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Chapter 163 - Chapter 163: Wait—You Exploded Already?

As the blinding white light finally faded, Logan opened his eyes. The world's colors gradually returned, overlapping phantom images realigned, and only then did he let out a breath of relief.

The flash from the Tzitzi-Ya-Ku was so intense that even with his back turned, he couldn't fully avoid it—and the vaunted, hawk-like vision he inherited from the Rathalos had only made matters worse.

For the light to still affect him so badly with his eyes shut showed just how powerful that flash truly was.

Logan watched the creature's retreating figure. He didn't think much of it. Annoying as the Tzitzi-Ya-Ku was, he wasn't so petty as to lose his temper over something so small.

After unleashing a single charged fireball in its direction, the matter of being flashed was, to him, settled.

Whether or not the Tzitzi-Ya-Ku managed to escape unscathed from that fireball was no longer his concern.

A fair exchange—that was how he saw it. He had eaten a flash; it was only natural to return a charged fireball in kind.

"Grah!"

What—again?

Logan felt his irritation spike as he caught sight of yet another flock of Legiana winging their way toward him.

There were simply too many Legiana in the Coral Highlands. With no natural predators, abundant resources, plentiful prey, and the advantage of living in groups, their numbers had multiplied unchecked.

If not for their lack of migratory behavior and their strong homing instincts, they would have long since thrown the entire ecosystem into chaos.

Exhaling slowly, Logan forced down his rising anger.

His eyes narrowed coldly on the approaching flock. Spreading his wings wide, his entire body burst into flames as the Pressure trait flared to its fullest.

A crushing aura swept out in an instant, the sheer weight of it crashing down on the Legiana.

The flock immediately broke into chaos, panic shattering their formation as they all wheeled around in a frantic retreat.

"Too much heat—run for it! We can't mess with him!!"

They fled with just as much haste as they had swaggered in.

In the blink of an eye, the flock of Legiana scattered clean away. Even many of the monsters that had been loitering nearby swiftly withdrew, leaving this stretch of land eerily quiet.

The flames cloaking Logan's body gradually receded. With a resounding roar, he turned and flew off in another direction.

The Legiana incident was nothing more than a brief interlude. Under the Pressure Trait's oppressive aura, unless among them appeared a Shrieking Legiana to rally the flock into a reckless counterattack, it was certain that for days to come, these Legiana would instinctively swerve away the moment they spotted Logan.

Updrafts slid past his sides. By riding the currents, any winged creature could move freely among the plateaus, weaving through the terrain. Here, Logan could fly an entire day without landing and never feel fatigue.

What puzzled him, though, was that after all these days exploring so many regions, every monster he encountered had been Frenzied. And among those, the strongest he had seen was no more than a Frenzied Ebony Odogaron.

Yet even that Ebony Odogaron had been ganged up on and slain by a flock of Legiana. Logan hadn't needed to intervene at all—the creatures of the Coral Highlands seemed capable of settling matters on their own.

So then, what was the point of him coming here?

As he pondered this, considering catching a Raphinos to fill his stomach, a flicker of movement slid across the edge of his vision—a fleeting shadow of black.

It had only passed briefly through the coral thickets, yet Logan was certain: that was undoubtedly a Gore Magala. There was no mistaking those wing-arms, dark as a draped cloak. No second monster in the Monster Hunter World bore such traits.

Logan wheeled around, adjusting the airflow to hush the sound of his flight, and pursued in the direction the Gore Magala had gone.

Soon, after threading through reef and coral platforms, he finally tracked its presence to a dim hollow formed by coral and rock.

Tiny black scales rode the passing breeze, drifting onto Logan's flame-clad body, where they burned to fuel his fire.

It was a tunnel-like cavern, stretching deep into shadow.

Watching the black scale-dust swirl in the passage, Logan knew full well he had already stepped into the Gore Magala's awareness.

The creature inside was likely ready—either to slip away or to lunge suddenly with a strike meant to catch him off guard.

Logan's eyes narrowed as he circled the area, scouting carefully. Only when he confirmed there were no other exits around the cavern did he finally breathe easier.

