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MHD Chapter 65: Regeneration and Resolve
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 03:25:04 +0000 UTCThe night faded without incident.
At dawn, Aki was startled awake by Logan’s movements.
She opened her eyes slightly, only to spot Logan already standing at the cave entrance—and her eyes flew wide open.
No way...
Those injuries—he healed them in just one night?
Aki jolted fully awake. Logan had been in much worse shape than her. And yet, when she so much as shifted her body, the pain from her fractured bones and damaged scales was still excruciating.
Meanwhile, Logan looked as if he hadn’t even been injured. Aside from a few remaining wounds on his back and wings, even his damaged leg was firmly planted on the ground again?
Worried, Aki let out a soft call. Was she dreaming or something?
Logan turned his head and responded, telling her he was heading out to hunt—then spread his wings and flew off, leaving Aki frozen in place, dumbstruck.
Soaring through the sky, Logan had spent the entire night cycling between consuming and replenishing his life energy. As a result, most of his injuries had already healed.
The only wounds that remained were minor surface scratches—everything deeper had essentially recovered.
But over the course of the night, he discovered something about his new trait, Regeneration. Not quite a flaw, but a definite drawback:
The accelerated metabolism made him extremely hungry.
That’s why, as soon as the sky began to lighten, he couldn’t wait to head out.
Right now, he felt like he could easily devour an entire Aptonoth on his own!
Unfortunately, it was still too early.
After making a quick sweep of the area, he spotted little besides a Rathian also out hunting, and a Diablos digging around a cactus.
Left with no other option, Logan settled for snatching two wingdrakes to quiet his stomach.
“Grr~”
A faint sound came from behind him.
Turning, he saw a patterned "black balloon" slowly float out of the nearby trees with its back to him, drifting toward a large ant mound. It began to suck in air violently.
One after another, dark-colored army ants were inhaled right into its belly.
Just then, a Barroth let out an angry roar and, eyes bloodshot, charged straight at the balloon.
But the “black balloon” had clearly seen it coming. With a gentle flap of its wings, it gracefully dodged the charge and immediately spat a thick cloud of poisonous mist at the Barroth. Its tail, shaped like a giant fan, gave a swift swing, spreading the cloud over the Barroth’s body.
The Barroth staggered like a drunk. After a low, disgruntled growl, it collapsed with a heavy thud and began snoring loudly.
Having taken care of that, the Nightshade Paolumu casually floated back to the ant mound to resume its meal. But just as it was about to dig in again, it caught sight of Logan nearby—chewing on a snack and watching the scene unfold like a spectator at a show.
Its cute little rodent face twisted with alarm, and the very next instant, it let out a whoosh like a balloon deflating, reversed course, and frantically flapped its wings to flee.
[Crack—]
Logan spat out a shard of bone that looked like a needle.
The morning’s little episode had come to an end. Time to resume the hunt.
He would be staying in this once-familiar land for a while—Aki’s injuries wouldn’t heal in fewer than five or six days, let alone recover enough for combat.
...
Old World — Port Tanzia.
The newly selected members of the Second Team disembarked from the airship in a hurry, then rushed toward the harbor.
They had received news: the Teostra had left its former territory—its Elder Crossing had begun.
The three massive dragonbone ships anchored at the port had been specially rebuilt after receiving word that the First Team was still active.
After all, the Second Team was nothing like the elite First Team—their overall combat capability was significantly lower. That’s why these ships incorporated several technologies recently recovered through archaeological research, maximizing their chances of surviving the long voyage without being disturbed by sea monsters. They were even designed to avoid drawing too much attention while observing the Teostra.
“Captain, everyone is assembled. We’re ready to depart.”
At the harbor, a bald, muscular man looked up at the raised flags—orange and brown as their base colors—then strode up the boarding ramp.
“Set sail!”
The three ships hoisted their sails and launched into the wind.
Two hunters followed close behind the Second Team’s captain, clearly positioned as his personal guards.
It couldn’t be helped. Even the Guild hadn’t expected he would personally request to go to the New World.
After all, the Second Team’s captain was one of the few humans in the world who had mastered the forging techniques using Elder Dragon materials!
This craft had always been exclusive to the scholarly Wyverians—very few humans had ever managed to learn it. Those who did were universally considered to be prodigies, priceless treasures of humankind.
Because of that, and at his own insistence, extra hunters had been assigned to guard him closely.
...
Waves surged endlessly as the sea breeze whipped through the air, making the flags snap and flutter loudly.
