TitoVillar
patreon
MHD Chapter 2: Tooth, Claw, and Panic
🕑 Added 2025-06-29 01:25:22 +0000 UTC“Grrrmph~”
Just as Logan was enjoying his meal, a deep, muffled roar echoed from nearby. He quickly swallowed the meat in his mouth, licked his lips, and looked up.
In the next instant, his pupils contracted. Instinctively, he crouched low, letting out a low, suppressed growl.
From behind a massive boulder, three adult Kestodon emerged, leading two juveniles. The largest Kestodon glared at Logan, pawing the earth with its powerful hooves, clearly ready to charge and trample the low-threat fledgling.
Faced with this sudden hostility, Logan refused to back down. He let out a youthful but defiant roar.
He was a ferocious carnivorous wyvern—a Rathalos, apex of the food chain. If he got scared off by a few mere herbivores, how would he ever show his face again?
...
“HEEELP!!”
In the depths of the jungle, Logan flailed his wings and bolted like a panicked fowl, darting desperately over obstacle after obstacle, barking out panicked yelps without rhyme or reason.
Hot on his heels were two furious Kestodon, snorting heavily through their nostrils, heads low and charging forward with relentless determination to trample him into the ground.
Right now, Logan was filled with one overwhelming emotion: regret. Bone-deep, soul-crushing regret.
Why—why—had he felt the need to roar back?
What had begun as a mere attempt by the Kestodon family to scare him off so they could drink in peace had now turned into a full-blown chase of pure fury.
Fortunately, the moment the chase began, his Acceleration trait had triggered again. Using the complex terrain of the Ancient Forest to his advantage, Logan survived the most dangerous early phase. As his speed gradually increased, the two Kestodon—never built for sprinting—finally lost ground. Eventually, they could only watch helplessly as Logan vanished into the woods.
Left without a target, the two Kestodon exchanged confused glances. Their less-than-sharp minds simply couldn’t grasp how a juvenile Rathalos—one that couldn’t even fly yet—had managed to outrun them so thoroughly.
Meanwhile, Logan, who had finally escaped, was panting heavily.
Fatigue wasn’t even the main issue. What hit him harder was the abrupt loss of that light, swift feeling granted by Acceleration now that the fight had ended. In its place was a sudden heaviness—as if a body that had been wearing light armor had been forcibly stuffed into full plate mail. The weight was overwhelming, and it threw off his rhythm entirely.
“Good thing that rabbit was fat—otherwise this whole trip would’ve been a total loss.”
Logan sighed inwardly, still catching his breath. The one he had set his eyes on turned out to be quite plump, and after gulping it down, he finally felt the rare sensation of having something in his stomach again.
Just then, a sharp stench with a distinct tang of rot suddenly drifted into his nostrils. He had been too exhausted earlier to notice it—his senses dulled from the chase. But now that he had relaxed a bit, his keen sense of smell began to recover.
Following the scent, he looked toward a stone wall in the distance. There, gleaming under the sunlight, was a patch of sticky-looking slime.
“Is that… a territorial marker?”
In this world, most large creatures had a habit of marking their territory—be it with mucus, claw marks, or discarded scales.
Logan didn’t know which creature had left behind this particular slime, but thanks to the keen eyesight of a Rathalos, he could clearly see two deep claw marks etched into the rock wall nearby. Just from the depth and spread of those marks, it was obvious—they belonged to something huge.
And Logan, unknowingly, had already stepped right into its territory.
The tension that had just started to ease instantly came rushing back. He looked around warily, anxious that some massive beast might leap out from behind a corner with jaws wide open and a bloodthirsty roar.
Given his small frame, being able to outrun a Kestodon was already pushing his limits. If he actually had to face one of those towering monsters? Just one of their strides would cover ten of his. How was he supposed to outrun that?
As he carefully scanned his surroundings, a chill suddenly crept down his spine. That familiar lightness—the signature effect of the Acceleration trait—kicked in once more.
No giant beast… but something else.
A creature had emerged, its body clad in yellow-green scales, with dark markings beneath its eyes like smeared eyeliner. Jagged brown spines rose along its back, and its slightly opened maw revealed rows of sharp, saw-like teeth. It looked like an oversized green iguana—and it was staring coldly at Logan with emotionless, reptilian eyes.
A Genprey. One of the lowest-ranking carnivores in the food chain. Aside from its relatively sharp claws and mildly decent bite, it had no outstanding features.
Due to its small size and poor stamina, a Genprey would typically only attack small creatures. When facing larger monsters, it would often flee into the trees to hide. In short, it was firmly rooted at the bottom of the predatory hierarchy.
In terms of danger, this thing wasn’t even as threatening as the Kestodon from earlier. In fact, Logan was already bigger than this one.
