The Lagiacrus crawled out of the water like a gargantuan crocodile, its four claws digging deep into the sand as its powerful tail swayed.
Its long neck, held high like a cobra, was crested with jagged fins. Its scales were a deep, vibrant cerulean, with two rows of electric-generating spikes protruding from its back.
Stalking onto the shore with predatory grace, the Lagiacrus was far more massive than the Great Jagras.
As it claimed the beach, the Great Jagras began to back away, letting out a series of low, warning barks—clearly intimidated by the sheer pressure radiating from the Lord of the Seas.
"It really is a Lagiacrus! Isn't this supposed to be 'cut content' for the New World?" Arlow whispered from his hiding spot, his eyes wide with shock.
In the early development footage of Monster Hunter: World, a Lagiacrus had been seen roaming the watery areas of the Ancient Forest. Later, it was rumored that technical issues with its skeletal animation—specifically how its belly interacted with the uneven terrain—led to it being cut from the final game.
But here, reality didn't care about technical limitations. In a forest bordering the ocean, it made perfect sense for a Lagiacrus to be an apex predator.
"More and more legends are stepping onto the stage," Arlow murmured, his heart racing.
In just two days, he had encountered an Anjanath, a Nargacuga, a Rathian, a Great Jagras, and now a Lagiacrus.
This continent, largely untouched by the Guild, was a true paradise for monsters. The game was only a fraction of the truth; this was a world of diversity beyond imagination.
ROAR! The Lagiacrus lunged, its massive jaws snapping shut on a Kestodon, killing it instantly. The Great Jagras skeltered away, tail between its legs. But just as the Lagiacrus prepared to feast—
ROAR!
A thunderous, screeching cry tore through the sky.
Whoosh! Accompanied by the violent flapping of wings, a massive fireball plummeted from the heavens, exploding directly in front of the Lagiacrus.
BOOM! The shockwave sent the lingering Great Jagras tumbling. Its frontal scales were scorched black, and it scrambled frantically to get back on its feet.
The Lagiacrus let out a furious shriek. The "Impact Shells" on its back crackled with azure electricity. Within seconds, arcs of lightning began to dance across its body. Its meal interrupted, the Lord of the Seas entered a state of pure rage.
Zap!
A stray bolt of electricity struck the struggling Great Jagras, sending the poor brute into a fit of localized seizures.
High above, the challenger roared, flames licking the edges of its serrated teeth.
Descending from the clouds was the King of the Skies—Rathalos!
"Holy... It's a classic showdown!" Arlow's eyes were glued to the scene. Seeing the King of the Skies confront the Lord of the Seas felt like watching the cinematic intro to Monster Hunter 3 come to life.
Two kings. One ruled the heavens, the other the depths. Red vs. Blue. Fire vs. Lightning. They were the ultimate rivals of the franchise.
The Rathalos flared its wings and dived, claws outstretched. The Lagiacrus twisted its serpentine body, narrowly dodging the overhead strike.
Missing its mark, the Rathalos instead snatched up the Kestodon carcass, claiming the kill as its own.
The Lagiacrus retaliated instantly, spitting a globule of concentrated lightning. Not to be outdone, the Rathalos countered with an explosive fireball.
CRACK-BOOM! Lightning and fire collided in mid-air, creating a blinding flash that kicked up a wall of sand and dust.
When the dust settled, the Rathalos was already ascending, clutching the prey in its talons. The Lagiacrus, unable to fly, could only snap its jaws at the retreating shadow, letting out a frustrated, earth-shaking roar.
The advantage of flight had won the day. The Lagiacrus turned back to the ocean, slipping beneath the waves in a huff, leaving only the collateral victim—the limping Great Jagras—to crawl back toward the forest.
"Now's my chance!" Arlow emerged from the bushes and hurried toward the site of the clash. The Scoutflies on his belt swarmed out, attaching themselves to a pile of charred, broken scales left behind by the Great Jagras.
From there, the green trail led straight into the dense forest, following the Jagras's trail of blood and singed hair.
He couldn't take on a Rathalos or a Lagiacrus yet, but a wounded Great Jagras? That was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
Following the Scoutflies, Arlow tracked the beast deep into the woods. The Great Jagras wasn't being subtle; crushed ferns, claw marks on tree trunks, and droplets of blood made it easy to follow.
"Is it going back to its nest? Or looking for an easy snack?"
Arlow stopped as the Scoutflies illuminated the entrance to a dark cavern. He hesitated.
Ecologically, the Great Jagras nested in these caves, and its pack of smaller Jagras would be inside for protection. Entering meant fighting a wounded Large Monster and a swarm of minions in a confined space. Not ideal.
"Wait, I remember the caves in the game usually have multiple exits. Maybe it's heading out the back to find a safer place to digest?"
As he weighed his options, a sneaky, bipedal figure caught his eye.
"A Kulu-Ya-Ku?"
A bird-like wyvern with pale yellow scales was creeping toward the cave. It had a raptor-like build, thin limbs, and a head that looked like a prehistoric dodo, topped with vibrant red and yellow feathers.
"I'll let you clear the way," Arlow whispered, trailing the "Egg Thief" into the cave.
The cave was humid and warm, lit by the eerie glow of bioluminescent moss. The Kulu-Ya-Ku moved with the confidence of a repeat offender. Its target: the nursery.