Three massive Dragonbone ships advanced across the boundless ocean in a triangular formation. The only thing guiding their path was the distant silhouette visible through a telescope: a legendary Elder Dragon—the male specimen of the Teostra species—Teostra himself.
Teostra was well aware of the little tails trailing behind him, yet he didn’t care.
Perhaps age had mellowed him. Once considered the embodiment of violence among the most common Elder Dragons, he no longer held much desire to fight.
As long as no one deliberately provoked him or posed a significant threat, he usually responded with indifference.
This journey wasn’t quite a traditional Elder Crossing for him. Rather, he had been drawn by some kind of signal from the New World—something that hinted at a chance to break past the limits of life itself and grow even more powerful.
Of course, such an opportunity wasn’t something only he could sense. With every opportunity came risk, and as someone who had lived for a very, very long time—now stepping into the middle stages of life—he understood that truth well.
That was why he’d convinced his increasingly short-tempered mate to stay behind. He would go first to scout things out and call her later if necessary.
Unlike the Rathalos, who also move in mated pairs, Teostra of the Old World displayed a kind of male chauvinism.
Though his temper could be savage, he would often take the initiative to assist—or even protect—the slightly weaker female Teostra, the Lunastra.
So when he sensed danger in this voyage, Teostra chose to head out alone to assess the situation.
On one of the Dragonbone ships, a young Wyverian scholar lowered his telescope and wiped the sweat from his brow.
When Elder Dragons undertake an Elder Crossing—traversing such vast oceans—they often release their power either to avoid disturbances or simply because they find interference annoying.
Take Kushala Daora ten years ago: as it crossed the sea, thunder roared and storms followed in its wake.
And now, Teostra was no different. He was like a walking sun, radiating intense heat wherever he went. Even the research fleet trailing far behind could feel the searing waves of heat with ease.
Fortunately, Teostra held no hostility toward them. With him forging a path ahead, not a single bizarre or dangerous creature had dared show itself to trouble the convoy.
Where natural disasters pass, all lesser beings retreat.
“You might want to head back inside the cabin,” someone said.
The Second Fleet Master lounged casually on the deck with a short-sleeved shirt thrown over his shoulders, eating his meal. Years of living beside the forge had made this kind of temperature negligible to him—but the young Wyverian scholar, dressed in full academic robes and looking rather frail, might not fare as well.
“No need. I’m not as fragile as I look.”
The scholar sat down, took the cold drink offered by a Felyne assistant, and sipped it calmly before asking, as if in passing: “By the way, why did you volunteer to come to the New World? With your skills, wouldn’t you be more valuable staying in Dundorma?”
“Why, huh?”
The Second Fleet Master scratched his head, eyes firm with resolve.
“I guess… I couldn’t accept it. I’m still far from being good enough.”
Upon hearing his words, the Wyverian scholar didn’t show much of a reaction—but not far off, the two Hunters serving as temporary escorts both curled their lips in unison.
“Is that even human speech?” they muttered inwardly.
The Second Fleet Master didn’t notice this and continued speaking to himself, “Back in the Old World, all I could do was follow in his footsteps. Everything I learned, everything I saw—it all trickled down from him. In that kind of environment, no matter how much I honed my skills or pushed my creativity, I could never catch up. That’s why this New World, with its completely fresh environment and ecosystem, is my chance!”
The young Wyverian scholar nodded. He understood exactly who the Second Fleet Master was referring to.
Indeed, that man was the pinnacle of Wyverian blacksmithing in the Old World—constantly innovating the craft while already possessing unmatched mastery. It could be said that 99% of all blacksmiths on the continent lived in his shadow.
After all, he was the legendary master who had once used forbidden-level monster materials to successfully forge a weapon.
“What about you, then?” the Second Fleet Master asked, raising an eyebrow. “I heard the others say the reason you came to the New World was because you lost to your younger sister in Elder Dragon research and couldn’t take the hit to your pride—so you ran away. That true?”
“Ahaha~”
The young Wyverian scholar adjusted his round glasses and shook his head with a soft laugh. “You believe that too? I simply got too impatient to explore these new ecosystems. Besides, the Guild needed someone who could handle both research and personnel management, so I was assigned to the expedition.”
The Second Fleet Master nodded in understanding. He had heard of the talented Wyverian siblings in research circles. If not for his own inclusion—and the fact that the Second Fleet primarily focused on craftsmanship—the young man before him would likely have been appointed its leader.
Despite his youthful appearance, the scholar was probably already in his sixties or seventies.