But even so, Logan felt a headache coming on.
Genprey were pack hunters.
Sure enough, two more Genprey emerged from the underbrush, flanking the first and surrounding Logan from both sides. As they advanced, they occasionally glanced skyward—checking to see if this juvenile Rathalos had an adult protector nearby.
“What rotten luck is this!?”
This world was so incredibly unfriendly to juvenile wyverns without protection!
Logan screamed internally and turned to flee once again.
Just as he struck a sprinting posture, a series of heavy footsteps echoed through the forest.
Branches were pushed aside, towering ferns parted to both sides. In this lush green environment, only the sound was heard—no figure yet in sight.
The thudding footsteps pounded like giant war drums, reverberating in one’s chest. The three Genprey immediately stood upright to locate the source of the sound. The next second, without even looking back, they turned and bolted in the opposite direction. In the face of death, skipping a meal suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad option.
Logan did the same—he even took off earlier than the Genprey, diving headfirst into the woods. Just before he completely disappeared into the thickets, he caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye: a massive, terrifying head burst through the branches, eyes locked onto Logan’s fleeing figure as it let out a deafening roar.
“Crap! Anjanath!!”
This creature was infamous for its foul temper, massive size, thick hide, and overwhelming territorial instinct—not to mention its ability to breathe fire. It was, without a doubt, a full-blown savage!
Logan didn’t care about the painful scrapes from branches; all he could do was run with everything he had. If that Anjanath caught him, he’d end up as crispy wyvern nuggets. With that jaw strength and digestive capacity, the Anjanath definitely wouldn’t mind swallowing him whole—scales, bones, and all.
Right now, he could only pray that he wasn’t the creature’s target. After all, he started running earlier than the Genprey and was farther away from it too. That should lower the chances of the Anjanath picking him over them.
Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side.
In the end, the Anjanath locked onto him.
To the beast, those Genprey were just petty scavengers who fed on its leftovers—not even worth a second thought.
But Logan was different. Even if he was only a hatchling, the fact that he was a Rathalos made him an invader in the Anjanath’s eyes. An intruder who dared to linger in its marked territory—who dared to challenge it!
The heavy thuds of its steps grew louder. The sound of shattering branches and trampling grass filled Logan’s ears, accompanied by the creature’s occasional earth-shaking roar. The combination made his scalp go numb.
The Anjanath behind him charged like a heavy tank, smashing through everything in its path—branches, vines, whatever—clearing a brutal swath through the dense forest.
But Logan wasn’t so lucky. His small frame could barely brush past the soft ferns, but he had to dodge the branches and vines. Because of that, even with all his might, the Anjanath was closing in fast.
“What do I do? What do I do!!”
The shadow of death loomed overhead—literally.
Due to the angle of the sun, the Anjanath was now close enough that its massive shadow completely engulfed Logan. If not for his 'Acceleration' trait steadily boosting his speed, he would’ve been gulped down long ago.
But Logan also realized something: the acceleration wasn’t infinite. Like now—his speed had plateaued. It seemed to be linked to his physical condition. And with just this speed… he had no chance of outrunning the Anjanath.
“So this is it? I actually have limits even after becoming something other than human? Was it all for nothing?”
A sense of despair crept up from deep within.
Logan could now only move his legs mechanically, doing everything he could to delay the inevitable.
As for turning back for a desperate final bite before dying? Forget it! That was never an option. His current bite force could barely leave a mark on the Anjanath’s skin. Tearing off a chunk of flesh? His teeth would probably shatter before that even happened.
Better to run a few more steps. Who knows—maybe something would change.
Perhaps someone up there was listening. His view suddenly opened up ahead, and the ground vanished beneath his feet as he plunged off a high ledge—straight down toward a raging river below.
Just before hitting the water, Logan thought he heard the Anjanath let out a frustrated roar. But the next moment, he was swept away by the current, carried far downstream.
Up on the ledge, the Anjanath skidded to a stop. Those cold eyes burned with unwilling rage. It had never imagined that a mere fledgling—an inexperienced Rathalos not even built for land-based speed—could run so damn fast!
It had chased through an entire section of the forest, and was just about to catch up. It had already begun fantasizing about tearing off those annoying wings, crunching those still-fragile scales with its teeth, and gulping down that scalding hot blood.
And yet it failed—just by that much. That much! And it was a Rathalos, no less!
Flames welled up at the corners of the Anjanath’s mouth, its eyes turned blood-red, and its nostrils flared wide like a crown. On its back, a pair of heat-dissipating membranes unfurled like small wings. At this point, it could no longer suppress the fire surging within, but there was nothing nearby on which it could vent its fury.
So all it could do was roar again and again from atop the cliff, desperately trying to release its seething rage!
