"You glutton. This time we really suffered thanks to you. When we get back to Astera, you'd better break out your mushroom stash and treat us to a proper feast."
The Wyverian scholar wiped the blood from his hands and grinned at the editor, who was busy organizing his notes.
"Come on, I've only managed to gather a handful this year! They're not even dried yet, and you're already eyeing them! How about we just hit the canteen for a nice big meal instead—my treat?"
The man nicknamed 'Glutton' quickly waved his hands and stuffed his notes back into his pack, pleading with his companions.
"Hey, if you hadn't poked your head out, how else would that Great Jagras have noticed us? Just admit it already—are you in or not? The canteen's stew is tasty, sure, but after all these years, isn't it nice to switch things up once in a while?"
The Wyverian scholar pressed on relentlessly.
"Alright, alright, fine! I get it! Just some mushrooms, right? Eat all you want! I'll feed you till you burst!"
Glutton wore a look of pained resignation—but they both knew he was faking it.
Sure, he was a notorious foodie with a monstrous appetite. Whenever he was off-duty, you'd find him loitering around the canteen—either snacking on free fruit or buying grilled meat—while flipping through borrowed notes from other editors.
But just as much, he enjoyed sharing his latest culinary finds with his companions.
"Still, Nori," the Wyverian asked curiously, "why did you stick your head out like that in the first place? That's not like you."
Nori may have been gluttonous, but he was a solid editor and a dependable partner to Wade. He had never once dragged them down on an assignment, so this uncharacteristic lapse was puzzling.
"Oh, that…"
Nori scratched his head, hesitating. "I'm not sure if I was just seeing things. When I was observing that Great Jagras, I noticed something strange when it regurgitated. Aside from bits of food, it looked like… some kind of crystal. It reminded me of a wyvern gem. I couldn't get a clear look from where I was, and I guess I got too excited and exposed myself."
He looked a bit embarrassed as he finished speaking—but his words made the other two frown.
"A wyvern gem… can those even be spit out?"
Wade turned toward the Wyverian scholar, uncertain.
The scholar shook his head as their gazes landed on him. "I don't know. But none of the current literature on wyvern gems mentions anything like that. Normally, they're harvested during dissection of large monsters—and even then, the drop rate is pretty low. Not all large monsters carry them inside."
"Maybe what you saw was some other kind of rare crystal. Still, it's worth reporting when we get back."
They nodded in agreement. Just then, Ruby the Palico emerged from underground, a disappointed look on his face as he shook his head at Wade.
"Meow~ nyaow~"
"Ruby says that Anjanath is still out there. No sign of it leaving anytime soon."
Wade's face darkened. They'd spent so much time discussing the strange Jagras, but the Anjanath outside was just as abnormal.
According to the information gathered so far by the Research Commission, there isn't much difference between the Anjanath of the New World and those of the Old World—apart from the fact that the Ancient Forest offers richer nutrition. As a result, the Anjanath here tend to be larger. In addition to herbivores, both Jagras and Great Jagras are part of its diet.
However, the Anjanath currently outside the cave wasn't just larger in size—it actually knew how to ambush! And now, it was even lying in wait!
That was the real issue.
Anjanaths are notorious for their aggression and strong territorial instincts. They don't typically remain in one area for long outside of feeding; it's just not their nature.
Usually, if an Anjanath isn't fighting, it's on its way to pick a fight. Most of its time is spent patrolling and marking territory—not resting or lying in wait.
So how could this one be so unusually patient, crouching there to ambush them?
From the perspective of a human, a relatively small-bodied creature, they should barely even register to a behemoth like that. If it's in the mood, it might swat them aside; if not, it might just chase them off as a nuisance.
So why on earth would an Anjanath not only ambush them, but also block access to the spring?
"Sigh... Now we're in trouble. The Huntsman and the others are off investigating the Wildspire Waste, and the Admiral went deep into the forest alone. If anyone else comes to support us and ends up running into this anomalous Anjanath… it won't end well."
Their First Team was indeed made up of elite hunters—but even among elites, there were levels.
Hunters like the Admiral and the Huntsman, who had once confronted Elder Dragons of legend, stood at the pinnacle of all elites. But in the entire Research Commission, there were only a handful like them.
The majority were like Wade—high-ranking hunters who, after days of preparation and with good intel, had successfully hunted monsters on the level of a Rathian.
In theory, hunters of that level should be capable of going toe-to-toe with a typical Anjanath. But this one was different—its speed, power, and size all exceeded that of an ordinary Anjanath. Even its combat style was unnervingly polished, its attack frequency rapid and precise, like a veteran hardened by countless battles.
How the hell did such a brute become so refined?
