According to the original plan, once Altaïr confirmed the Gore Magala's location, he was supposed to mark it with a Paintball.
The Meowcenaries' Felynes would then take over the continuous tracking while he returned to a nearby camp to rest, eat, and recover his strength for the Hunt ahead.
But something unusual about the target's appearance changed his mind.
He clearly remembered that every illustrated guide, reference work, and scholar's account described Gore Magala as pure black from head to tail.
As the Institute Director had put it, one would struggle to find another Large Monster anywhere in the world that was more thoroughly black.
Careful observation confirmed that the Gore Magala's scales, shell, and wing membranes all had the same dull, matte texture. They produced no conspicuous reflections even in direct sunlight, perhaps a distinctive trait evolved to help the species conceal itself.
That made the streak of golden white along its back deeply concerning.
Had the sheen been purple or red, he might have paid it less attention and assumed it was something like a bloodstain.
But golden white... According to the reference materials, a fully evolved Shagaru Magala was precisely that color, as though cast from platinum and gold.
Could the Gore Magala before him be transforming into a Shagaru Magala?
Yet the scale powder and Frenzy Virus spread by a Shagaru Magala were said to contain a special substance that suppressed other Gore Magala and prevented them from completing their evolution.
Was this Gore Magala somehow different? Or was it simply too far away, leaving the Shagaru Magala's suppressive influence too weak to affect it?
Altaïr could find no answers, so he decided to keep watching.
The man and Felyne continually adjusted their positions, always remaining downwind as they trailed the Gore Magala from a distance.
The staggering Gore Magala also seemed remarkably "dutiful," stopping every few minutes to beat its wings and scatter more scale powder.
With the powder drifting straight toward them, Altaïr and Lichens could only cover their faces with cloth and endure it in silence.
After they had tracked it for a while, the Gore Magala suddenly raised its head and turned from side to side, sniffing the air.
Just as Altaïr thought it had detected them, the Gore Magala broke into a run and accelerated in a particular direction.
"Did it find something? Is there an unusual scent in the air?" Altaïr whispered to Lichens.
Lichens sniffed carefully several times. "I smell blood and decay, meow. There must be a corpse nearby, meow."
"A corpse?" Altaïr frowned. "Let's take a look."
The man and Felyne quickened their pace and followed.
Before long, they caught up with the Gore Magala. Just as Lichens had suspected, it was hunched beside the badly decomposed carcass of a Slagtoth, tearing off great mouthfuls and gulping down the foul-smelling flesh.
Judging by the color of its hide and flesh, the Slagtoth had probably died after contracting the Frenzy Virus.
Altaïr's frown deepened at the sight.
Here was another anomaly that contradicted the available research. Existing studies showed that Gore Magala had very little appetite, though no one knew exactly why. Some scholars believed the creatures could draw energy from infected Monsters by reabsorbing the virus within them.
This Gore Magala, however, devoured its meal with a ravenousness bordering on madness, as though it would die unless it kept eating.
Slagtoth were by no means small. An adult could approach fifteen meters in length, and no Large Flying Wyvern should need more than half of one to fill its stomach.
Yet the creature before them seemed incapable of feeling full. It kept eating until it had forced the entire badly decomposed Slagtoth carcass into its belly.
When the Gore Magala finally finished, its abdomen and back bulged so high that it almost looked pregnant. Even its gait had become an unsteady waddle, lending it a faintly comical appearance.
Altaïr and Lichens found nothing funny about it.
Such feeding behavior was clearly unnatural, and the unnatural often heralded unknown dangers.
Stuffed to bursting, the Gore Magala dug all four limbs into the ground and released a hoarse growl. Every muscle in its body tensed, then its spine thrust sharply upward.
"Crack! Snap!" A succession of fractures rang out, like a shelled creature molting, as the armored hide and scales along the Gore Magala's back split slightly.
The platinum gleam that had only faintly shown through its back immediately became much clearer.
But that was all. As though the effort had drained every last ounce of strength from its body, the Gore Magala collapsed and lay there panting heavily.
The damn thing was transforming!
There was no time to wonder how this Gore Magala had overcome the Shagaru Magala's pheromonal suppression and entered the molting stage. Their only task was to stop it.
They were confident they could handle one Gore Magala, but if this creature completed its transformation and evolved into a Shagaru Magala... it would become far more than their small group could face.
Knowing he could wait no longer, Altaïr rose from cover and fired two Paintballs. Their vivid, pungent paintberry juice splattered across the Gore Magala's body.
At the same time, he pulled out a red SOS Flare signaling an emergency and launched it into the sky.
The moment his companions saw the signal from the nearby camp, they would rush to his aid.
The flurry of movement naturally caught the Gore Magala's attention. Its head whipped around. Although it had yet to develop a visual organ like an eye, Altaïr still felt a skin-crawling "gaze" settle on him.
Facing the formidable enemy, Altaïr drew Rosenzahn from his back.
Forged from Espinas materials, the Dual Blades possessed both Fire and Poison. Fire could exploit Gore Magala's weakness, while Poison would steadily sap its stamina.
They could not match a Long Sword's raw offensive power, but their mobility made them the ideal choice for operating alone.
The Gore Magala braced itself on all fours and unleashed a piercing, guttural roar at the Hunter.
Altaïr did not attack immediately. He activated Demon Mode and began sprinting around the target at high speed.
He did not need to inflict serious damage yet. He only had to keep the creature too busy to attempt another molt.
Once his companions arrived, they would have ways to suppress it head-on.
Lichens joined the fight as well.
As an elite member of Kamura Village's Meowcenaries, Lichens had no permanent Hunter partner like the Palicoes did, but the Felyne's combat ability was no less formidable than that of those battle-hardened Felynes.
He reached behind himself, unfolded a massive shuriken almost as tall as he was, gripped its edge, and began spinning rapidly in place.
"Large Shuriken Technique, meow!" With a loud cry, Lichens hurled the weapon.
The shuriken spun through the air with a shrill whistle and slammed into the side of the Gore Magala's face, knocking its head aside and drawing its attention to Lichens.
Altaïr seized the opening and charged in from the Gore Magala's rear flank. With a sliding step, he slipped through the gap between its hind leg and wing membrane, his twin blades whirling into a blur of light.
Blade Dance!
Fire flaring from the blades ignited the thick layer of scale powder across the Gore Magala's wings, while their venom-coated edges sliced into gaps in the shell plating around its hind leg and injected poison into the Monster's body.
The fire triggered the Gore Magala's instinctive aversion. It immediately abandoned the Felyne darting about before it, raised its head, and wheeled around as its long, powerful tail lashed out.
Altaïr was ready. He used a sliding step to cut short the lingering momentum of his Blade Dance, then pushed off with both feet and flipped backward through the air, acrobatically clearing the sweeping tail.
A glint of deep blue flashed in Altaïr's eyes as he slipped past the Monster's counterattack by a hair.
The perfectly timed evade activated blue demon mode, sharpening his focus and raising his speed another notch.
Even so, he did not confront the Gore Magala head-on. He used Demon Flurry Rush to open the distance, striking once before immediately retreating.
This Gore Magala was clearly unlike those described in the records. Its attack habits, movements, and even its weak points might all differ.
Until his companions arrived, he needed to gather as much information as possible.
Altaïr raced around the Gore Magala at high speed.
"Come on. Let's see what you can do."
* * *
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