“Boss-ow, we have sothing that needs your permission-ow.”
The Grimalkyne leader approached Logan to report the matters discussed at the recent cat Gathering.
Two issues had been raised. The first was their desire to open a Felyne canteen at the cliff edge beside the Ancient Tree’s canopy, to be nad “The Seat of Wyvern and Cat.” The Grimalkyne chefs would serve as the head cooks, while Fire Wyvern couples who wished to eat Felyne als would provide the main ingredients for the dishes.
As for the other ingredients required, the cats would cultivate them themselves or forage within the forest. If they truly could not obtain them, they could request assistance from the Research Commission.
This matter was hardly worth objecting to. The Fire Wyvern flock would finally have a canteen of their own for Felyne als—it was an excellent developnt. Logan had no reason to refuse.
The second matter, however, was sothing the cats had discussed under the na of the “Ancient Tree Renovation Plan.”
Of course, calling it a plan was perhaps too grand. At this stage, the number of cats was just barely sufficient to cover most of the newly ranked Fire Wyvern families. But limited by the terrain of the Ancient Tree, traveling on foot alone left the cats exhausted, and it restricted the expansion of their service range.
Inspired by the cable cars at the Astera base, the cats now wanted to build ropeway gliding passages throughout the canopy of the Ancient Tree.
That’s right—it was only ropeway gliding passages, not automatic elevators like the cable cars at Astera.
There was no helping it. Leaving aside the fact that the cats had no such technology, the geography of the Ancient Tree simply did not allow it.
The cable cars at Astera ran on the power of the massive waterwheel set in the center of the waterfall, driven by its rushing flow to energize the entire base.
But in the Ancient Forest, the water supply had to be maintained through reservoirs. Without such a power source, the only option was to construct downward ropeway gliding passages to shorten the ti the cats spent traveling on foot.
Since this involved altering the environnt of the Ancient Tree, they needed Logan’s approval, relying on his authority to prevent other Fire Wyverns from objecting.
There was nothing to debate. With an open and easygoing heart, Logan agreed offhand and left the matter in the cats’ care.
As they spoke, a commotion suddenly arose outside.
Curious, Logan stepped out to take a look—only to see that the wounds of the tempered Azure Rathalos had healed, and it was now launching a challenge.
And its target, once again, was the Fla Rathalos.
Why both Azure Rathalos had singled out the Fla Rathalos among so many Rathalos was anyone’s guess.
It had to be said—the tempered Azure Rathalos from the Elder’s Recess truly had so skill. Thanks to the benefits of Symbiosis, the Fla Rathalos’s Blast Sacs had been greatly strengthened. It could now stabilize the violent fire energy within its body on its own, so long as it didn’t get worked up emotionally or thrown into an intense battle.
But the tempered Azure Rathalos’s strength was indeed formidable. Last ti, it had been instantly slain only because Logan struck with supersonic speed and his Pressure, catching it completely off guard. If it had been ready, the fight would surely have dragged on for several more exchanges.
After all, monsters from the Elder’s Recess were known less for their attack power than for their top-class vitality and defense.
Sure enough, as the battle wore on, the Fla Rathalos failed to suppress its flas and once again entered Fla Mode. With a barrage of condensed fire breaths unleashed, the tempered Azure Rathalos imdiately backed down.
It couldn’t be helped—it had co here to breed, not to get itself battered again!
...
In the northern Great Ravine of the Ancient Forest, within a hidden crack among scattered boulders, a massive corpse lay wedged into the rubble. Its body was shriveled and pitch black, and upon closer inspection, it looked sowhat like the carcass of a Zinogre.
Flocks of Barnos circled high above, but the chaotic piles of debris below blocked their line of sight, preventing them from finding the body.
[Crack!]
A faint sound, like an eggshell breaking, ca from the corpse. Then, an eerie scene unfolded.
Fissures split across the blackened body of the Zinogre, and suddenly, a blood-red wing claw burst forth as though a corpse were clawing its way out of a grave. It tore through the cracked black hide, the movent echoing with the sharp creak of grinding bones.
The Zinogre’s carcass split apart like an abandoned cocoon, and from within crawled a Gore Magala. Its bones were limp and soft, its body weak and writhing as it dragged itself out, inch by inch.
During this process, the wing mbranes gradually unfurled, its scales hardened little by little, and its entire body swelled like a balloon. In less than half an hour, a newborn Gore Magala, its length barely 15 ters, stood firmly amidst the rubble, supported by four legs and two wings.
At this stage, its spines had not yet fully grown, and as its wings trembled, clouds of black scale-dust drifted outward. Lacking eyes, it had to rely on this dust, imbued with the Frenzy Virus, to sense its surroundings until its perception matured.
Turning toward the hollow husk of the Zinogre, the Gore Magala showed no hesitation. Its bloody maw opened wide, and it devoured the remains whole.
