By the stream, a group of kelbi grazed peacefully while keeping constant watch on their surroundings. Even while feeding, the slightest disturbance would send them fleeing without hesitation.
Such was life at the bottom of the food chain—when danger appeared, real or imagined, running fast was their only law of survival.
Hidden in the tall grass, Luo Yun drooled as he watched the kelbi with predatory focus. He crept forward with painstaking care, closing the distance inch by inch.
He had no choice in his approach. As a male Rathalos who couldn't yet fly, he lacked the powerful legs of his female counterparts. His elongated toes forced him to bend his joints awkwardly just to walk on land, making close proximity essential for a successful hunt.
His foot pressed down on a twig with a soft crack.
The kelbi's ears shot up instantly, their heads swiveling as they scanned for threats.
No more waiting. Luo Yun exploded from the undergrowth like an arrow from a bow, wings spread wide for balance.
The alerted kelbi scattered in every direction. Luo Yun locked onto his chosen target and gave chase with single-minded determination.
His Acceleration trait kicked in, pushing him faster with each stride. Within moments, his jaws clamped down on the fleeing kelbi. Unable to brake properly, his momentum sent him tumbling forward in an ungraceful slide through the dirt before finally coming to rest.
The kelbi kicked frantically in his jaws, fighting with strength far exceeding that of any forest gecko. But Luo Yun's grip was iron, and soon the struggles ceased entirely.
Once his prey went limp, he didn't bother brushing off the mud clinging to its fur. He tore into the carcass right where he'd fallen.
Unlike the cold flesh of forest geckos, the kelbi's warm meat suited his palate perfectly. The texture was tender and rich, with just a hint of gaminess that made him ravenous for more.
His swallowing quickened as pleasure rumbled from his throat.
"Grroooar~"
Mid-feast, a deep bellow echoed from somewhere nearby. Luo Yun hastily gulped down the meat in his mouth and looked up, licking blood from his jaws.
His pupils contracted to slits. Instinct drove him to crouch low, a warning growl building in his chest.
Three adult Kulu-Ya-Ku emerged from behind a massive boulder, shepherding two juveniles. The largest adult fixed Luo Yun with a hostile glare, its foreclaws pawing at the ground in clear threat. The message was obvious—it would gladly crush this low-threat whelp if given the slightest provocation.
Faced with this sudden aggression, Luo Yun answered with his own defiant roar, high-pitched though it was.
He was a fierce carnivore, a Rathalos—apex among apex predators. How could he let himself be intimidated by mere herbivores? What would that do to his reputation?
"Help! Somebody help!"
Through the jungle, Luo Yun flapped his wings frantically as he crashed through the undergrowth like a panicked chicken. He vaulted over fallen logs and ducked under branches, desperate cries escaping his throat.
Behind him charged two Kulu-Ya-Ku, eyes blazing red with fury, nostrils flaring as they lowered their heads like battering rams. They were dead set on trampling him into paste.
Regret consumed Luo Yun's thoughts. Pure, overwhelming regret.
Why had he roared back at them? Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut?
What should have been a simple territorial dispute—the Kulu-Ya-Ku just wanted him gone so their family could drink in peace—had escalated into a frenzied chase because of his stupid pride.
Fortunately, his Acceleration trait activated the moment the pursuit began. The Ancient Forest's tangled terrain worked in his favor, helping him survive those critical first moments when death seemed certain. As his speed gradually increased, the Kulu-Ya-Ku—never built for extended sprints—began falling behind. Eventually, they could only watch as he vanished into the deeper woods.
The two Kulu-Ya-Ku stood there, looking at each other in bewilderment. Their simple minds couldn't comprehend how a fledgling Rathalos that could barely flutter its wings had outrun them.
Meanwhile, having finally escaped, Luo Yun gasped for air like a drowning man who'd reached shore.
Physical exhaustion was one thing, but leaving combat meant his Acceleration bonus was rapidly fading. The sudden return of his body's normal weight felt crushing, as if someone had strapped armor plates to every limb when he'd been expecting to move freely.
"At least I finished that rabbit. Otherwise, this whole disaster would've been a complete loss."
As he caught his breath, Luo Yun consoled himself with the thought. The kelbi had been pleasantly plump, and for once, his stomach actually felt like it contained food instead of gnawing emptiness.
A putrid stench suddenly invaded his nostrils. He'd been too exhausted to notice before, but now that he'd relaxed, his keen sense of smell was returning to full strength.
Following the odor to its source, he spotted a patch of viscous fluid on a nearby cliff face, glistening unpleasantly in the filtered sunlight.
"Territory marking?"
Most large creatures in this world marked their domains somehow—with secretions, claw marks, or shed scales.
Luo Yun didn't recognize whose marking this was, but his sharp Rathalos vision picked out two sets of deep gouges in the rock near the fluid. Those claw marks alone told him everything he needed to know—whatever left them was massive.
And he'd just stumbled into its territory.
His recently calmed nerves went taut again. Luo Yun scanned his surroundings anxiously, half-expecting some enormous beast to come barreling around a tree trunk, jaws agape and roaring for his blood.
With his current size, outrunning the Kulu-Ya-Ku had pushed him to his limits. Against a true giant, one of their strides would equal ten of his. How could he possibly escape?
As he nervously surveyed the area, a chill raced down his spine. The familiar lightness of his Acceleration trait sparked to life once more.
There was no giant monster, true enough. But there was something else.
A creature colored in yellow-green hues stared at him with cold, emotionless eyes. Black markings beneath its eye sockets gave it a perpetual scowl. Brown spikes jutted from its spine, and its slightly parted jaws revealed rows of serrated teeth. It looked like an oversized iguana, and it was watching him with the calculating gaze of a predator sizing up prey.
A Jaggi—one of the lowest-ranking carnivores in the ecosystem. Apart from reasonably sharp claws and passable biting strength, they had almost no remarkable features.
Their small size and poor stamina meant Jaggi typically only attacked smaller creatures. When confronted by anything larger, they'd often retreat up trees in cowardice. They occupied one of the lowest rungs on the food chain.
In terms of raw danger, this individual Jaggi posed even less threat than the Kulu-Ya-Ku from earlier. Its body was actually smaller than Luo Yun's current form.
But that wasn't what made Luo Yun's heart sink. Jaggi were pack hunters.
Right on cue, two more Jaggi emerged from the undergrowth. Together with the first, they formed a triangle around him, all while glancing skyward to check if this whelp had any adult Rathalos protection overhead.
"What did I do to deserve this kind of luck?"
This world showed absolutely no mercy to unprotected hatchlings!
Luo Yun's mind wailed in despair as he prepared to flee once again.