Altaïr had only just run around the street corner when he began to feel a little regretful.
In truth, if he calmed down a bit, he would realize his anger stemmed less from his teacher and more from himself.
He'd boasted about being independent and not needing to rely on anyone anymore, but when it came to a critical moment, hadn't he still shamelessly "called for his guardian"?
But the pride of his rebellious phase wouldn't allow him to turn back and apologize right now, nor did he want to go home.
But even if he didn't go home, it seemed there was nowhere else to go. At this thought, Altaïr wanted to slap himself.
A person who couldn't even figure out where to go or what to do when he was alone, what right did he have to talk about independence?!
Spurred on by a strange competitive urge, Altaïr decided to run away from home for a while.
In a way, it would also be a test for himself. As for the location, he would stay within Loc Lac and not leave the city. Otherwise, it would be something far more serious than just running away from home.
The only problem was that his daily necessities and a change of clothes were still at home. Also, shouldn't he let his teacher know, to keep her from worrying?
No, if he could prepare that meticulously, it wouldn't count as running away. That would just be taking a trip.
The first thing to do now was to make a plan. No matter what one did, having a solid plan could greatly increase the chances of success.
Altaïr checked the items he had on him.
He had just returned from a hunt in the hunting grounds and was still wearing his armor. He hadn't finished the rations in his Item Pouch, and if he was frugal, they could last him two or three days.
But surviving by gnawing on dry rations could hardly be called independence.
He weighed his money pouch. He did have money; after all, he had just collected his quest reward and sold some unneeded materials to the guild.
Since he had money, the difficulty of everything was greatly reduced. The first thing he should secure was a place to stay.
The most basic option was naturally to get a short-term single room at the guild hall tavern. With his status as a novice hunter, he could rent a very affordable room at a considerably low price.
But staying at the guild hall tavern had one major drawback: someone would definitely tell his teacher he was staying there, and then he would be dragged home by her.
Ruled out.
"Haaah..." Altaïr let out a heavy sigh.
It was far too late now. It wouldn't be easy to find a place to stay anywhere. He might as well find a random spot to make do for the night, though it was a bit cold.
The temperature difference between day and night in the desert was immense. Even if the situation in the city was relatively better, the night wind still felt chilly.
"Ah, right." Altaïr looked in a certain direction.
A colossal tusk, over a hundred meters tall, stood in the northern region of Loc Lac.
It was the symbol of this city.
Before humans arrived and established this desert metropolis, Loc Lac had been a giant rock platform covering more than ten square kilometers in the middle of the Great Desert.
That gigantic tusk, like a pillar connecting heaven and earth, had already been standing on this rock platform in ancient times, long before the birth of humanity.
The tusk pierced through the rock platform, and a clear spring gushing from beneath it formed a lake around the tusk's base. Even in the driest of seasons, it had never run dry.
The first iteration of Loc Lac was a settlement built around this lake by desert nomads who had wandered to this place.
What kind of magnificent creature was the original owner of that long-petrified tusk? How did that tusk end up embedded in the rocky platform? And what connection did it have to the lake that never ran dry?
All of this was a mystery.
Altaïr had no intention of unraveling those mysteries. He just remembered that along the shores of the great lake, there were many benches and other facilities built for the admiring tourists.
Moreover, the great lake could store the heat left by the daytime sun, and the temperature by the lakeside at night was a little higher than elsewhere.
If he was considering sleeping on the streets tonight, that place was, without a doubt, the most suitable choice.
Altaïr was a man of action. Once he had a direction, he acted immediately.
Although he wasn't born in this city, he had lived here for nearly ten years and had even worked as a guide for travelers before. He knew even the most hidden alleys.
Winding through the streets, he soon arrived at the shore of the great lake.
The giant tusk pillar standing in the center of the lake, the clear water rippling with the night breeze, and the wide, flat lakeside promenade.
Familiar scenes always had a way of relaxing the mind.
He found a random bench, lay down, and pulled his armor tighter around himself. The fatigue accumulated from the hunt and the drowsiness from two sleepless nights surged up all at once. In just a few seconds, he drifted into a deep sleep.
—--
Two furry paws landed on his face, prying his eyelids open.
Startled awake, Altaïr shot up. The little creature that had been squatting on him was thrown off, letting out a startled cry.
"Meow...!"
His mind not yet fully clear, he looked up. The sky was already turning white, but the sun had not yet fully risen. Was it already morning?
"Hey!"
An indignant shout rang out. Only then did Altaïr notice a figure standing in front of the bench, glaring at him with arms crossed.
"This is no place to sleep, young Mr. Drunkard!"
"Meow!"
The Felyne that had fallen to the ground when he sat up now stood with its paws on its hips, looking at him angrily.
Altaïr stared blankly at the person. She appeared to be a rather young lady, but because she wore a veil, he couldn't see her face clearly or accurately judge her age.
The reason he was stunned wasn't because she was a young woman, but mainly because he had noticed the uniform she was wearing.
It was a light set of armor in a yellow and off-white color scheme, crafted from leather and sturdy cloth. Any local of Loc Lac would be familiar with this attire.
The Ranger's Armor, the exclusive gear for the Gunners and Blademasters of the Loc Lac Rangers.
As for the so-called Loc Lac Rangers, they were an official organization established under the leadership of the Loc Lac Guild Master, the mustachioed old man from last night.
They could be roughly understood as Loc Lac's local city guard, responsible for tasks such as daily security, patrols, and caravan escorts. When a Monster attacked, they were also the last line of defense protecting the citizens, deeply trusted by the residents of Loc Lac.
Because they occasionally had to fight Monsters like Genprey and Remobra that invaded the city, the members of the Loc Lac Rangers were basically all hunters, though most were not of a high rank.
Many novice hunters would also choose to hone their skills in the Rangers for a few years, and there were countless examples of famous hunters who started in the Rangers before striking out on their own.
For these reasons, anyone who wasn't a criminal with a guilty conscience would feel a certain fondness for those in the Loc Lac Rangers uniform, and Altaïr was no exception.
He lowered his head in embarrassment and explained, "Sorry, I just couldn't find a place to sleep last night and was too tired, so I fell asleep here.
As for being a drunkard, I haven't had anything to drink."
The Ranger girl was stunned for a moment. She leaned in and sniffed him a couple of times, and just as he'd said, there was no smell of alcohol.
In the dim light, she carefully studied Altaïr's expression and his armor.
He didn't look like he was lying, and he seemed even younger than her. Could he not even be an adult yet?
The iconic Hunter's Set of a novice hunter, with clear signs of use, and even some bloodstains that hadn't been washed off yet. Had he just returned from the hunting grounds?
Couldn't find a place to sleep...
Did he fail a quest and not get paid, so he couldn't even afford a room? He was probably starving, too.
How pitiful!
The look of displeasure in the Ranger girl's eyes vanished, replaced by pity, sympathy, and a strange sense of responsibility that made Altaïr's skin crawl.
She grabbed Altaïr's hand and pulled him up from the tourist bench.
"Let's go! I'll treat you to breakfast, and then I'll find you a place to stay!"
Altaïr: "?"
------------------------
Note:
In MH3, the Ranger's set requires Amatsu materials. That would be too ridiculous in a realistic setting.
Here, it's defined as a low-cost, high-value standard-issue set, similar to the High Metal set, but not on the level of the Guild Cross set, which is equipment for the Guild's elite knights.