The Shagaru Magala immediately noticed Logan's presence. In fact, from the moment Logan stepped into the spore-filled zone, it had been watching him.
Through thermal vision, Logan's figure looked like a terrifying source of radiant light. Any scales that tried to drift close to him were burned away completely by the scorching heat.
If not for the fact that the air temperature hadn't risen dramatically, the Shagaru might have thought the Teostra of the Old World had chased it here.
Indeed, not long ago, on its way out of the Heaven's Mount, it had accidentally trespassed into a Teostra's territory. For some reason, the one that came to drive it out had been a furiously violent Lunastra rather than the Teostra itself.
But there was no denying it—because of their elemental opposition, that Lunastra, with its relentless waves of searing flame, had actually fought it to a standstill for quite some time. Only when it finally left that crystallized desert did they both disengage.
For that reason, at Logan's sudden appearance, the Shagaru remained calm. It stopped, wanting to observe Logan's next move before deciding whether to launch an attack.
It wasn't like the Chaotic Gore Magala, whose mind had been clouded by the clash of powers. Its cautious nature, nurtured since its days as a Gore Magala, meant that when faced with this Fire Wyvern that didn't seem particularly strong yet still felt unusual, it didn't recklessly strike out just because it still had strength to spare.
Instead, it planned to first observe Logan's behavior patterns, so it could prepare an appropriate response in advance.
Logan, on the other hand, hadn't expected to command such respect.
He had only just arrived, and yet both Elder Dragons had ceased their attacks.
But why did the suddenly revealed Chameleos look so relieved?
Why so excited?
Did they even know each other?
He had only come to watch the spectacle, and to confirm whether this Chameleos was the one from years past.
Now that he was certain it wasn't, he had little interest in meddling in a fight between Elder Dragons.
In Logan's view, regardless of the outcome, a Shagaru Magala making such a disturbance would inevitably draw relentless attention. Whether it could even escape was another matter entirely.
From what Logan could see on the Coral Highlands plateau—the presence of Nergigante, Kirin, and now this Chameleos—so many Elder Dragons gathering here without reason could only mean one thing: they were converging to deal with Shagaru Magala.
Logan knew his own limits. Against an ordinary Elder Dragon, he might still hold his ground. But against Shagaru Magala, a creature capable of standing toe-to-toe with Nergigante—and even pressing it slightly—he had no intention of getting involved.
Just as Logan was trying to think of a way to slip free from the attention of both Elder Dragons, Chameleos suddenly let out a loud croak.
"Huh? Is it asking me for help?"
Though he couldn't understand the words, Logan could still make out the intent behind the sound.
He had never once imagined that one day, he would be asked for aid by an Elder Dragon he didn't even know.
"Seriously? Are we close or something?"
But then he noticed Shagaru Magala's gaze darken instantly. The radiance along its wings grew even brighter, and it faintly assumed a posture as if ready to fight both Logan and Chameleos at once. Logan's heart skipped a beat.
He was only here to watch the commotion, maybe snatch a bit of advantage like he had with the Chaotic Gore Magala before.
He had no intention of stepping into the spotlight and becoming the main target of an Elder Dragon's wrath.
So the moment Chameleos cried out for help, Logan had already decided to slip away—at the very least, he needed to put distance between himself and the battlefield.
But when Chameleos saw Logan's movements, it panicked immediately.
Faced with Shagaru Magala's piercing glare, and then watching Logan's back retreat without hesitation, its big round eyes bulged wide.
Could it really be that today it would be forced to leap into the Rotten Vale?
No! Absolutely not!
That place was filthy, reeking beyond belief!
Aside from the Vaal Hazak and a few dying Elder Dragons, hardly any dragon ever willingly went down there.
For an Elder Dragon, the Rotten Vale was the equivalent of a mass grave for humans—if one was fearless, it wasn't terrifying, but it was revolting all the same.
Wait!
