If given the chance to develop a ranged attack, Logan would undoubtedly choose something like a Kirin's thunder cannon. Power aside, the sheer cool factor alone tempted him immensely.
But ionizing air with electricity requires enormous energy, and controlling the current's path is a massive challenge. Electricity doesn't travel straight through the air—it branches wildly, like cracks in glass.
By comparison, simple thrown weapons offer the best cost-to-performance ratio for ranged attacks. After all, humans—the so-called "terrifying upright apes"—first achieved dimensional superiority not with strength, but by throwing stones.
Through centuries of cultural and historical evolution, humans invented dozens, even hundreds, of throwing weapons. Among the most powerful was the heavy short spear: tipped with iron and backed by mass, it could pierce thick wooden shields—though it had limited range and high demands on both the weapon and its wielder.
Logan wouldn't evolve disposable short spears on his own body. Ignoring the mechanics of launching them, the sheer nutrient loss per attack would be unbearable. He lacked something like Nergigante's unreasonable, ultra-rapid regeneration.
Beyond spears, another throwing weapon had left a bold mark on human history: the sling.
An ancient weapon, its origins tracing back to the Paleolithic era. Incredibly simple: just a long cord or leather strip, plus whatever stones were lying around.
It generated high centrifugal force through swinging, hurling its payload with surprising force. In skilled hands, its lethal range could exceed a hundred meters.
Add a stick to one end, use standardized clay or lead bullets, and its maximum range could reach 400 meters, with kinetic energy nearing 200 joules—rivaling that of an ordinary pistol round.
Undoubtedly perfect for Logan. He lacked cords, but he had a long, powerful tail.
This tail made up two-thirds of his length and contained some of the most flexible muscles in his body. When whipped, tip effects easily produced sonic booms. With only minor modifications, it could become a qualified ranged weapon.
...
Time flew like a white steed through a narrow gap. Another half-month passed in the blink of an eye.
Half of his evolution points went toward further basic physical enhancements; the rest all into his tail.
As the familiar warm current surged, the muscles within his tail underwent new changes. Long strips wrapped around the caudal bones subdivided finely into numerous independent units.
This unique structure—somewhat like a human tongue—made the tail far more precise and flexible. Without the limits of a segmented skeleton, it could bend and coil almost like an octopus tentacle.
While the internals changed, the half-meter spike at the tail's tip and the connecting scales began a wondrous mutation.
The scales elongated and thinned, shifting from rounded teardrops to narrow, feather-like shapes.
Internally, their composition adjusted as well. The tips and sharpened edges remained hardened; elsewhere, the ratio of spider silk protein soared. This reduced overall hardness—making them somewhat vulnerable to sharp, direct strikes—but granted them extreme toughness.
Once complete, the roots of the feather-scales gradually detached from the skin, linked only by essential nutrient capillaries.
The surrounding root muscles transformed as well—shifting from simple voluntary contraction to a sphincter-like mechanism: always contracted, relaxing only on conscious command. This firmly gripped the feathers to prevent accidental loss.
Thus, when whipping his tail, Logan needed only to relax those specific muscles—the feather-scales would sling out like stones from a sling.
...
The changes settled; another week passed. In this growth period, Logan reached nine meters in length.
He stood in an open area at the border between the Ancient Forest and the Wildspire Waste. Hundreds of meters away, he whipped his tail forcefully at a large tree.
Instantly—a fleeting white flash cut through the air. A sharp crack followed; a faint, ribbon-like trail of white smoke dispersed. Even before the sound arrived, deep holes had already appeared in the broadleaf tree's trunk.
Logan approached, clawing away the thick bark. Only narrow scars remained on the hard inner fibers—the foot-long feather-scales had embedded themselves deep inside.
The expected power satisfied him. It was hardly surprising.
A six-meter tail, driven by tons of force—the whip-tip effect far exceeded that of a human's one-meter sling. Its kinetic energy wasn't just at the level of a pistol round—it surpassed ordinary rifle bullets, nearing that of large-caliber firearms.
But this wasn't the end. Reinvesting the points from this week into his tail brought about new changes.
The familiar warmth surged. From the venom sac ducts down to the tail spike, tiny branches grew—like microscopic suckers—adhering to the roots of each feather-scale.
Simultaneously, the thin feathers gained a central hollow channel, with delicate veins radiating outward to the sharp tips and edges, much like true feathers.
When the muscles at the tail's base contracted, pressurizing the venom sac, the toxin would flow through the fine ducts to every feather's edge, leaving a wet, deadly trace. Anything wounded by these scales would be envenomed.
Against that Royal Ludroth pack now—he'd only need a few distant tail whips to annihilate most of them.
Only the extreme vitality and toughness of this world's monsters allowed even the male Ludroth to potentially survive a direct hit.
(End of Chapter 39)