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MHD Chapter 77: The Weight of Survival
🕑 Added 2025-08-01 23:38:27 +0000 UTCLetting out a loud roar lifted a great weight off his chest. The shackles buried deep within his heart were finally broken, and Logan felt as though he’d been reborn.
His entire body felt incredibly light, and even the wounds he had sustained in battle didn’t ache as much anymore.
His gaze fell on the corpse of the Fulgur Anjanath. The fatal wound on its neck was the result of Logan risking the loss of his wing, enduring the monster’s attack head-on just to tear out its throat.
That Wyvern Gem, about the size of a fist and now soaked in blood, had nearly lost all its energy.
Logan thought for a moment, then picked it up. He’d keep it as a memento—a reminder.
He stretched his injured wings. After that brief burst of enhanced regeneration, they no longer hindered normal flight.
With a slow flap that stirred the air, Logan locked onto his heading and took off into the sky.
But not even a minute later, just as the long-anticipated scavengers were descending for their feast, Logan suddenly turned back.
It had hit him mid-flight—he was eager to return to the nest, and that thought brought Aki to mind… and the basket of healing potions she had prepared for him. He had practically drained the Research Commission’s entire stockpile in one go. On top of that, those potions had been bought using the rewards earned by the Fire Wyvern Grimalkyne, who had painstakingly gathered and delivered materials to the Commission.
Normally, those potions wouldn’t be that expensive. But this wasn’t the Old World—resources were scarce out here. Every single item was precious, and life-saving potions even more so.
Whether to make up for what the Fire Wyvern Grimalkyne had spent, or simply to bolster the Commission’s reserves, the corpse of the Deviljho was far too valuable to leave behind.
After Aki’s serious injury, Logan had begun to truly see the benefits of cooperating with the Commission. If nothing else, their healing logistics alone were worth some effort on his part.
Which meant—there was no way he was letting that Deviljho’s body go to waste.
As for the Fulgur Anjanath? He’d just let it return to the dust—call it an act of mercy.
That said, the Deviljho’s body was in terrible shape after the battle. The only relatively intact parts were its tail and the head that the Glavenus had already gnawed on.
Logan hesitated for a second. “Screw it. I’ll take it all.”
After a bit of biting and tearing, he took to the skies once more. This time, each claw gripped one of the Deviljho’s body parts—its tail in one, its head in the other—and he flew proudly back toward the Ancient Tree.
"Grrrrr~"
Barely halfway there, his stomach let out a very undignified growl.
He couldn’t help it. After the Deviljho fight, he was already running on fumes. The battle with the Fulgur Anjanath had pushed him even further, draining what little strength he had left.
And on top of that, he had willingly burned through his own life energy to enhance his regeneration and heal his wounds. Feeling hungry now was only natural.
There was no other choice. Before heading home, he detoured to the hunting grounds to get himself a meal.
Under the silvery moon, Logan soared back to his nest, guided by the starlight.
Aki hadn’t gone to sleep. She sat upright, staring at the cave entrance, waiting silently for his return.
When Logan dropped the bloody severed tail and head onto the ground, the worry she’d been holding in finally eased.
Logan nudged her gently aside, as always, so he could curl up in the nest she had already warmed for him.
Despite her own injuries, Aki still tended to him with the same careful attention as ever, gently licking the wounds on his body.
The Fire Wyvern Grimalkyne came forward and quietly carried away the severed tail and head, leaving the space to the two of them.
Logan, having completed his revenge, nestled closely with Aki, who had always believed in him. They took in each other’s scent, and before long, both drifted off into sleep.
The nonstop travel and battles had taken their toll. The next day, Logan spent most of his time lazily staying by Aki’s side, venturing out only briefly to hunt.
Material harvesting was standard practice for the Felyne companions. The Fire Wyvern Grimalkyne who had stayed behind in the Ancient Tree spent the entire night working and finally managed to extract all the usable parts.
As for the Deviljho meat they skinned off—whether it was poisonous or simply too disgusting to eat, even the Jagras refused to touch it. In the end, the Grimalkynes just tossed the meat down into the lower levels of the Ancient Tree and left it to rot.
...
Back at the Astera Outpost, the Research Commission convened for another urgent war council.
“Based on the hunters’ reports, temperatures in this sector of the Wildspire Waste have risen sharply in recent days. A large number of creatures have already fled the area."
"Additionally, the tufts of mane retrieved by one of the hunter teams have been verified by our scholars—they undoubtedly belong to a Teostra.”
“For these reasons, we have every reason to believe the Teostra is currently active in that zone.”
Commander Carlos swept his gaze across the gathered hunters, both hands planted firmly on the table as he continued, “Everyone, this marks the first time we’ve conclusively observed an Elder Dragon’s presence in the New World. We must seize this opportunity to uncover the secrets of how they traverse to this land!”
The crowd erupted in applause. The hunters were fired up, fists tightening with anticipation, while the scholars looked equally thrilled.
Carlos nodded in satisfaction, then turned his eyes toward the Huntsman seated with arms folded and the Wyverian Hunter leaning against the wall.
“Swordmaster, with the Admiral still recovering from his injuries, the two of you will be leading this mission,” Carlos instructed solemnly. “During this expedition, aside from your primary target—the Teostra—there’s a strong chance you’ll encounter the unidentified Elder Dragon again. In other words, you may be facing two Elder Dragons at once.”
“You’ll decide how to proceed on your own. But if the situation becomes too dangerous, please remember—your lives take absolute priority! Do not push yourselves too hard! We cannot afford any more losses.”
After hearing Carlos’s words, both the Swordmaster and the Wyverian Hunter gave a nod of acknowledgment.
They were both veteran hunters who had weathered countless storms. Naturally, they knew exactly how to handle things.
At this stage, the Commission’s main objective remained the expansion and improvement of the base facilities. Investigating the Teostra was important—but only as much as their current strength would allow.
As Carlos had said, the Commission’s hunter forces were stretched thin. They couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.
Behind the Astera Outpost, on a mountain terrace, Sita sat alone in a gazebo, his body wrapped in bandages. The broken blade lay beside him.
Ever since waking up and realizing he would never hunt again, Sita had gone through his share of sorrow and despair. But with the Admiral’s encouragement, he had slowly come to terms with it.
“Master Sita, meow… is there really no way for you to recover?”
It had been a while since they last spoke. Tonkotsu had grown noticeably bigger and stronger, his body more developed from the intense training. He asked again, unable to accept the reality.
Only after enduring the harsh trials of training had he truly understood just how much effort and pain it took to become a hunter’s companion. For a Felyne, it was far harder than for a human to become a hunter.
Let alone someone as powerful as Sita.
Sita fell silent for a long moment, his gaze drifting toward the sea. “If I went back to the Old World, there might still be a sliver of hope, meow. But now… there’s no need.”
He gently caressed the broken blade. “After all these years of fighting, I’m tired too, meow. From here on, I want to chase an old dream of mine—becoming a top-class Felyne chef!”
Seeing that Sita had truly made peace with his decision, Tonkotsu opened his mouth as if to speak, but in the end, said nothing. This was Sita’s choice—he had no right to interfere.
What’s more, Sita had said it himself: this had once been his dream. Given that, Tonkotsu had even less reason to object.
“Don’t make that face, nya! Just because I’ve become a cook doesn’t mean I can’t still guide your training—you’ve got a long way to go, nya!”
Noticing Tonkotsu’s somewhat gloomy expression, Sita let out a cold snort, crossing his arms as he barked sharply.
The only problem was, wrapped in bandages from head to paw as he was, it was hard to take his tough-guy act seriously.
