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MHD Chapter 133: Spring Heralds New Hunts
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 22:59:35 +0000 UTCThe Admiral’s reaction was all too clear to the Longsword Hunter. Though the Grimalkynes’ special dishes didn’t suit his own tastes, he had to admit that the meals they prepared were truly top quality, providing hunters with substantial benefits.
“Admiral, I…”
He hesitated. Seeing the Admiral eating, he felt it was rude to interrupt, and regretted speaking up as soon as the words left his mouth.
“What is it?” the Admiral asked, chewing on roasted meat as he looked at the Longsword Hunter with curiosity.
This hunter was a member of the First Fleet. They had known each other for over a decade. The Admiral knew him well—cautious, calm, but also indecisive and introverted.
If he didn’t take the initiative to continue the conversation, this guy probably wouldn’t ever say what he wanted to say.
“It’s like this. About the rumors spreading in the base these past few days regarding the Fire Wyvern leader… they’re not entirely true. It—”
“Oh, you mean that so-called Fire Wyvern King of the Ancient Tree? I’ve heard about that too. Hah, these people just love making a fuss, exaggerating everything.” The Admiral shook his head and picked up a piece of fruit to cleanse his palate.
“You too…”
Though the Admiral’s words made it clear he knew those rumors were exaggerated, wasn’t it you yourself who first gave it the title of ‘Fire Wyvern leader’? How had it now become the ‘Fire Wyvern King’ even for you?
Still, since even the upper ranks of the Research Commission knew the stories being passed around were exaggerated, then it was just a title. Nothing worth getting worked up over.
“Fire Wyvern King it is, then.” The Longsword Hunter gave up. Since everyone was calling it that anyway, he would simply go with the flow.
“As long as the scholars don’t twist things further, it’s fine. And since the Admiral already knows these stories are exaggerated, the scholars shouldn’t be an issue.” With that thought, the Longsword Hunter lifted his cup and drained the juice in a single gulp.
...
On the first floor of Astera, the scholars were busy organizing the notes brought back by the editor, carefully recording certain key details.
“The Ancient Tree Fire Wyvern King—its flames rival the legendary Teostra. With a single blast of fire breath, it wiped out an entire swarm of Sea Wyverns suspected to be a special subspecies. In all reports from the New World, this is the only such case observed—likely a special individual possessing Elder Dragon-level destructive power.”
The scholar finished writing, satisfied, and closed the book. When the next liaison ship arrived, the report could be sent back to the Old World. A special individual with Elder Dragon-level power! His old colleagues back there would surely be green with envy.
As for whether the record was true?
Heh. It was copied straight from the editor’s notes, and with so many hunters in the base spreading the story, how could it possibly be false?
...
Behind Astera, at the botanical research area.
Two Felynes were diligently watering the cultivated herbs, unaware that beyond the fence, a transparent figure watched with satisfaction, eyeing the thriving plants, mushrooms, and the insects crawling atop them.
Having lived here for so long, with its high intelligence, the Chameleos could understand many things just by watching.
It knew very well that whether it was the little snacks it often ate or the roasted meats with special effects, all of it came from the plants grown here. So, after wandering around, aside from lounging beneath the ship hull hanging off the cliff, it would often come here to nap.
In short, it was living the life of a salted fish.
At that moment, the keenly perceptive Chameleos suddenly sensed something flying this way.
It immediately rose and looked toward the source, only to see a Pukei-Pukei passing through the area. Spotting the plantation, with New World specialties like Burst Nut and Cotton Sporepuff growing inside, and noting that the garden sat behind the base with little in the way of defenses—only two small Felynes tending it—
The Pukei-Pukei was clearly tempted to swoop down for a feast.
This left the Chameleos conflicted.
Its large eyes shifted, first toward the two unsuspecting Felynes still cheerfully watering and pruning the plants, then back toward the Pukei-Pukei descending at low altitude in the distance.
After a small shake of its head, mist began to spread through the air.
In moments, the fog covered the entire Astera base along with a wide stretch of the surrounding area.
“What’s going on? Why did the fog suddenly roll in?”
The hunters were puzzled. The New World’s climate had always been relatively stable, and it wasn’t even early morning—so how could such a heavy fog appear out of nowhere?
