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MHD Chapter 22: The Fractured Balance
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 01:57:23 +0000 UTCIn the world of Monster Hunter, every monster can be described with a word that captures its very essence. For example, Anjanath is often labeled a brute.
So, what word best defines Yian Garuga?
Combat.
Among the Flying Wyverns—who are generally considered to sit at the bottom rung of the power ladder—Yian Garuga stands out as a singular force. It sits firmly at the apex of its classification and even ranks in the upper-middle tiers when viewed within the broader ecological hierarchy.
The Yian Garuga of the New World, in particular, has grown even stronger—powerful enough to push into the upper tiers of the ecosystem.
What makes Yian Garuga such a headache is its sheer battle lust. It seems born to fight and die in battle. This also makes it remarkably easy to feed—bugs, carrion, or, if it’s feeling bold, it just steals food from a Great Jagras. So obsessed is it with fighting that it’s become downright terrible at raising offspring. Like a cuckoo, it lays its eggs among those of Great Jagras to trick them into raising its young.
With habits like these, Yian Garuga spends every day either fighting—or on the way to a fight.
Other creatures fight for survival or territory. But Yian Garuga fights simply because it enjoys the act itself. No matter how formidable the enemy, it never backs down.
Even when faced with the likes of a Deviljho or a Rajang, it dares to strike first.
Even when outmatched, its fighting spirit never falters. On the contrary—it burns even hotter the more intense the battle becomes. Even severely wounded, it will still try to leave its mark on the enemy.
Because of this reckless, hell-for-leather nature, many high-tier predators prefer not to get tangled up with a Yian Garuga unless absolutely necessary.
And now—this very monster, born and bred for combat, had shown up in a place where there wasn’t even a worthy opponent in sight... and was acting like it was running for its life?
Logan found that truly baffling.
Could it be that Yian Garuga somehow knew this was a hunting ground and had come here looking for a challenger?
Impossible.
This place wasn’t far from the Ancient Tree, and even in such chaotic times, Rathalos still held dominion over these hunting grounds. And monsters like Rathalos—the large, top-tier Flying Wyverns—were natural enemies of Yian Garuga.
A Yian Garuga couldn’t outfly a Rathalos or even a Tobi-Kadachi. In battles like these, it had no advantage in size or speed, and the fights ended quickly, leaving no room for the Yian Garuga’s fire and poison to make much of an impact.
That meant there was only one explanation left—it was running for its life!
Worried that a higher-level predator might be nearby, Logan flapped his wings and came to a halt, eyeing the direction Yian Garuga had come from with extreme caution.
Because he had dropped in altitude, the forest canopy no longer fully blocked his view of what lay beyond.
Yet when he looked out, all he saw was a faint white mist—nothing else.
Still puzzled, Logan suddenly heard the startled cries of Aptonoth and quickly glanced downward. The herbivores had been spooked by the unexpected arrival of Yian Garuga. Even though the wyvern had only flown overhead, the Aptonoth still chose to flee.
If the Aptonoth fled into the forest, that would be a bit of a problem.
So Logan didn’t hesitate any longer. He dove again, swiftly taking down two reasonably sized Aptonoth, all while keeping a watchful eye on the direction the Yian Garuga had come from as he devoured his meal in large bites.
The mist within the forest soon began to dissipate, and by the time Logan had eaten his fill, no enemies had emerged from the trees.
Logan didn’t indulge his curiosity by flying in to investigate. After discarding the half-eaten carcass, he grabbed the other and flapped his wings, returning to the Ancient Tree.
The Yian Garuga incident was merely a brief interlude. Logan had been curious at the time, but as days passed and other events unfolded, it completely slipped from his mind.
Lately, for reasons he couldn’t explain, a sense of deep oppression had been growing stronger by the day.
At first, it was only Logan who felt it. But over time, every wyverns living in the Ancient Tree began to show signs of the same unease. It felt as if something of a much higher ecological level had set its sights on them.
Initially, the wyverns simply became more vigilant with each other. But as this feeling intensified—triggering some kind of primal, bone-deep warning—one by one, they started to break.
Rathalos families began to scatter, choosing to temporarily leave the Ancient Tree in search of safer grounds.
The Zinogre at the lower levels stopped fighting over territory and resumed their migrations.
With the Zinogre and other creatures on the move again, the area around the Ancient Tree was left in true scarcity—completely devoid of food.
Even when Logan and Aki went out to hunt together, the results were barely enough to sustain them. The other adult Rathalos fared even worse.
Gradually, a vicious cycle took hold around the Ancient Tree.
In such dire conditions, even the Grimalkyne chieftain came to Logan to discuss whether they should consider migration. If they did, their tribe was willing to follow him.
Logan, however, felt conflicted. It wasn’t that he was emotionally attached to the place—it was just... where would they even go?
Within the entire Ancient Forest, only the Ancient Tree had a geopulse node. In other areas, the flow of life energy was far weaker.
That left only two possible destinations: the Wildspire Waste, or the Coral Highlands beyond the Great Ravine.
The Wildspire Waste, however, wasn’t exactly ideal for Rathalos—especially for males.
As for the Coral Highlands, it was the domain of the Legiana. Since they too were Flying Wyverns, any intrusion would likely lead to conflict. Logan and Aki would probably end up facing an entire Legiana pack. Without sufficient strength, the Coral Highlands were a dangerous gamble.
Then there was the Elder’s Recess. Even ignoring how long the flight would take, the journey would be fraught with battles and peril.
And even if they did make it—food there was so scarce it bordered on absurd. The terrain was unforgiving, and it was crawling with untold numbers of Elder Dragons and uniquely powerful subspecies.
Migration wasn’t a simple matter. It wasn’t just a matter of flapping your wings and flying off. It was incredibly dangerous. Unless absolutely necessary, Logan had no intention of leaving the Ancient Tree.
Troubled, Logan flew out of his nest and began circling the area for a routine patrol—only to suddenly spot, at the northwestern edge of the Ancient Tree, a dense fog rising without warning.
The mist rose so high it pierced through the thick canopy, casting strange colors beneath the sunlight.
This wasn’t normal. It was the afternoon—how could such a heavy fog form now?
Sensing something was wrong, Logan accelerated and flew directly toward the sky above the fog.
He had barely reached the area when his Powerhouse Trait activated.
Flames instantly surged over his entire body, crackling loudly as they met the thick mist. Logan's sharp eyes caught something unusual—the mist being burned away shimmered purple just before dissipating.
“This mist is poisonous!!”
Realizing what was happening, Logan didn't hesitate for even a second. He shot up into the sky, only letting out a breath of relief once the active traits on his body had faded away.
Looking down at the poisonous fog below, still shaken, he realized just how terrifying it was. Even just brushing against the edge had triggered the flames of his body—that alone was enough to tell how absurdly toxic the miasma was. Never mind the toxicity itself—at this density, even a minor poison in such a large dose would be enough to bring down anything!
And in Logan’s eyes, the spread of this toxic mist was staggering. Compared to this, the venomous gas spewed by a Pukei-Pukei felt like a child playing with a squirt gun while an adult aimed an AK-47.
What’s worse, now that he was no longer in immediate danger, the oppressive feeling from this poisoned region began to overwhelm him. A deep, primal instinct screamed at him to flee—whatever was inside that mist was not something he could afford to provoke.
That feeling brought back memories of five years ago, during the battle between Kushala Daora and Namielle. The suffocating pressure those two Elder Dragons exuded… this felt just like that.
Well, not quite. Back then, the pressure from those two dragons was even more intense and crushing.
