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MHD Chapter 3: In the Wake of the Storm, She Arrived
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 01:25:58 +0000 UTCIn the turbulent current, Logan tumbled over and over again. He had already lost count of how many times he’d been slammed against rocks. His whole body ached so badly it was starting to go numb, yet he had no choice but to struggle with everything he had just to lift his head for a breath.
He had no idea how much time had passed before the current began to calm and the terrifying force of impact finally faded.
In a tranquil pool, the small Rathalos spread his wings, guiding his body slowly to the surface. Moving almost on instinct, he swam toward the shore and collapsed onto the sand.
Mouthful after mouthful of water spilled out. Every ounce of pain and exhaustion in his body screamed the same message to Logan: he had survived. He had actually made it out alive from the jaws of that savage brute!
He wanted to laugh, but had no strength left to do so. The entire wyvern lay sprawled across the beach, panting heavily.
He was spent—completely and utterly drained.
His stamina had been completely wrung dry. At this point, even if something came to attack him, he probably wouldn’t be able to lift a claw to fight back.
The Acceleration trait had certainly given him a tremendous burst of speed, but it hadn’t spared a single drop of the stamina it cost. Multiple patches of scales on his body were shattered, blood seeped from the wounds, and the whole wyvern looked utterly pitiful.
So… why?
His first time getting a cheat-like ability. His first successful hunt of a real prey.
Shouldn’t combining those two joyful events have doubled the happiness?
Why had it turned out like this?
Logan couldn’t understand. Wasn’t he supposed to unlock a glorious overpowered path the moment he activated his cheat? Wasn't he supposed to reach the top of the food chain someday?
How did he end up nearly becoming someone else’s lunch?
A soft rustling of footsteps drew near. Logan tensed up, forcing his eyelids open—and then let out a breath of relief.
“Ah. Herbivores. Then it’s fine.”
These things had no offensive capabilities. Still… being surrounded by a bunch of herbivores like this was kind of embarrassing.
“Hey! I’m a Rathalos, okay? One of the fierce ones!”
The herbivorous couldn’t hear Logan’s inner thoughts. The only reason they had gathered around was out of simple curiosity—why had a seemingly half-dead fledgling wyvern suddenly emerged from the calm surface of the lake?
But after watching him for a while and seeing no movement, they gradually dispersed and resumed their slow, leisurely wandering nearby.
As for any potential danger from Logan, they paid it no mind whatsoever.
These herbivores were a calm and mild-tempered species. Their philosophy in life was simple: if you’re alive, that’s fine; if you die, that’s okay too. If a predator shows up, just run. Once the predator is gone, go back to grazing. Their entire existence was defined by a sort of Buddhist detachment.
The only reason they hadn’t gone extinct was their overwhelming reproductive ability—and the sheer amount of meat on each of their massive bodies. Even large fanged wyverns could usually only manage to eat half of one in a single sitting.
Additionally, their species migrated in a periodic cycle. If a powerful carnivore invaded their territory and drove others away, reducing local predator populations, these herbivores could even spawn new herds to fill the gap.
Logan didn’t care at all about the herbivores’ movements. After confirming that they posed no threat to him, he simply closed his eyes again to recover his strength.
Even though he looked quite pitiful at the moment, his wounds weren’t actually fatal. His main problem was exhaustion.
Still, whether it was unique to Logan or simply a trait shared by all wyverns in this world, something unusual happened whenever he closed his eyes and focused: he could sense the flow of energy deep underground—ley line energy. With deliberate effort, he could guide this energy up through the thick layers of rock and into his body, accelerating both his recovery and the healing of his wounds.
Right now, his body was like a dried-out sponge, while the ley line energy was water. As soon as it seeped in, he absorbed it greedily and rapidly.
Along with the ley line current came tiny silver particles. They mixed with the energy and flowed into Logan’s body together.
The lake was nestled in the middle of a vast grassland. Here, lush green grass blanketed the land, and the area was rich with plump berries and juicy plants—a natural and delicious buffet for herbivores.
But for flying wyverns, it was also the perfect hunting ground.
High above, a dark green figure darted between the clouds, using the thick cover to conceal its movements. Its overlapping scales shimmered with dazzling hues as sunlight bounced off their surfaces.