The bird-wyvern began scratching at a mound of rotting vegetation and dirt. Within moments, it unearthed an egg the size of a basketball—a Great Jagras egg.
Crack! The Kulu-Ya-Ku used its sharp beak to chisel a hole in the shell and began greedily slurping the contents.
"Unexpected bonus," Arlow thought, hiding behind a stalagmite. Seeing the Kulu-Ya-Ku gorging itself, a realization hit him.
"The Rathalos and Rathian hunting together... the Jagras eggs... is it breeding season?"
It made sense. The King and Queen sharing a territory usually meant they were protecting a nest. While stealing a Rath-egg was a suicide mission (unless you wanted a 'Husband and Wife' Double Battle), Arlow remembered his lore. In the New World, a powerful Rathalos would often mate with multiple females.
The strongest Rathian would stay with him in the prime hunting grounds of the forest, while the "weaker" ones would head to the Wildspire Waste to raise their brood alone.
I can't mess with the couple, but maybe a single mom Rathian isn't home? Arlow shook the thought away. He didn't even know the way to the Wildspire Waste yet.
CRACK!
Another egg met its end. Arlow peeked out. "Hey, leave one for me, you glutton!"
The Kulu-Ya-Ku finished its third egg, dug up one last prize, and tucked it under its arm, heading toward a different exit.
"Eating and taking out for delivery?" Arlow sighed. Kulu-Ya-Kus were famously cautious; this one was clearly taking its leftovers back to a safe spot.
Once it was gone, Arlow rushed to the mound. He dug frantically into the soft earth, but found nothing but broken shells and dirt.
"You really ate every last one!" Arlow hissed.
But just as he was cursing the bird's greed, the Kulu-Ya-Ku came sprinting back from the direction it had just left, the egg still clutched in its claws.
"What now?" Arlow ducked into a side tunnel.
The Kulu-Ya-Ku went sprinting past him toward the main entrance, followed by a roar of absolute fury.
"The landlord is home!"
The wounded, bloated Great Jagras he had been tracking had returned. It wasn't protecting the eggs out of fatherly love—Jagras didn't really do that—but it was its territory, and it was pissed.
The Great Jagras chased the thief out of the cave. But the "Great" one was slow and injured, while the Kulu-Ya-Ku was built for sprinting.
"Wait, if the Jagras is at the front door, and the Kulu-Ya-Ku just ran out... what's out there?"
THUD!
A massive maw snapped down from above the cave entrance.
Arlow watched from the shadows as the Kulu-Ya-Ku was pinned to the dirt. A predator shook the bird like a rag doll, its neck snapping with a sickening crunch.
Arlow broke into a cold sweat.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
The newcomer stepped into the light, dropping the lifeless Kulu-Ya-Ku. The Great Jagras, seeing its territory blocked, let out a defiant roar.
"Are you serious? You're actually challenging an Anjanath?!"
The "Forest Tyrant" was standing right outside. Though not as high as a Rathalos in the food chain, the Anjanath was the undisputed bully of the undergrowth.
Arlow remembered the "Turf War" animation from the game. The Anjanath would pick up a Great Jagras by the neck, slam it into the ground, and bite down until it stopped moving.
It was violent. It was messy.
ROAR!
The Anjanath didn't take the challenge lightly. It lowered its massive head, shoving its snout into the cave entrance and screaming into the Great Jagras's face.
The Jagras barked back, but it had underestimated the Anjanath's temper. The pink brute coiled its legs and shoved its way into the tunnel, the rock walls groaning under its weight.
"Crap! Time to go!" Arlow didn't care about the eggs anymore. He turned and ran toward the back exit.
The tunnel was narrow, and the roars behind him were getting closer. He could hear the scraping of scales against stone.
Light appeared ahead. Arlow burst out of the back of the cave just as the Great Jagras scrambled out behind him, followed immediately by the Anjanath's massive head bursting through the opening like a battering ram.
The Anjanath flared its nasal crest and its back-sails, venting heat. It ignored the Jagras for a second, its eyes scanning the area.
Then, it locked onto Arlow.
It paused. It sniffed the air, its nostrils twitching with a strange, focused recognition.
ROAR!
The scream was louder, more personal than the one it had given the Jagras.
"No way... are you the same one that chased me the first day?!" Arlow's eyes widened.
Talk about a small world. Was it really still mad about that one Dung Pod?
Apparently, this Anjanath held a grudge.
"You've got the wrong guy! Goodbye!" Arlow bolted.
ROAR!
The Tyrant gave chase.
"You absolute camper!" Arlow yelled as he sprinted through the brush. "If I had another Dung Pod, I'd make you eat it!"
The forest was in an uproar. As Arlow scrambled to find a way to lose the beast, he realized he was being driven deeper into the heart of the woods.
The breeding season had made everything aggressive. As he burst through a thicket of ferns, a green, bipedal wyvern—the Rathian—looked up from her patrol.
She ignored the tiny human and directed a venomous, ear-splitting shriek at the Anjanath. Her talons flexed, ready to defend her territory.
The Anjanath skidded to a halt, forced to choose between a grudge and a Queen.
Arlow didn't stick around to see who won. He dived into the deepest brush he could find and didn't stop running until the roars faded into the distance.
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