"So, why do I have to carry this thing?" Lambert held up the brand-new, gleaming frying pan, confusion written across her pallid face.
Altaïr was busy adjusting the Sandship's wheel and sails as the small vessel raced across the sea of sand, leaving him no time to answer her.
Sajji, crouched at the bow and tinkering with a small device, looked up and gave Lambert an odd glance. "That's a frying pan, meow. What else would you use a pan for besides cooking, meow?"
"No, I know it's a frying pan, but why bring one into the wild?"
Once they had navigated around a series of rolling dunes and reached relatively flat ground, Altaïr could finally ease up on the constant, nerve-racking task of steering.
He wedged the ship's wheel under his arm to hold it steady. Facing the vast Great Desert, he was in quite a good mood. "For a Hunter, isn't it only natural to forage and cook in the wild? The instructor at the training camp taught you how to use a portable BBQ spit, right? What about the Well-done Steak song? Haven't you learned it?
Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun."
"Ahhhhh! Stop it right now!" Lambert reacted like a Felyne whose tail had been stepped on. "You're off-key! And the rhythm is wrong! It should go like this..."
She instinctively pulled her Iron Horn in front of her, placed her fingers on the strings, and strummed them with a bright jingle. "Ding~ ding-ding, ding-ding-ding-ding~ wait, ding-ding-ding, ding-ding-ding. Actually, I even rearranged it into a faster, more passionate version... no, wait!"
Coming to her senses, Lambert pushed the Iron Horn aside. "What does this have to do with the Well-done Steak song? Who has time to set up a BBQ grill and cook meat in the middle of an intense hunt? Besides, even if it is for grilling meat, why do you need a frying pan? Are we supposed to cook a proper meal out in the hunting grounds?"
Rather than answer her rhetorical question, Altaïr looked up at the scorching sun overhead. "There's a small oasis ahead. We'll rest there for a while.
We can also check for traces of that mysterious small Flying Wyvern. Since they've only just arrived in the Great Desert, they probably aren't used to such an arid wasteland, so we'll have a better chance of spotting them near an oasis."
Without giving Lambert a chance to continue, Altaïr pulled the ship's wheel to turn the hull sideways, then lowered the sails. He parked the rented small Sandship and stepped on the anchor stakes to secure it, ensuring the desert wind would not blow it over.
Once that was done, Altaïr jumped off the ship and headed toward the nearby oasis. "Keep up. Oh, and don't forget your frying pan."
"Honestly, will you listen when someone's talking...?" Lambert strapped on her Iron Horn, picked up the new frying pan, and followed him, muttering under her breath.
The two Hunters and Sajji reached the center of the oasis and settled in the shade of a tree beside a body of water that could barely be called a lake. It was more of a pond at best.
"Aren't we going to keep moving? It's not even noon yet," Lambert asked before sitting down.
"I thought that once you became a 2★ Hunter, you'd have gained at least a little experience, but now I see you're still a complete rookie." Altaïr chuckled.
"This is the Great Desert. The midday sun can bake a person to death. Pushing on stubbornly at that hour doesn't just drain your stamina; it also makes heatstroke and dehydration far too likely.
At night, the temperature drops too low, and the strong desert winds make hypothermia a real threat. That's why the hours just before dawn and around dusk are the best times to travel.
The training camp doesn't teach details this specific. Even if it did, you wouldn't remember them all, because the right strategy changes with the region and season. You can only pick these things up through experience, bit by bit."
Lambert grumbled under her breath, but she had to admit Altaïr had a point.
Just a few days earlier, she had been out on a mission beneath the blazing sun. She had pushed herself until she could not take it anymore and had to down two cold drinks to ease the heat, costing her a decent chunk of zenny. "Set up the portable BBQ spit," Altaïr said, spreading a rough cloth blanket on the ground and dropping onto it.
"So you really do cook outdoors?" Lambert repeated. "Why not just bring a few rations? Why pile on all that pointless extra weight?"
"It isn't pointless weight." Altaïr's expression grew stern. "A portable BBQ spit is as essential to a Hunter as a Carving Knife. Why do you think that is? Do you believe the lessons passed down by senior Hunters are all just jokes?
Sure, rations can fill your belly, but they're emergency food. Say you're halfway through chasing a Monster when hunger strikes. You pull one out to quiet your stomach. They aren't meant to be your regular meals.
