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MHD Chapter 72: The Balance Breaks
🕑 Added 2025-07-28 01:09:10 +0000 UTCWith just one glance at the corpses strewn across the battlefield, the Admiral’s chest tightened.
“Evacuate the wounded! You all fall back—I’ll cover the retreat!”
As soon as the Admiral’s voice rang out, the remaining hunters seized the opportunity to withdraw.
Perhaps sensing instinctively that this new arrival posed a genuine threat, the Nergigante paid no further attention to the retreating ants and instead fixed its gaze on the Admiral with a look of growing interest.
Likewise, as the Admiral stared back at the unknown Elder Dragon before him, his body trembled slightly.
Whether from excitement—or perhaps just a trace of fear.
This creature, like a demon born from hell, radiated an oppressive pressure that surged forward in waves, even as it simply stood there.
Just from appearance alone, it seemed as if this creature had been born for destruction.
That oppressive aura—far surpassed even the Lunastra he had once faced back in the Old World.
“What a troublesome one... Old friend, you'd better be careful.”
Standing firm with his shield raised, the Admiral spoke without taking his eyes off the enemy.
Beside him, Sita remained silent. Only his twin paws, tightly gripping the sword hilt, betrayed his tension.
A battle against an Elder Dragon...
No one could be certain they would survive.
And at this moment, they had no reinforcements. All they’d taken before the fight was a single Demondrug.
No need for words—the battle erupted!
By the time the hunters from the First Fleet arrived—having escorted the Second Fleet’s survivors back to base—they saw only a black silhouette flying off into the depths of the New World.
When they reached the site of the Admiral’s battle, the terrain was already in ruins. Trees lay toppled, rocks and soil were scattered, and strange spikes—both black and white—were embedded all over the place. Lodged deep into stone, they’d require considerable effort to pull free.
Upon landing, they didn’t immediately spot the Admiral, causing panic to ripple through the First Fleet hunters as they split up to search.
At last, they found him behind a massive boulder, severely wounded. His weapon was nowhere to be seen, and his shield was tattered and torn—several thick spikes still stuck into it.
His armor was damaged in multiple places, the shoulder guard on his right side completely shattered. A through-and-through wound ran across it, bleeding profusely.
Next to him lay Sita, also badly damaged, his breathing faint. His right eye had taken a serious hit, and the greatsword he cherished so dearly was now broken in half.
They leaned against the boulder, resting on each other for support.
When he heard the approaching footsteps, the Admiral forced his eyes open. Upon seeing the First Fleet hunters who had come to aid them, he managed a strained smile.
“You made it? Looks like that bastard finally left... heh...”
As his voice trailed off, the Admiral lost consciousness. The relatively intact white spike he had been gripping slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.
“Admiral! Begin emergency treatment, now!”
Amid the chaotic flurry of rescue efforts, the team was able to stabilize both the Admiral and Sita’s vital signs.
A summoned Felyne transport cart arrived and carefully loaded them aboard. Maintaining speed while ensuring a steady ride, it carried them back to Astera.
...
“How’s the situation?”
Inside the ship’ cabin, Carlos paced anxiously back and forth outside the door.
Separated by just a single door, the wounded were being treated inside.
As the medic stepped out, the others immediately gathered around, bombarding him with anxious questions.
“Luckily, we managed to save a few—barely.”
“What about the Admiral? And Sita? How are they?” Carlos, still in his younger years and far from the composed figure he would one day become, spoke in an urgent tone.
“The Admiral is all right. Most of the attacks were blocked by his armor and shield, and his body is tough. With treatment, he should recover without serious complications. But Sita... things don’t look good.”
The medic let out a long sigh.
To be honest, in the ten years since the Research Commission had arrived in the New World, this was the worst casualty incident they had ever seen.
“Sita’s right eye couldn’t be saved. And with the extent of the injuries, I’m afraid he won’t be able to go on hunts anymore.”
Hearing this, Carlos clenched his fists tightly.
Although Sita was a Felyne, in terms of combat ability, he was undeniably a core member of the team. Who would’ve thought...
“Haaah... Well, we’re talking about an Elder Dragon. Just surviving is already a miracle.”
Carlos exhaled deeply. After steadying his nerves, he left the cabin.
With the Admiral gravely injured, he would have to take over handling affairs related to the Second Fleet’s recent arrival.
Tonkotsu sat on the floor of the cabin, blankly staring at the closed door.
He had never imagined that someone as powerful as the Admiral—or Teacher Sita—could be so gravely wounded.
When they had been brought back, Tonkotsu could hardly believe his eyes.
And now they were saying that Teacher Sita might never be able to hunt again.
That news hit him like a thunderclap.
After several days of treatment, the Second Fleet ultimately lost four of their accompanying hunters.
The remaining ones, thanks to their exceptional physical resilience and the Wyverian medics’ expert treatment, had managed to avoid the loss of any limbs.
With proper rest, they would eventually make full recoveries.
Considering this storm had involved a brand-new, unidentified Elder Dragon, the overall losses were still within what the Commission could bear.
Thanks to the Second Fleet’s accounts, the incident was finally reconstructed.
At the time, the Second Fleet had been tracking a Teostra that had arrived in the New World.