For this newborn Gore Magala—still weak and unable to contend with larger monsters—every scrap of nutrition from the body that had served as its breeding cradle was vital. Not a morsel could go to waste.
So of the scale-dust scattered by the Gore Magala hovered near its body, controlled to serve as its “eyes.” Another portion, however, was carried by the fierce winds of the Great Ravine, drifting down toward the Ancient Forest below.
...
Ti slipped by. More than half a month passed.
On this day, Astera convened a eting and ultimately announced a long-term mission titled “The Scorching Flas of Crimson and Silver.” Only hunter squads rated six-star or higher in the New World’s special evaluation could accept it.
Six-star!
That level was reserved for Elder Dragons or monsters with destructive power over entire regions.
What’s more, this was a long-term observation mission, aning the assigned hunters would be stationed in the field for no less than half a year.
The task itself was simple: to remain near the Ancient Tree and conduct ecological observations of the Fire Wyvern packs, as well as the Fire Wyvern King.
With the Grimalkynes’ aid, the danger was not especially high. The real difficulty lay in the Ancient Forest’s distance from Astera—once deployed, the hunter squads would be left isolated in the forest’s depths, a place teeming with powerful creatures.
Strictly speaking, the risk could not be called low.
Yet the mont the mission was posted, applications from nurous squads poured in.
There was no helping it. The Commission’s main objective now was to chart safe routes, which ant avoiding the territories of high-ranking monsters whenever possible. Most of the creatures hunters encountered on the job were Jagras or Wingdrakes—nothing on the level of Fire Wyverns.
Hunters of higher ecological rank rarely encountered anything beyond brute monsters like the Anjanath.
So for these elite hunters—driven by a fierce spirit of exploration and adventure—an assignnt to observe the Fire Wyvern packs was truly a dream co true. A little danger ant nothing to them.
“Hahaha, these fellows are really bursting with energy! Not bad at all… though if this keeps up, I’m afraid they’ll end up clashing over the assignnt.”
The Admiral stood with his arms crossed, grinning as he looked at the noisy crowd gathered before the quest counter.
As First Fleet elites, most of the hunters already qualified for six-star quests. And the few outstanding talents brought over from the Second Fleet were just as qualified.
Because of this, nearly half of the entire Commission’s hunters had rushed to the counter at once. The quest maid, responsible for issuing assignnts, looked visibly troubled.
“You’re right. Posting this quest was a bit careless. All these years, the hunters have been cooped up close to base, and over at the Wildspire Waste, they’ve been stuck securing the transport routes. They’ve all been stifled too long. I should have anticipated this beforehand.”
Carlos rubbed his forehead. As Commander-in-Chief, he knew he could hardly escape responsibility for this ss. It was a reminder that he still had much to learn.
“Yeah, but it’s too late to take it back now. So, the way I see it, to avoid any conflict, I should take this quest myself! With my strength, I’m sure they’ll accept it without complaint.”
Carlos’s mouth twitched. He had known all along this man was restless. Dragging him all the way to Astera just to witness the uproar at the counter—it had been his plan from the start.
Letting out a light sigh, Carlos did not refuse. After all, given the current situation, it really did seem like the only way out.
Besides, even if he objected, with the Admiral’s temperant, it was only a matter of ti before he went off on his own to conduct the investigation anyway.
Moreover, with 'Its' presence in Astera, the situation within the stronghold had grown increasingly stable. Most monsters dared not approach the gates, and there was no longer the threat of massive assaults. A hunter of the Admiral’s caliber truly should not be confined within the base.
With a Huntsman already stationed there, most situations could be handled well enough.
Realizing this, Carlos gave a light nod.
“Then I’ll leave it to you! Don’t forget to bring your equipnt. And since it’s you, while you’re at it, try to expand our reach in the Ancient Tree region. It would be best if you could establish a small outpost nearby.”
The Admiral did not refuse Carlos’s request. In fact, even if Carlos hadn’t ntioned it, he would have done so anyway.
“By the way, once you reach the upper levels of the Ancient Tree, how about bringing Tonkotsu along? Without a cat, things can get a bit inconvenient sotis.”
The thought had occurred to the Admiral. Tonkotsu was Sita’s disciple, and he had a duty to help the young one grow.
Besides, Tonkotsu was also one of the Commission’s ‘higher-ups.’ Even if he was currently on leave, surely he wouldn’t turn down such a request.
Just as the Admiral declared he would take the quest and began facing the hunters’ complaints—
On the second floor, at the Smithy.
The head of the supply team walked out, clutching a large lock and wearing a sowhat deranged grin.
This was a custom lock he had devised together with the craftsn in his spare ti. He didn’t believe for a second that this new lock wouldn’t last at least a week!
In the corner of the forge, the camouflaged Chaleos quietly slithered out of its hiding place.
This ti, it had personally watched the entire forging process of the lock. It refused to believe that this new one could hold it back for more than five days!
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