Over at Astera, things moved fast. After the message came in, aside from the Analytics Director—whose smile vanished, his whole demeanor turning much darker, as he sat alone on the coast for an entire day—the Commander swiftly issued multiple orders.
These included, but were not limited to, assigning a group of scholars from the botanical institute to split off a team specifically to ensure the logistics for the mobile research base.
He also arranged for a group of hunters to drive off the monsters near the mobile research base, at minimum maintaining things until the mobile research base would not be swarmed by the monsters in that region.
Finally, the craftsmen responsible for designing the airship were told to hurry up with their research, trying to find a new kind of material within the available supplies that could repair—or even replace—the hot-air balloon fabric.
Orders were issued one after another in a steady, methodical manner. The more it was at times like this, the more the Commander's years of self-cultivation let him remain calm!
That was, until several Radiant Fire Wyverns arrived from deep within the Ancient Forest, bringing a few hunters with them.
Looking at the new clauses in his hands, the Commander's hands trembled slightly.
Calm?
The fact that he could hold himself together at all right now already counted as self-restraint.
If the Admiral appeared in front of him right now, he would absolutely gear up and have it out with the Admiral!
Of course, the kind where the Admiral wasn't allowed to fight back!
Ten years! Do you know how he got through those ten bleak years?
He had finally paid off the debts, and logistics had finally gotten back on track! He had just received Logan's unrestricted hunting permit, allowing him to boost hunters' strength again and push forward the research progress on ecological monsters.
These two genuinely pleasant things, put together, should have meant even greater joy!
So why…
"Admiral!! You really deserve to die!!"
At that moment, the Provisions Manager happened to be passing by the conference platform and faintly heard a teeth-gritted, suppressed low growl. But when she turned to look, the Commander's somewhat aged face still wore the same deep-well-stillness, steady expression.
The Provisions Manager scratched her head, hugged the notebook filled with a whole mass of numbers, and hurried toward the circulation area.
Her Fourth Fleet had finally managed to ease up a little, but as the Fourth Fleet Master, she was still a long way from being able to rest. The logistics staff had been working overtime for years, constantly under high-pressure overtime conditions, and right now was exactly when they needed psychological reassurance. She had to keep going to encourage them and spread some "positive energy"!!
As the Fourth Fleet Master stepped forward with a smile, the Commander's calm voice came from the conference platform behind her.
"Please wait a moment. Since you're here, there are some things I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you with."
The Commander's tone did not change much, but in that instant, every hair on the Fourth Fleet Master's body stood on end. She had a strong premonition that if she turned her head right now, something very bad would definitely happen.
Her heart resisted, but her duties as the Provisions Manager made her body turn around, looking slightly awkward.
"Commander, is there something you need?"
Ten minutes later, a furious roar like a Rathian's spread from the conference platform across Astera.
"Admiral! You really deserve to die!!"
No matter what, the agreement had already been signed, and what had happened had already happened. Watching the Radiant Fire Wyverns escort the hunter squad and the supply squad as they departed, the Commander let out a low sigh, and from the corner of his eye he looked at the Huntsman, who was sitting cross-legged by the railing, hugging a greatsword and doing blade meditation; the words he had been about to say ended up stuck in his chest.
This guy's timing for choosing blade meditation really is perfect.
...
Beneath the Ancient Tree, a cat resource-gathering team returned to the Ancient Tree with big bundles of supplies on their backs. After climbing into a large hoist basket that looked just like an elevator, one of the cats cautiously pulled out an egg from its big pack—an egg fully half as tall as it was.
"I'm telling you, eggs like this should just be handed over to the canteen for processing, meow!"
"No, meow. This egg is already in its hatching period, meow. The hunting rules clearly say you can't hunt young and you can't kill monster eggs that are about to hatch!"
"Then you can't bring it back either, meow! What if whatever's inside affects the Fire Wyvern lords, meow?"
"I—I'll find a way, meow!"
After a bout of arguing, the "elevator" fell quiet again. Only that Grimalkyne remained, holding the Pukei-Pukei egg, which rocked from time to time, proving that the young creature inside was still alive.
That night, the Grimalkyne—resting its cheek on its paw, frowning as it stared at the egg—was still thinking about how it should handle this thing, when, just as it was deep in thought, a cracking sound suddenly came from the eggshell.
Right after that, under the Grimalkyne's astonished gaze, an ugly-cute Pukei-Pukei hatchling broke out of its shell. Its body was still slick with egg fluid as it stared wide-eyed at the Grimalkyne, eye to eye. In the end, it let out a weak little cry and affectionately licked the Grimalkyne in front of it—the very first living being it had seen since birth.
The next day, Blazefire Village urgently convened a meeting. That very afternoon, a Grimalkyne carrying a Pukei-Pukei hatchling that was still unable to move much relocated from Blazefire Village to the base of the Ancient Tree. The place where they lived was even lower than where the Fire Wyverns resided, and was already close to the Ancient Forest.
That night, the Grimalkyne solemnly and seriously hung a Fire Wyvern identity scale around the Pukei-Pukei hatchling's neck. Overjoyed, it hugged the Pukei-Pukei—whose size was not much smaller than its own—around the neck and excitedly let out a series of meowing cries.
"From now on, you're also a member of the Ancient Tree, meow!"
...
Time flows on, years pass like an arrow.
In the blink of an eye, four years went by~~~
Four years later, the Ancient Forest was still in an extremely chaotic state. The frenzied slaughter among the monsters in this layer showed no sign of stopping at all.
After all, monsters possessed astonishing vitality. Even the near-omnipresent effluvial erosion like that of Blackveil Vaal Hazak in the past had taken two to three full years to finally meet the forest's needs. Therefore, even with Logan fanning the flames this time, the chaotic killing continued right up to the present.
In the distant seas of the New World, a colossal entity slowly moved through the ocean. A massive volcanic crater hovered above the sea surface, and countless Barnos along with many volcanic-environment creatures gathered as much as possible toward the vicinity of the crater, so as not to be washed away by the endless seawater.
And farther away from it, a full ten of the latest dragonbone colossal ships had raised their sails, continuously advancing along its route of movement.
Inside the holds, large numbers of hunters from all over the Old World—from different guilds, different kingdoms, and even different organizations—were all wearing the most basic leather armor as they drank heartily.
There was no helping it: such a long voyage was simply too boring. They were a group of energetic elite hunters who could never sit still. After getting familiar with the use of the slinger early on after boarding, aside from getting to know each other's scribes, all they could do was keep holding banquets, boasting and chatting about everything under the sun over alcohol, just to pass this tedious stretch of time.
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