Out in the wild, you need to make the most of the resources around you. Fill your stomach. Keep yourself in peak condition at all times. Don't fixate solely on what's faster or more convenient."
Lambert pursed her lips at Altaïr's lecture but did not argue. It was impossible to tell whether the lesson had sunk in.
Altaïr glanced at her and suddenly asked another question. "How much does a single ration cost?"
Lambert blinked, then answered without thinking. "It varies by region, but the average is around 30z?"
"Even on a simple round-trip mission completed in a day, you'll still go through three to five rations if you're frugal. That's over a hundred zenny in expenses, and it barely keeps you from collapsing from hunger.
If you visit the market first and buy ingredients such as cured bacon and cheese, it costs far less than buying emergency dry rations. Over time, you'll save a fair bit of money."
Those words finally began to win Lambert over. She hesitantly asked, "Can it really save money?"
"Absolutely. And saving money isn't even the main point. Eating nutritious food leaves you in better shape to face a Monster. The difference is obvious.
Why else do you think so many Hunters spend money on a Canteen meal at the Guild Hall before setting out on a quest? It isn't just for the taste.
But given your current financial situation, you probably aren't eager to spend money on a Canteen meal, right? So why not try making one yourself?"
Lambert looked down at the frying pan in her hand. Her pale face was reflected in its gleaming base. She was beginning to come around.
"So... how do I do it?"
When Lambert finally showed some interest, Altaïr smiled. "Just watch me do it first. Sajji, see if you can find anything else to eat around here."
"All right, meow!" Sajji, who had been crouching nearby, got up and ran toward the pond.
Altaïr took out a large slab of bacon wrapped in oil paper and cut off two palm-sized pieces, each two or three centimeters thick.
Then he deftly set up the portable BBQ spit, placed his own frying pan, blackened and polished from use, on top, and laid the two pieces of bacon in it to fry slowly.
"Don't worry about the weight. If you're concerned it'll get in the way, you can do the cooking at camp. Once you're full, just leave the extra ingredients and cookware stored there," Altaïr said as he shook the pan by its handle.
Soon, Sajji returned with what he had found.
He had gathered some berries around the pond and found a beehive from which he had collected Honey.
"You don't seem too particular about flavor, so don't overthink it. Just toss in whatever you have." Altaïr threw the berries into the sizzling pan. Once the two thick pieces of bacon were golden, he drizzled Honey over them.
"Eat up. It can't compare to the delicious Canteen meals prepared by Felyne Chefs, but it's much better than gnawing on dry rations.
As long as you don't mind rough fare, you can cook fish, mushrooms, vegetables, or just about anything else. Add a little oil to the pan and it'll be edible." Altaïr skewered a piece of bacon with his knife and handed the rest, pan and all, to Lambert.
Lambert accepted it carefully.
She rarely indulged in fine food and certainly would not wolf it down the way Isis did. But the moment the hot meat entered her mouth, an involuntary smile broke across her usually impassive face.
The berries and Honey combined with the salty, heavily spiced bacon, creating a blend of sour, sweet, and salty flavors. It could hardly be called delicious.
But the satisfaction of nutrient-rich, calorie-dense meat settling in her stomach went far beyond anything dry, hard rations could provide.
Lambert ate intently, even scraping the slightly burnt berry pieces stuck to the pan with her knife and licking them from the blade.
"Want another piece?" Altaïr asked with a smile. "Isis always considers five or six just a starting point."
"That won't be necessary. Thank you, Senior Altaïr. I'm very full."
Lambert patted her belly, feeling the meal slowly restore her strength. She stared at the frying pan in her hand for a long moment, then nodded decisively.
"I think I understand now. The portable BBQ spit isn't useless after all, and neither is the frying pan."
"Good. Go sleep in the shade over there and build up your strength. We have a lot of ground to cover later."
Just as he said that, a swift, pale-blue shadow streaked overhead. It dove into the small pond not far from them, snatched up a fish, and soared back into the air.
Blue scales and wing membranes. A pale yellow bony crest. A body shaped like a Remobra's, only more compact.
After a brief moment of shock, Altaïr shot to his feet.
That's it! The creature before him was the so-called "unknown small Flying Wyvern"! Altaïr's hand instinctively went for the hilt of his sword. Sensing the alarm in his expression and movements, Lambert also stood, grabbed the Hunting Horn beside her, and yanked its string hard to activate the melody.
"So that's the target? We've filled our bellies, so it's time to get to work!"
(Translated by yourtl.app)