Even a high-ranking hunter would be at a disadvantage upon first encounter—and simply escaping in one piece would already count as a success.
For a moment, the atmosphere in the ravine grew heavy with tension.
...
Up in the skies, Logan and Aki flew side by side. Suddenly, a red signal flare shot up from the forest ahead. With a single glance, Logan recognized it—it was the Research Commission's emergency flare.
In these past five years, the Commission had managed to establish a solid foothold in the New World. With the ship lodged atop a mountain peak as their base, they had claimed the surrounding highlands and begun setting up forward camps to explore the edges of the Ancient Forest and the Wildspire Waste.
Although Logan had never met any of the Commission members personally, his nest lay right at the intersection between those two regions. Every time he flew overhead, he could see the ship gleaming on the mountaintop in the distance.
This wasn't the first time he'd seen one of their rescue signals either. Back during the chaotic days when two Elder Dragons had clashed for dominance, the environment had been thrown into disarray. Every type of monster was scrambling to seize territory, and while the Commission tried to take advantage of the chaos, it meant they often encountered greater threats during expeditions.
But none of that had anything to do with Logan now.
In this life, he was a wyvern—and not just any wyvern, but a Rathalos, one of the most dangerous.
Yes—dangerous not just in terms of being a threat to the Research Commission, but also being threatened himself.
"Rathalos tails are a rare delicacy. Rathalos scales are legendary collector's items. A Rathalos is the ultimate rite of passage for any hunter. Its severed head is the finest of trophies."
So the stories go.
Rathalos are the most common of the high-tier apex wyverns. They're found all across the land and surrounded by countless myths.
The King of the Skies is often mockingly called… the Corpse of the Skies.
Any hunter with ambition will inevitably aim to take one down. It's a milestone they must pass.
So it goes without saying how rough a Rathalos's life really is.
Sigh… When will the Rathalos species finally rise from the dirt?
And so, regardless of what thoughts he might have, Logan was never going to actively make contact with the Commission.
But this time was different.
The distress flare had come from within that Anjanath's territory—and happened to lie directly along Logan's current migration route.
He didn't mind causing that Anjanath a little trouble.
Logan let out a low growl toward Aki before diving straight toward the direction of the rescue signal. Of course, he had no intention of actually fighting the Anjanath—just showing up would be enough. After all, these five years of interaction between him and that Anjanath hadn't been for nothing.
Deep in the forest, the Anjanath lying in wait was fixated on the cave entrance. Ever since it had suffered two humiliating defeats at Logan's claws, it had become utterly uncompromising—no matter the size of its enemy, it wouldn't rest until its foe was completely annihilated. It would never tolerate another stain on its pride.
Suddenly, its heart skipped a beat—a familiar sensation surged through its body.
Looking up, sure enough—it was that damn Rathalos again!
Five years! Did anyone know what it had endured these past five years?
It all started with: "You little punk, how dare you show your face again?!"
Then came: "Hey, we're all just neighbors here. No need for bloodshed, right?"
And finally: "Get lost, you filthy pest!"
At first, Logan would just occasionally circle above, deliberately making noise during the Anjanath's hunts to scare off its prey, or hurling crude insults from the sky while it patrolled its territory.
As his body grew larger, he escalated things—timing his interruptions precisely at mealtimes, breathing fire from the sky, or diving at the Anjanath as if attacking, only to pull up and soar away at the last moment—taunting it to the edge of madness.
During that period, the Anjanath was in a constant state of rage—if it wasn't angry, it was on its way to being angry. On top of that, the Ancient Forest had become swarmed with carnivorous wyverns fighting over territory, making things even worse. The Anjanath's heat-regulating crest didn't get a moment's rest.
Eventually, Logan awakened his Mind's Eye—and he didn't stop at harassment anymore. He'd come down for an actual fight now and then.
After five years of this inhuman torment, the Anjanath had been forcibly molded into what it was today. Its combat style was no longer wild and crude.
Because that kind of rough fighting style never landed a hit on Logan!
So the moment Logan appeared, the Anjanath immediately turned and left without hesitation. It couldn't beat him. There was nothing it could do but suffer and seethe.
If it couldn't fight him, it could at least avoid him.
As for those four little humans? It couldn't care less. Thanks to Logan's sabotage over the years, going hungry was nothing new—it had gotten used to it.
Seeing that his objective was achieved, Logan didn't bother descending any further. With a beat of his wings, he rose into the sky once more. To him, this was nothing more than a trivial errand.
Whether the Research Commission would later come after that Anjanath or not didn't matter to him. It'd be nice if they did—if not, oh well. What mattered most… was that the Anjanath was upset.
And that made him happy.
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