Their original plan was to send a signal once the position of the monster was confirmed, allowing the fleet to adjust its course and establish a base.
But then, out of nowhere, that unknown Elder Dragon had appeared—charging through Teostra’s flames, ignoring its blazing domain, and engaging it in a fierce battle.
In the end, Teostra used a fiery explosion to obscure the enemy’s sight and managed to escape.
With its prey gone, the Elder Dragon turned its gaze toward the Second Fleet’s three ships.
To avoid having their vessels destroyed and sunk, the Second Fleet had no choice but to make an emergency landing.
Under the cover of the accompanying hunters, they sent out a distress signal and began their retreat.
It could be said that the Second Fleet had simply been caught in the crossfire—unwitting victims of the creature’s fury.
“If it weren’t for their cover, we wouldn’t have suffered so many casualties...” A craftsman from the Second Fleet said quietly, eyes dim with sorrow.
The First Fleet members could only offer their condolences.
To confront an Elder Dragon head-on and survive a no-holds-barred battle with it—without retreating—that was already a supreme honor.
And to actually repel such a beast and live to tell the tale?
That was the mark of a true legendary hunter.
The Admiral and the Huntsman were just such figures.
Even back in the Old World, they had successfully led their teams in driving off Elder Dragons and stabilizing entire ecosystems.
With the presence of those two overwhelmingly powerful combatants, the remaining hunters of the First Fleet all had proven records of successfully hunting apex monsters.
This was precisely why, after arriving in the New World, the First Fleet usually conducted expeditions with a single hunter accompanying one scholar and one field editor, rather than sending out multiple hunters as a team.
Thus came the end of the Second Fleet’s turbulent landing.
With the return of the Huntsman and the Wyverian Hunter—and in the Admiral’s absence—a meeting was held to assign responsibilities to each party.
The artisans immediately got to work, while the young Wyverian scholar from the Second Fleet took over command of the Research Team, assuming full responsibility for personnel deployment and management.
Under his coordination, Astera Base began its next phase of orderly expansion.
The Huntsman also took over the Admiral’s duties, organizing hunters to launch expeditions deeper into the New World to track and investigate the Teostra, the Elder Dragon involved in the recent crossing.
...
In the Fire Wyvern nest deep within the Ancient Forest, Logan wore a heavy expression as he finished listening to the Grimalkyne chief’s report.
So it really wasn’t just his imagination—that vague sense of unease he’d felt upon returning from the Wildspire Waste had been right after all.
Something strange was indeed happening in the Ancient Forest.
According to the Grimalkyne chief’s report, the number of herbivores in the forest had been declining at an abnormal rate recently.
Particularly, many monsters that typically inhabited the lower layers of the Ancient Forest had started migrating upward, entering the middle layers to hunt—leading to increasing conflict with the native mid-level dwellers.
By all reasoning, the lower strata of the Ancient Forest had a highly stable ecosystem.
Food shortages should not be happening under normal conditions.
The Fire Wyverns themselves already had high daily energy demands due to constant flight and territorial patrols, requiring multiple hunts a day.
Lately, their foraging flights had been getting longer and more frequent—further confirming the food supply was indeed dwindling.
That was not good news.
“This doesn’t make sense…”
In Logan’s memory, the Elder Dragon that had crossed into the region was a Teostra.
Its domain should have been in the Wildspire Waste.
And the Nergigante that had followed it should’ve been trailing close behind.
Besides, although Nergigante also preys on ordinary creatures, it primarily targets those with high internal energy—namely, large monsters—and typically ignores low-energy herbivores.
For Elder Dragons capable of utilizing life force, nutritional content means little.
What truly matters to them is whether the creature possesses sufficient life energy.
After instructing the Grimalkyne chief of the Fire Wyverns to keep a close eye on the forest and investigate what was really going on, Logan couldn’t shake off a creeping sense of unease.
Deep within the forest’s hunting grounds, Aki had just effortlessly taken down an herbivore.
As she contentedly feasted on her catch, she pondered which hunting ground she should head to next.
But in the dense undergrowth not far from her, a terrifying monster had concealed itself among the trees using its natural camouflage—its eyes locked firmly on Aki.
Drool dripped from the corner of its mouth, sizzling as it fell, corroding the dry leaves and underbrush on the forest floor.
Step by step, it crept closer.
Sensing something was wrong, Aki lifted her head, sniffing the air.
But just as the distance closed to a critical point, the Deviljho lunged forward with its powerful legs, dropping all concealment and launching itself toward her like a living projectile.
Aki immediately pinpointed its location—but the beast had already closed in too fast.
Before she could take flight, it struck.
A roar rang out through the forest—Aki’s voice, seething with pain and fury.
The battle didn’t last long.
Those hungry, bloodthirsty eyes of the Deviljho watched emotionlessly as the wounded Rathian fled in disarray.
It had targeted her for one reason only—her size.
She was big enough to keep it fed for several days.
But to think she’d managed to escape, even after being gravely wounded!
The failed hunt left the Deviljho deeply frustrated—because now, it was even hungrier.
As for the many injuries Aki had inflicted during the fight—cuts, gashes, and bite wounds—they were nothing to a monster with skin and muscle as absurdly tough as a Deviljho’s.
Far less serious than the torment of an empty stomach.