"Good. That makes things simpler."

He had come here as a hunter, not as prey to be trampled.

The power of each Gore Magala varied, sometimes to a terrifying degree. But as long as one had lived for years and undergone several molts, it could normally reach a strength comparable to the level of a police-class monster.

So, cautious as ever, Logan chose not to venture into the cave and hand the advantage to his foe.

Instead, he returned to hover above the cavern's mouth. Based on the terrain he had surveyed, he drew in a deep breath. His flame sac—or rather, now it should be called an explosive flame sac—began channeling fire energy, flames steadily gathering in his throat.

Gradually, as the temperature of the flames climbed higher, Logan's breath gathered into a torrent of searing fire—orange-red at its core, edged with a shimmering outer blaze of violet-blue.

With a sweep of his wings, he hurled it forth. Empowered by immense wind pressure, the terrifying breath surged into the cavern.

The visible scale-dust, the coral thickets—all were incinerated in the unbearable heat.

The scorching fire and crushing wind pressure carbonized the coral pillars, scattering them to ash. Bright light pierced through the cracks of the cavern.

At the deepest end, the Gore Magala—long since aware of Logan's presence—had chosen to lie in wait. It had already accelerated its release of scale-dust, filling the depths with a black haze, while condensing in its maw a concentrated blend of Frenzy Virus and other volatile substances.

Its plan had been simple: wait for Logan to step inside, then ignite the scale-dust in an explosion.

In such a narrow passage, with such a thick concentration of dust, the blast would have been devastating. Even this creature outside—the one that Gore Magala felt was a deep threat—would have been caught unguarded and torn apart.

But it hadn't expected this. Truly, it hadn't.

A violent gale rushed in first, sweeping the dense scale-dust back toward it. And then came the surge of flame.

To the Gore Magala's senses, the world turned blindingly bright in that instant.

A being who had lived all its life in shadow, it finally knew what light meant.

[Boom!]

The ground shook, the reefs roared apart.

The massive coral pillars that supported this stretch of land crumbled under the thunderous explosion, collapsing in a chain reaction. Logan, unprepared, was caught in the blast and thrown a great distance.

When he steadied himself again, he saw the reef and coral platforms shattering, piece by piece, plunging into the abyss below.

Among the falling debris, Logan's eyes locked on a shadow—a pitch-black form tumbling with the broken coral. Its body was torn and ragged, wings mangled, chest blasted into shreds, with half its head missing altogether.

At this moment, Logan found himself in the same confusion that Flame Rathalos had once faced.

"No way… that was just my breath attack!"

The flames he spewed were purely the conversion of fire-element energy. By adjusting the ratio, Logan could decide whether his breath would carry explosive properties or remain simple flame.

That was precisely why he could switch at will between explosive fireballs and normal breath attacks.

So Logan was certain: what he had unleashed was nothing more than high-temperature flame. Combined with intense wind pressure, it simply ensured the fire penetrated every corner of the cavern.

By exploiting the coral's intolerance of high heat, he had forced the Gore Magala out while also collapsing the cavern.

There was no way such a terrifying explosion should have happened.

Which meant, from Logan's perspective, the problem couldn't have been his breath. It had to be something the Gore Magala had done.

'What on earth did that Gore Magala do—to actually blow itself apart?

Or could it really be that its resistance to fire was so low it could literally explode under my flames?'

Logan couldn't make sense of it. In all the records of his past life, nothing about Gore Magala mentioned such a trait. Even that one in the Ancient Forest—after the initial blast, it had withstood the Fire Wyvern pack's flames without ever exploding.

Puzzling over it for a while, Logan finally abandoned the idea of flying down to the Rotten Vale to investigate. With a sigh, he turned and left.

But now he was left with a strange, unsatisfying feeling.

It was like he had been ready for a grand fight, even done all the scouting and mental preparation—

Only for it to end like this.

"Damn… I hadn't even gone all out, and you're already down?"

That awkward, anticlimactic sensation left him feeling more than a little off.

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