"Why are they so weak?"
Finding a spot that looked decent, Logan circled once overhead. He saw no threatening creatures, nor any signs that this was part of another monster's territory. Only then did he land on a high platform to rest.
The explosion just now had been undeniably powerful. Even Logan, if caught unprepared in the middle of it, would have taken heavy damage. But only damage—never instant death, as that Gore Magala had just suffered.
"Could it have been another newborn Gore Magala?"
That was the only explanation. A Gore Magala grew stronger with each molting. Only a newborn—one that had shed just once, or not even once—would be that fragile.
From this deduction, Logan reasoned that the one spreading the Frenzy Virus might not have arrived in the New World very long ago. Most likely, it had only been in the past few years.
The possibility was strong, though he would need to hunt more Gore Magala to confirm the truth.
At that moment, the phantom panel appeared. The progress bar for Trait Extraction rose by another ten percent.
That settled it—the Gore Magala just now was definitely dead.
When he had killed those frenzied monsters before, the panel hadn't reacted. Yet the "reward" from this Gore Magala was exactly the same as the one in the Ancient Forest.
Now Logan had another reason to hunt Gore Magala.
Excitement stirred within him.
If his guess was right, then these newborn Gore Magala weren't sources of chaos at all—they were nothing less than walking, easy-mode experience bars!
Still, they hid themselves well. Without sheer luck, he wouldn't even have encountered this last one.
So… what should he do next?
Logan mulled it over for a while, but no good plan came to mind.
In the end, he decided to fill his stomach first.
...
Inside the Coral Highlands, deep within the highest mountain range, in a dark cavern—
A Chaotic Gore Magala, its body more than half molted and platinum-hued scales now exposed, was tearing great chunks from the corpse of a Pink Rathian.
This had once been the Rathian's nest: well hidden, with abundant water sources.
With each mouthful of flesh, the lightning scars along the Gore Magala's wings slowly faded. As its scales shed and renewed rapidly, there was soon no trace left of those old wounds.
Ever since last year—when, during its molt, it failed to control the scale dust and allowed the Frenzy Virus to spread through the Coral Highlands on the updrafts—the Chaotic Gore Magala had been under constant watch by the elder dragons here.
The Kirin that commanded the thunderstorm.
The Namielle that stayed tethered to maintain the water of the Coral Highlands.
And later, the spiked Nergigante that appeared.
All of them kept their eyes locked firmly on it.
Were it not for the special terrain here, which allowed it to escape with little cost when focused solely on fleeing—
It would never have survived those battles.
"Almost… almost!"
Just one final molt. With the life energy of this place, once it completed that last shedding, it would evolve into its perfect form!
At that time, it could finally leave this dangerous place and return to its homeland—
To the Forbidden Ground of the Heaven's Mount!
Yes, this was the deepest thought within the Chaotic Gore Magala's heart.
They were like wanderers: born, venturing out, growing, and finally returning home.
Perhaps spreading the Frenzy Virus was never truly their intention. But their very existence itself was already the greatest mistake.
...
At the Astera outpost, the Chameleos gazed one last time at the bustling base below, reluctant to part. Then, turning away, it flew in the direction of the Coral Highlands.
It had no choice—it had compromised.
For some reason, even it felt a sense of crisis this time. If it continued to ignore things, it might truly become a catastrophe sweeping across the entire New World.
...
Meanwhile, in the Elder's Recess—inside a magma cavern carved out by searing heat—the pair of Teostra and Lunastra, their bodies crimson and azure, emerged side by side. Their appearance so startled a Bazelgeuse, who had planned to roam about, that it instantly turned tail. Terrified of being too slow and ending up as the couple's dinner, it fled at once.
In the deepest depths of the Rotten Vale, the Vaal Hazak carried its miasma as it calmly lumbered toward the upper layers. From within the darkness, an Odogaron sniffed lightly, searching for the right chance to pounce and test its luck at bringing down what seemed like a plentiful meal.
...
Wildspire Waste, inside the Great Ravine.