Chameleos' large eyes rolled, and suddenly it remembered something it had once taken from the quartermaster of the supply corps.
Staring desperately at Logan's vanishing figure, it croaked out loudly:
"Ribbit!" (Don't go—look at this!)
Before Shagaru Magala could fully gauge the situation and strike again, Chameleos flicked out its tongue, deftly prying from the seams of its chest scales a fiery red "craftwork scale."
Hearing Chameleos' cry, Logan hadn't planned on paying it any attention.
But out of curiosity, he glanced back.
That one glance nearly crashed his brain.
What did he just see?
A Fire Wyvern Identification Scale!
And not just any kind—it had a hole punched through it, with a ribbon embroidered with the First Fleet's emblem tied to it. It was the very kind the Research Commission had specially traded from the cats of the Ancient Tree Fire Wyvern clan back in the Wildspire Waste, during their so-called "honeymoon period" with the cats.
This particular version was meant for hunters or researchers to use in the wild whenever they encountered a group of Fire Wyverns from the Ancient Tree—either to request aid or to prove their identity.
"You… how in the world do you have that?"
If it had simply been stolen by Chameleos, Logan wouldn't have been too surprised. After all, the Chameleos of the Old World were notorious for their pranks, stealing hunters' secret potions. That a Chameleos in the New World would swipe things too was nothing strange.
But stealing was one thing—this one actually knew what the item was used for!
That was unbelievable!
"Ribbit!" (That's right! No more pretending! I'm an official member of the New World Elder Dragon Research Commission, stationed at Astera!)
"Ribbit, ribbit!" (Come help me out, and afterward you can go to the Commission to collect your reward!)
During those two years when the Ancient Forest had been shrouded in miasma, Chameleos hadn't been idling around.
Through repeated observation—and from listening to those little ones chatter—it had already figured out exactly what this scale was for, and what it cost.
At first, stealing it had just been for fun—to see the supply corps' quartermaster fuming in frustration after discovering it gone.
And when, after tearing his hair out searching, the thing suddenly reappeared on his bed, he'd begun doubting his own sanity. That had been Chameleos' little revenge for the man making locks harder and harder to pick.
Who would have thought this trinket would now become its lifeline for calling reinforcements?
"This was stolen… or maybe…" Logan wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Kwaa!" Chameleos let out a final roar, just like Shagaru Magala would before launching its attack.
"Astera Roast!"
Password accepted!
That's right—after Rathalos assistance missions, the most lavish reward given by the Research Commission had always been Astera Roast!
And this Chameleos… really was the one!
At that moment, Logan suddenly remembered. When he had first moved to the Wildspire Waste, he had once felt a gaze at the Astera Base that made his heart skip a beat. But when the Admiral and the others found out, the matter had simply been brushed aside.
So, that gaze back then—it had belonged to this Chameleos?
Was it one of the Commission's trump cards?
No wonder the Astera Base's location was so conspicuous, especially at night when the lights aboard the Celestial Pursuit ship blazed brightly, drawing attention from afar.
And yet, very few monsters dared come near—much less stir up trouble.
With an Elder Dragon stationed there, plus the Research Commission's own battle strength, who in their right mind would go looking for trouble?
So now—help, or not?
As Shagaru Magala and Chameleos clashed again, Chameleos was once more suppressed, its constant croaking cries echoing through the mist. Logan couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something.
But that scale was genuine. The cats could forge clever imitations, but the mingled scent of the Rathalos pack was not something that could be faked.
Now, with Chameleos being pushed back step by step and its white mist on the verge of collapse…
Logan gritted his teeth—he would help!
With that scale as proof, he didn't need to fear the Commission reneging on their reward.
Driving back an Elder Dragon was more than enough to earn a hefty payout!
At that instant, Logan's thoughts churned—ideas of "Mosswine Breeding Grounds," "Free Enforcer Projects," and more flickered through his mind.
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