Sensing that something was off, the hunters grew wary and released their scoutflies.
But for some reason, the scoutflies seemed to be affected by the mist. They scattered aimlessly, flitting about in confusion as if they had lost their sense of direction entirely.
For a Chameleos that had lived in the New World for many years without ever being discovered by any Elder Dragon, its toxic mists were incredibly diverse. To produce one that carried little danger but could disrupt vision and interfere with the senses of living creatures—such a thing was mere child’s play for it.
And so, while the members of the Research Commission could only remain quietly on guard, the Chameleos stealthily took flight. Once it reached a suitable position, its tongue shot out, lashing forward like a vine to coil tightly around the neck of the bewildered Pukei-Pukei. Silencing it in an instant, a burst of toxic breath engulfed its face.
With the crack of snapping bones, the Pukei-Pukei’s neck was twisted with ease. The deadly venom seeped through its body, draining away its life in moments.
Clutching the corpse in its foreclaws, the Chameleos slipped silently through the thick mist, gliding over the base and out toward the coast. There, it tossed the Pukei-Pukei’s body into the sea before calmly returning to its spot beneath the hull of the ship, yawning in boredom.
If not for sensing the goodwill shown by the Research Commission, it wouldn’t have bothered to intervene at all.
‘Maybe I should just reshape that protruding platform behind the cliff and make a nest there,’ the Chameleos mused silently. ‘Seems like it would be a fine place to idle away the days.’ For the moment, though, it remained undecided.
Without the Chameleos’ control, the fog quickly dispersed. The disoriented scoutflies soon regained their bearings and returned to the cages at the hunters’ waists.
At the botanical research area, the two Felynes looked at each other in confusion. With the mist gone, they still had no idea what had just happened.
The entire Research Commission combed through the base from top to bottom, but aside from the usual missing portions of Astera Jerky and Max Potions from the storehouses, nothing was out of place. And so, the matter quietly passed under the thoughtful gazes of the Commission’s leaders.
Outside of those leaders, only the Fire Wyvern Grimalkynes visiting Astera let out a sigh of relief, exchanging uneasy glances.
They knew full well what that inexplicable fog truly signified. Having once witnessed such a thing before, the cat chefs had been close to panicking.
Still, they were fortunate. This time, it seemed the Chameleos bore no malice—it had merely spread its mist without intent. Whoever the unlucky target had been, they could only wonder.
...
Winter passed, and spring returned.
The cold currents began to retreat, life revived, and plants pushed out new shoots.
Herbivores of every kind left their dens. After resting through the winter, many herds of herbivorous monsters that had once dwindled in number had recovered, while the carnivorous monsters that had lain dormant all season began to stir once again.
No one knew how many creatures had perished during the winter, but once spring arrived, the Fire Wyverns’ hunting improved dramatically.
On this day, Logan flew across the swamp.
Around the swamp, the grass grew lush and thick, and since there weren’t many large carnivorous monsters, it had become a haven for herbivores. After the Fire Wyvern groups migrated here, the main large predators commonly seen were the Jyuratodus dwelling in the swamps, the Rathian of the Wildspire Waste—and now the Rathalos as well.
Logan’s body skimmed low across the air. Below him, a Kulu-Ya-Ku was leisurely heading back to its nest with a herbivorous monster egg in its claws. Startled by the massive shadow overhead, it panicked and flung the egg from its grip.
With a sharp crack, the egg smashed on the ground, its contents spilling into the swampy mud.
The Kulu-Ya-Ku stared blankly at its now-empty claws, then at the egg fluid vanishing into the swamp. It let out a miserable squawk, drooped its head, and trudged back the way it came.
It would have to steal another egg. Whether it could avoid the Kestodons’ pursuit this time, who could say?
Having teased the bird, Logan was in good spirits. Just as he was about to climb higher into the sky, a red rescue flare suddenly blazed far off in the distance. Almost at the same time, the faint cries of Fire Wyvern hatchlings carried through the air.
It was obvious: the Research Commission’s hunters and the Grimalkynes of the Fire Wyvern tribes had run into trouble. Forced into desperation, they had fired the flare while also sounding the rescue horn.
Logan, already full and slightly bored, decided this was the perfect way to digest his meal. He turned and flew toward the signal.
