Bean-sized raindrops pattered against the ground, slowly dousing the burning vegetation.
The Admiral wiped the rain from his face, staring at the magma pool where thick white steam rose. There, a charred, unrecognizable mass was being pelted by raindrops, each impact leaving a small pit.
Soon, under the pounding downpour, Gore Magala's corpse completely disintegrated. The powder mixed with rainwater and was swallowed by the magma pool. The nutrients and energy it had stolen from that Zinogre's body would return to the earth in this way.
"Such a pity." The Admiral shook his head.
"A corpse this rare… if it could've been given to the scholars for study, maybe they'd have unlocked a few of its hidden secrets. What a waste—what a shame."
Strictly speaking, the Gore Magala's body hadn't burned entirely to ash, but it was little better. The insides were hollow, leaving only a fragile shell that quickly turned to sludge under the rain.
As for salvaging a few larger fragments, the Admiral never even considered it.
Hunters might be called superhuman, but swimming through magma was beyond even them.
And he was still young—he wasn't ready for such an early, fiery death.
"Let's head back. Soaked through like this, it's miserable. Today we'll rest properly. The next few days we'll scout around here, see if any more frenzied monsters turn up. After that, we'll return to the Ancient Tree. By then I should be picking up my reward, heh."
At those words, Tonkotsu, shaking the water from his fur, shot the Admiral a look of envy.
To bring the Admiral out here for this investigation, Logan had paid a full intact scale-plate from a molt as his fee! Even Tonkotsu himself only owned five of those precious back scales.
Maintaining his Silver Rathalos form, Logan led the swarm of Fire Wyverns in a thunderous return to the Ancient Tree. At the canopy's peak he deliberately circled for quite a while, unleashing his Pressure Trait in full force. Terrified, hordes of monsters cursed and fled madly from the Ancient Tree's domain.
Among them were quite a few that had only recently migrated back—only to once again feel the suffocating presence of an Elder Dragon.
Day after day, life was anything but easy!
After delivering this show of dominance to the other monsters, Logan finally released his form and descended slowly, satisfied.
His maneuver was no pointless display.
It was to make sure every creature in the area understood: an unknown Elder Dragon now resided within the Ancient Tree.
Just like that patch of ground at the Ancient Tree's crown—once a perch of Kushala Daora—where no monster, not even Fire Wyverns, dared build a nest, fearing its return and the wrath that might follow.
Logan's method was the same: intimidation.
The Gore Magala incident might have ended, but Logan did not let down his guard.
That creature was like a cockroach—if one appeared, it meant there was likely a brood somewhere.
So, to be safe, Logan ordered the Flame Rathalos to hunt north as much as possible. With its strength, and with the natural resistance of its flame-charged state against scale-dust, it was more than capable of suppressing any Gore Magala that might show up.
As for the Fire Wyvern swarm, they were tasked with keeping watch for any frenzied monsters.
If they found any, then as long as they could be killed, the hunters were to remember to bring the corpses back. And if they couldn't bring them back, they were to at least dismember them.
Without access to a complete carcass for nourishment, and with the stench of blood from the remains, carrion feeders would be drawn in droves. Under the dual safeguard of scavengers and the natural cycle, the birth of Gore Magala could be restricted as much as possible.
That was all Logan could manage. After all, the Ancient Forest wasn't the Fire Wyvern swarm's own territory. The forest was vast, and even covering just one section was already exhausting for them. There was no way they could patrol the entire forest.
So, if the infection really couldn't be contained, and the Frenzy Virus broke out completely in the forest, then Logan and the Fire Wyverns doing their part to kill off a few more would already be going above and beyond.
Anything more simply wasn't possible.
Another reward came through, but perhaps because this Gore Magala had still been weak and had not caused major ecological damage, the progress bar for his new Trait only rose by about 10%.
Better than nothing.
All the same, as he had said before, there was no way there would only ever be one Gore Magala.
Logan had a foreboding sense that before long, he would be dispatched again and again. Nature's consciousness would not forget its thug-for-hire, the one who just happened to be the perfect bane of the Gore Magala.
...
At the Astera Base, Chameleos looked on with distaste at the dissected corpses of two Tobi-Kadachi. Though it thrived on toxins and had nothing to do with viruses, the viscous black-purple blood and the fist-sized clumps of putrid flesh still made it feel uncomfortable.
The sight had ruined its mood for the day, to the point that even its usual pastime of picking locks felt unappealing.
And earlier that morning, an inexplicable summons had stirred in its heart once more.
This time, however, the call came from within the forest—near the great ravine bordering the Coral Highlands.
After being summoned twice in succession, even a slothful creature like Chameleos could tell that something was wrong.
Since the big boss had made such a request, Chameleos reluctantly agreed to check out the situation. If it turned out to be troublesome, well, it could always just slip away and come back.
Just as it was about to take off, something came to mind.
Trotting over to the warehouse door, Chameleos glanced around to make sure no one was watching. With one bite, it yanked off the brand-new lock and planned to fiddle with it on the way.
Even if it was leaving for a while, there was no way it would allow this lock to hold out against it for seven whole days!
Stuffing the lock into its mouth, Chameleos spread its wings and lifted into the sky before anyone arrived.
The commotion at the warehouse didn't go unnoticed. The quartermaster hurried over, only to find the lock brutally torn from the door, his expression darkening in exasperation.
That lock had only been put on three days ago. Could that creature really have lost its patience so quickly? Or had something happened?
Still puzzled, the quartermaster searched around for the missing lock but found no trace of it. Pushing the door open, he saw that the supplies inside were neatly arranged on their trays, which only reinforced his suspicion.
"I don't know what kind of trouble it's run into, but… let's just hope everything goes smoothly."
With that thought, he could only silently pray that the invisible creature would return safely. Casting his gaze over the orderly warehouse, he sighed.
"Since I'm here anyway, I might as well take inventory."
...
Time passed in a blur. By the time the Admiral cheerfully carried off a full meter-wide back scale, Logan was left stretching his neck in mute resignation.
That scale had already started to age—he'd been meaning to shed it for some time.
Now that it was replaced, even his neck felt much lighter.
At that moment, Logan had no idea just how extraordinary that scale would be once forged into equipment. Nor could he understand why a legendary hunter like the Admiral, who had seen so much of the world, would value it so highly.
In the past few days, the Flame Rathalos hadn't encountered any new Gore Magala. Meanwhile, the Fire Wyvern swarm had hunted down two Frenzied Great Jagras nearby—most likely stragglers that had slipped through during the earlier siege against the Gore Magala.
Overall, the forest remained relatively calm.
As the ecosystem quickly recovered, the Ancient Tree area once again began to thrive with diverse species.
The cats' vine slideways were still under enthusiastic construction, already covering more than half of the upper reaches of the Ancient Tree.
With food supplies replenished, a new round of Jagras domestication had begun. There was even a proposal to attempt the taming of Kestodon within the Ancient Tree.
The only thing that troubled the cats was that, unlike the Wildspire Waste, the Ancient Tree lacked open spaces suitable for farming, and the density of monsters here was far too overwhelming. The painstaking farming techniques they had learned ended up as little more than a display piece.
But in the end, the clever cats found a new direction. They began cultivating mushrooms and insects instead, hoping to breed some of the New World's unique species to fill the trade supplies needed by the Research Commission.
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