaying a favor—it was a gift!
Gordon crouched down to meet Pork Chop's eyes. "Setting aside your father's opinion, what do youthink, Pork Chop?
To be honest, I'm just a novice hunter who's only recently become a one-star. Wouldn't it be better to seek out more experienced hunters in Schrade City?"
Pork Chop scratched its pointed ears with a paw, its voice filled with admiration. "Gordon-sama is a very powerful hunter! I saw it with my own eyes, meow!"
"You saw it?"
"Yes, meow! That day, I was gathering in the forest and heard the sounds of battle. I sneaked closer and saw Gordon-sama use the Bulldrome's own tusk to defeat it, meow!
One day, Gordon-sama will definitely become a legendary hunter, meow! Training with Gordon-sama isn't just Father's suggestion—it's my wish too, meow!"
Gordon was speechless.
With Pork Chop saying that, refusing would no longer be politeness but pretentiousness.
He smiled and reached out, shaking Pork Chop's tiny paw. "Then let's get stronger together. I look forward to working with you, Pork Chop."
"Meow!"
Seeing Gordon agree, Pork Chop carefully pulled out a neatly rolled parchment from its bag.
This was the Felyne contract.
Without hesitation, Gordon took the contract, skimmed through it, then bit his thumb and pressed a blood-stained fingerprint onto it, symbolizing his commitment.
Pork Chop did the same, pricking its paw pad with the tip of its Cat Pick and leaving a small paw print on the contract.
From that moment on, they were partners bound by life and death.
"Come on, Pork Chop. Let's go home. We'll have a feast to celebrate tonight!"
Gordon grabbed Pork Chop's bag, slung it over his shoulder, and ruffled the Felyne's furry head with a grin.
After carefully storing the contract, Pork Chop hesitated for a moment before hopping onto Gordon's back.
This was one of the ways Felynes expressed closeness and trust.
"Ugh, Pork Chop, how much do you weigh?" Gordon pretended to groan, teasing the Felyne.
Pork Chop's fur bristled. "Not that much, meow! I'm only twenty kilograms—a perfectly standard weight, meow! Even though I eat a lot, I exercise regularly, meow!"
"Heh, then you'd better eat well tonight. Tomorrow's training won't be easy."
"No problem, meow!"
"How about fried pork chops for dinner? I've got some good Bullfango meat at home."
"...That sounds a bit strange, but I'm looking forward to it, meow!"