On a hidden ledge of a sheer cliff, the Huntsman crouched, using his spyglass to observe the battle below.
At this moment, the high-tier monsters lingering in the Great Ravine had all been driven into bloodlust. Each had carved out its own battlefield, and anything that fled out of the ravine—whether infected with Frenzy or not—was mercilessly hunted down.
From his days of observation, the Huntsman had keenly noticed that fewer and fewer frenzied monsters were emerging from the ravine's depths. Now, most of them seemed entirely normal.
In the skies, led by that tempered Azure Rathalos, every Fire Wyvern—whether Raphinos or Nightshade Paolumu—had the same target. Anything that flew out of the Great Ravine was marked for death.
On the ground, the main force was a massive Glavenus. Once it was roused to fury, no matter what kind of monster appeared, everything became the object of its attacks.
Yet even with such a brutal Glavenus blocking the way, countless monsters still went mad trying to rush out of the Great Ravine—as if some terrifying presence behind them was driving them forward.
This situation had persisted for several days. Just as the Huntsman was wondering whether he should attempt to venture deeper into the ravine to uncover the truth—
A monster emerged.
Its entire body radiated madness, blue lightning entwined with a pitch-black aura, turning the dazzling thunder into something sinister.
With scarlet pupils and a colossal frame, the Zinogre looked like a demon of thunder from the depths of hell, or a dark warrior resurrected from the boundary of death. Step by step, it strode out of the Great Ravine.
That ghastly, fiendish presence—just its very walk—was enough to chill the blood.
When its gaze fell upon the Glavenus prowling near the ravine's entrance, the eyes of the Apex Zinogre burst with endless killing intent.
As an individual that had transcended its limits by completing its ultimate ascension from the brink of death, its body had broken through all bounds, and its strength was overwhelming.
But after enduring the torment of the Frenzy Virus—though it had overcome the virus—it had lost its reason entirely.
Now, the Apex Zinogre was nothing more than a lunatic armed with terrifying power.
The instant the Apex Zinogre appeared, the tempered Glavenus also spotted its figure.
It had encountered Zinogres before, and fought them as well. But one like this—wreathed in black miasma, its body perpetually supercharged with electricity—this it had never seen.
Although its opponent's appearance was extraordinary, radiating a crushing sense of pressure, Glavenus showed not the slightest hint of retreat.
As the Apex Zinogre came charging with thunder in its stride, molten matter welled up from Glavenus's throat. Calmly, it smeared the substance across its tail blade. Sparks burst forth as it sharpened the edge, gathering strength all the while.
Like a veteran swordsman supremely confident in his own skill, it intended to strike at the most dangerous moment—the instant when its foe would be most exposed—using a technique that promised both great reward and great risk: the Draw Slash!
Closer!
A blazing crescent, like a flaming moon, slashed outward.
The strike cleaved through with enough force to send pieces of dark-tinged armor scattering. Yet the Apex Zinogre took the blow head-on, shrouded in black aura. Its once-golden charged shell and pale white mane had, at some point, been stained a blackish violet—eerily reminiscent of the Frenzy Virus.
The pain surging through its arm did not weaken the beast—if anything, it only drove it into deeper madness.
Its counters came blindingly fast. Before Glavenus could retract its tail blade, the Apex Zinogre's follow-up was already upon it.
A thunder-charged palm slammed into Glavenus's massive frame, sending it flying. Before it could roll back to its feet, Zinogre leapt high, descending with a thunderous crash. Lightning exploded as Glavenus was blasted away once more.
This strike shattered the scales along Glavenus's back. Flattened against the ground, it let out a pained howl, unable to rise.
And yet—the battle had only just begun. In its apex state, a monster's body was pushed to its very limits. From some perspectives, the Apex Zinogre was nothing less than a physical powerhouse on par with an Elder Dragon.
It only lacked what defined true Elders: the near-impenetrable defenses, immense energy reserves, and extraordinary abilities.
If one had to draw distinctions of power—most Apex monsters possessed a stable, top-tier might. But a rare few, like this one, possessed battle strength equal to the Elder Dragons themselves.
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