"ROOAAAR~~"
A chorus of long, echoing roars rang out above the Ancient Tree. Logan swallowed the last bite of the Mosswine offering for the day, exchanged a look with Aki, then spread his wings and launched from the nest.
At that very moment, all the Rathalos in the Ancient Tree were soaring out of their nests, one after another, flying like a flock of birds toward the canopy's summit.
At the crown near the top of the Ancient Tree, five tempered Rathalos descended upon its highest reaches.
By the time Logan arrived, the others had already settled in. The upper canopy was lined with Fire Wyverns perched among the branches, each resting at a level corresponding to the height of their own nest.
Logan, however, stood out among them. Though his size wasn't particularly impressive, and his nest sat only slightly above the mid-tier level, he still chose to ascend to the same height as the tempered Rathalos and landed on a sturdy branch suited to his build.
No one objected.
Logan gazed down at the forest below. This part of the canopy was familiar to him—he flew past it often during his daily patrols through the sky.
But this was only his second time actually setting foot here.
The first had been five years ago, on the eve of the Chameleos extermination campaign.
Back then, he had only reached the middle tier of the canopy. The peak had belonged to the Black Flame King.
And now, he stood at the very top. The Black Flame King—once the one most likely to drive out the Chameleos—had long since become fertilizer for the Elder's Recess.
The Fire Wyverns were never known for strong kinship or tribal unity, but that didn't mean it was nonexistent—especially in the Ancient Tree, where unique rules had subtly strengthened that otherwise weak bond.
At the very least, during times of urgent summons like this one, the Fire Wyverns would still show up out of basic respect.
As the moment arrived, the tempered Rathalos at the center turned his gaze toward the dozens of males gathered below and let out a deep, resonant growl.
Only then did Logan finally understand the reason behind this unprecedented assembly of all the Rathalos in the Ancient Tree.
There were two matters at hand.
First: The southern region of the Ancient Tree—including the large hunting ground where Logan had previously been ambushed—had been entirely overtaken by the migrating Fire Wyverns.
Second: Some Grimalkynes had been attacked while hunting in that area! If it hadn't been for one stubborn Rathalos who insisted on trying to hunt there and happened to discover them in time, they might not have made it out alive.
...
The hunting ground of the Ancient Tree Fire Wyverns, to put it plainly, was a wide, open area with abundant water and grass—an ideal spot often visited by herds of Aptonoth.
Because of the unique nature of the Ancient Tree Fire Wyverns, their hunting grounds differed from other monsters' territories. Rather than being exclusive domains, most of their grounds were shared public hunting zones. However, due to the Fire Wyverns' frequent presence, over time, few lower-ranking monsters dared venture into these areas.
Moreover, the Ancient Forest held no shortage of hunting grounds, many of which were surrounded by trees. There was no real need to compete with the Fire Wyverns for these locations.
But now, some of the public hunting grounds in the southern part of the forest had been claimed as territory by foreign invaders. This undoubtedly reduced the available living space for the Ancient Tree Fire Wyverns.
Of course, due to their relatively weak sense of kinship, this alone wasn't enough to warrant a full-scale gathering.
After all, the hunting ground was simply there—if a foreign Fire Wyvern had the strength to seize it, then it was theirs. If you couldn't break through and hunt there, that was your own weakness.
Even if you died in the attempt, aside from your mate mourning your loss, no other Fire Wyvern would pay the slightest attention.
However, things were different now. Even with Fire Wyverns standing guard, the cats had been attacked while out hunting. That didn't sit well with them.
These days, the Fire Wyverns of the Ancient Tree had come to view the cats much like they viewed those public hunting grounds: as shared communal resources.
Attacking the Grimalkynes that belonged to the Ancient Tree Fire Wyvern clan was like invading territory that belonged to them all—something not so easily tolerated.
Either of these events, on their own, wouldn't have stirred the Fire Wyverns.
"Survival of the fittest"—that was etched into their very bones. Without such an instinct, they wouldn't require combat to earn the right to dwell in the Ancient Tree.
Even Fire Wyverns born atop the Ancient Tree were driven out once they became capable of surviving on their own. These brutal rules ensured not only the population control of Fire Wyverns atop the tree but also maintained their combat strength. Was that not a form of selection in itself?
But now, both incidents had happened together, and that changed everything.
Encroachment on territory, the shrinking of living space—these were serious provocations to any creature.
And so, this great summoning came to pass.
According to the tempered Fire Wyverns, this situation was no different from when the Zinogre packs were driven into the Ancient Tree region by the Chameleos—another clash over territorial boundaries between clans.
Whether it was to reclaim hunting grounds or to defend their domain, a collective response was necessary—to drive these outsiders from the Ancient Tree.