Keen eyes, sharp as an eagle’s, scanned the earth below. It didn’t take long for the creature to lock onto a suitable target. Its beautifully patterned wings quivered slightly as a fierce gust of wind howled past its ears.
And then, the wyvern dove.
Before the herd of herbivores could react, the massive wyvern had already locked its powerful claws around the neck of its chosen prey. With the full force of its dive behind it, it slammed the creature into the ground with brutal impact.
A deep, muffled crash echoed across the plain. The earth quaked violently, as if it might split apart. Razor-sharp talons sank deep into flesh, unleashing a geyser of blood.
The snapping of bones rang out like a high-pitched crescendo in a brutal symphony, resounding across the open fields.
This was a hunt fueled by sheer brutality and cruelty—but beneath that, there was a raw, awe-inspiring beauty born of power.
Every movement was precise. Every strike, decisive. There was no hesitation, no waste. It was the elegance of violence in its purest form—so perfect that it left one shaken.
Only then did the other herbivores react. Panic erupted as they screamed and fled toward the distant forests.
But the victorious predator paid them no mind. It had already claimed a satisfying prize.
Lifting its proud head, the wyvern scanned the surroundings. Its powerful tail—lined with menacing thorns—swayed from side to side, radiating dominance. It wanted to see if any foolish creature dared challenge the authority of the Queen of the Land at a moment like this.
And that’s when it spotted Logan.
Lying motionless by the lake, he was staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes.
The proud queen was caught completely off guard.
Just moments ago, while flying overhead, she’d assumed that fledgling fire wyvern was already dead.
To think he was still alive!
At that moment, from Logan’s point of view, the female Rathian before him had a sleek and graceful build, her muscles flowing with elegance and strength. Every scale on her body gleamed like a flawless gemstone, dazzling beneath the sunlight.
The venomous spines along her back resembled a noble mantle draped across her shoulders, highlighting her regal bearing. The symmetrical patterns on her wings were striking, and her powerful body remained perfectly steady even after that high-speed dive. As she stood proudly atop the carcass of the herbivore, surveying her surroundings, her impeccable proportions were on full display.
Her whole demeanor radiated a sense of superiority—an aura that looked down on all others. Though not yet fully grown, she already exuded the poise of a queen.
That’s right—this Rathian wasn’t even an adult yet. Her body was just over eight meters long. In human terms, she would’ve been like a tall, athletic teenage girl with an unshakable pride and an outstanding figure.
More importantly, from the crisp and decisive way she hunted, it was clear that she wasn’t just a pretty face—she had true strength to back it up.
Every detail about her perfectly matched Logan’s aesthetic preferences. If he had to pick a future mate, he wouldn’t hesitate for a second.
“Wait a second! What the hell am I thinking?!”
Logan suddenly snapped out of it. He figured he must’ve just been hungry—how else could he look at a female Rathian and think she was so graceful and lovely?
He had only just transmigrated into this world not long ago! How had his tastes and preferences already changed so completely?
Besides… he was still just a fledgling! A baby wyvern! That meant nothing on his body had even developed yet! How could he possibly be having perverted thoughts?
No way! He absolutely refused to admit he was some kind of lecherous scaley pervert!!
The Rathian glanced at the half-dead fledgling lying on the lakeshore. She couldn’t quite understand his odd behavior—he kept shaking his head for no reason, then staring at her with weird looks in his eyes.
Still, if this little wyvern wasn’t dead, then… where was his mother?
A fledgling this young wasn’t supposed to leave the nest—not under any circumstances. Let alone end up in such a miserable state.
If a young wyvern suffered injuries like these, a mother Rathian would usually go mad with rage.
Yet even after scanning the area, she didn’t see any other female wyverns nearby.
Driven by curiosity, she stepped off the lifeless herbivore beneath her feet, tucked in her wings, and walked over to Logan. After observing him for a moment, she leaned down and sniffed him.
‘Huh? No other scent?’
She was surprised.
There wasn’t a single trace of an adult Rathalos on him!
Could it be… that he, like she had been as a hatchling, had lost his mother and was forced to survive alone?
But even so, there should have been more than just his own scent on him. Back in her own brood, she hadn’t been the only one in the nest.