These migrating Fire Wyverns were not part of the Ancient Forest's original ecosystem. And since the Fire Wyverns of the Ancient Tree were merely responding defensively after their breeding grounds were intruded upon, their actions still fell within the bounds of the natural order.
So, the moment the proposal was raised, the Rathalos roared one after another. Led by the six tempered Rathalos, including Logan, they spread their wings and soared skyward, flying toward the hunting grounds in the southern reaches of the Ancient Tree.
At that moment, atop the Ancient Tree, the female Fire Wyverns that had not laid eggs this year emerged from their nests, circling above the canopy to patrol the skies. Meanwhile, the others swiftly returned to their nests, guarding their young with vigilant care.
The cats, noticing the disturbance, were initially confused. But upon seeing the alert postures of the remaining females, they sounded the horn and, fully armed, took up defensive positions across every corner of the Ancient Tree.
"What's going on?"
Standing atop a thick tree branch, the Admiral gazed at the dozens of Rathalos soaring off into the distance. His eyes then shifted to Tonkotsu, who had suddenly gone on alert, a surge of excitement welling up inside him.
Another event never before recorded by the Hunter's Guild!
"No idea, nyah, but something big must've happened—something that requires all the Fire Wyverns to deal with together, nyah," Tonkotsu replied, just as baffled by the scene.
During the Chameleos incident years ago, the Fire Wyverns had acted independently, rushing in to assist on their own. It was nothing like this—an organized departure following deliberate discussion.
The Admiral's eyes burned with fervor, his entire being itching with anticipation.
"I really want to go and see for myself."
But unfortunately, that was just a thought—nothing more.
The Ancient Tree was forbidden territory for Wingdrakes, and no Fire Wyvern would agree to carry the Admiral. Not even the method Logan had used before—hitching a ride in a basket—would work now.
The swarm of Rathalos swept across the sky in force, a dark and thunderous mass. The aura they radiated made all the creatures in the forest below instantly dive for cover.
Even the brutish Anjanath—infamous for their foul tempers—took one look at the spectacle above and quickly retreated into the woods. Only after the Fire Wyverns had passed did they dare to emerge again.
One Fire Wyvern wasn't terrifying. Two? Still manageable.
But an entire formation—arguably the most elite group of Rathalos in the New World—flying together? Even some of the weaker Elder Dragons wouldn't dare provoke such a force lightly.
Without resorting to their catastrophic abilities, even if they won the fight, they'd be left badly wounded after facing so many Rathalos at once.
Feeling the wind whip past them, the Rathalos cut through the clouds, making no effort to conceal their presence. They came boldly, brazenly, descending upon the first hunting ground.
No commands were necessary. Several of them dived straight down, launching their assault the moment they spotted a Fire Wyvern from the Old World.
No ambush. No ganging up. In fact, they were even fighting outnumbered in some cases.
Some of the Rathalos had to face off against a mated pair of Old World Fire Wyverns.
But these were Rathalos born and raised in the brutal crucible of the Ancient Tree. In both battle experience and physical strength, they were leagues above those that had lived beyond its borders.
If this were a game, every Rathalos from the Ancient Tree would be classified as a gold crown—maximum size.
In the game, monster size doesn't make much of a difference; the numerical values barely change.
But in reality, size is the most intuitive metric for gauging a monster's strength. The larger the body, the stronger the beast tends to be. That's why creatures like the Pukei-Pukei, which judge opponents by size, are usually not wrong.
Adding to that, Fire Wyverns from the Old World are missing a wing bone, which puts their flight capabilities at a disadvantage compared to those from the New World.
With no edge in battle experience and inferior physical build, even with numerical superiority, the Old World Fire Wyverns couldn't gain the upper hand in any meaningful way.
The hovering Rathalos above kept watch over the battlefield below. Once they confirmed that the remaining wyverns on site were enough to drive the Old World Fire Wyverns out of that hunting ground, they immediately took off for the next target.
Like this, they passed through three hunting grounds in succession. By the time they reached the largest one in the southern part of the Ancient Tree region, only eleven Rathalos remained—including Logan.
And it was there that Logan finally came face-to-face with the one who had ambushed him that day.
Its entire body was wreathed in searing flames. Golden patterns shimmered across its wings, and though it simply hovered quietly in the air, the temperature around it was rising rapidly.
The moment the Flame Rathalos appeared before the Ancient Tree wyverns, their eyes immediately locked onto Logan.
If it weren't for the fact that Logan, like them, had four wing bones instead of three, they might have assumed he was somehow connected to that one.
At that moment, stirred by the commotion, several more massive Fire Wyverns emerged from the forest surrounding the hunting ground—clearly some of the strongest individuals among the migrants.
The two flocks of Fire Wyverns now faced each other in midair, as if silently choosing their opponents.
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