His boots crunched the dirt with each step, trying to keep his footing as best he could while walking along the raised path. The sun bore down on his back, but he ignored it; the air was too chilled and cold anyhow to really feel the heat. He wore a full set of Ioprey Gunner armor; the majority of his face covered as the orange and silver armor protected him from the elements, yet at the same time allow him enough weight to be mobile and quick. A Khezu Syringe Light Bowgun rested on his back, his go to weapon for when Wyverns attack. He was here for a purpose; a reason far beyond hunting a creature like a Seltas, or god forbid a Zinogre.

He was hunting a fellow Hunter, much like himself.

He could remember the Urgent Quest he was given; that every Hunter who had ever visited Val Habar's Gathering Hall was given, actually. Even the Wycademy was made known of this severe threat, and they rarely resorted to drastic measures.

Hunt down Repaia, the crazed Beast Master. The Gunner could remember the stories they told about Repaia, and not one of those tales was light and even heroic but all gaunt and dark. He was the first Hunter to ever form a bond with a Wyvern: a Seregios even more impressive. He tamed many more Wyverns, and eventually proposed the idea of training them to fight others so innocent Hunters wouldn't fight and die trying to slay just one beast. His intentions were noble...but alas the Guild considered him insane, and many mocked him for that.

As far as the Gunner recalled, that was when he said he would demonstrate the control he had over the Wyverns in his command, and what they could do.

…no one believed him, until Jaggi started getting more organized, Velociprey attacked Hunters in blitz maneuvers, and various others adapted and attacked in ways that directly made them able to counter even a trained Hunter team.

And no one wanted to get started on the Rathalos. That beast knew where to strike, when to strike, and especially how hard he was to strike. A few Hunters even theorized that in time Elder Dragons would bow to him, if given the chance.

After enough time it came time that Repaia had to be brought down, or he could destroy everything humanity held near and dear.

Thus, we come to the Gunner; standing at the end of the path, to what looked like an abandoned village; in Heaven's Mount. This was where Repaia was supposed to be located…inside that village. The Gunner pulled the Bowgun off his back and started walking; loading in some Pellet Shots just in case something popped out at him and tried to kill him. Walking through the town, the Gunner was able to see and realize this place had to have been desolate and isolate for at least a decade…no bodies, nor bones.

But he did see a few Jaggi, that scattered the second the Gunner aimed his firearm at them. He continued his trek through the ghost town…until he came across a cavern; untouched by time and ancient from the stalagmites in it. He continued to walk, descending into the cave; deep breathing finally ringing in his ears…like a large creature was resting.

He was nowhere near alone, and that made him unload the Pellets, and slid in a few Crag Shots…

The end of the cave came to him, and he went still when he saw what was making those huffs; a Seregios.

The winged beast had deep yellow scales with green flecks at the tip of each of them, and that iconic horn on its nose; scales all lowered as an indication that the beast was asleep. An interesting quirk was on this one, where it should have vivid red scales, it instead had deep sage colored ones...something that made this one rare. Its torso rose and fell, tailed curled up; the Flying Wyvern giving a twitch every so often; the beast's zygodactyl claws curling and uncurling.

In all its entirety, even while asleep, the Seregios was a dangerous, terrifying foe…and the Gunner was left alone with the beast. He snapped out of his fear induced stupor and refocused; lifting the gun and aiming at the creature's head. A good Crag Shot to the Seregios' head could be enough to blow the Wyvern's head clean off, or at the very least get a good start on trying to kill it. His finger rested on the trigger, and the Gunner prepared to fire.

Anamber eye greeted him.

The bellowing roar made him collapse on his back, gun on the ground, as he scrambled to get it only for a claw to clamp down on the weapon, crushing it into splinters and useless parts. This was it, this was how he was to die…at the hands of a Seregios out in the middle of nowhere, with no help coming for miles.

The Gunner grit his teeth and closed his eyes, hoping and praying his demise wouldn't be as gruesome as the beasts were known for.

"Varrick, stop." An aged, weathered voice called out from the light of the cavern's entrance, and astonishingly the Wyvern complied; lowering down its wings and backing away, giving the Gunner the chance to dart his head over to the one who had somehow saved his life.

The one who stood there was taller than him by a good head, with broad shoulders and a muscled look. He wore armor fashioned from a Hermitaur no doubt, but blackened and with red lines along it, covering his entire body and giving not an inch of what he looked without it; the armor caked with slashes and scratches to indicate it was almost as old as time. On his back rested a sheathed Charge Blade…fashioned from a Rathian's scales and parts with rust caking it, as well as a Cross Bowgun; simple yet dangerous.

It took the young man a good while to realize he was staring at Repaia, the crazed Beast Master.

"Why are you here, boy?" The man asked in that same tone. It wasn't menacing or dangerous, but more of…tired; like someone who had been working or Hunting for a long time. "Speak, don' wanna give Varrick over there an excuse to snap you up."

"I-I came here to…Hunt you down." The Gunner half expected to be struck down, but instead Repaia just sighed, shaking his head; a deep laugh leaving him.

"It took them nearly twenty years to finally get the gall to put something out on me for my efforts…really I feel offended it took so long," Another weak laugh escaped him, followed by rough coughing from him; the man walking past the Gunner and shaking his head.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Ivan…but…you don't seem as the stories say."

"You mean the stories made up by Hunters who came after me and nearly died? That's why they made the tales of me being tyrannical, monstrous, and nearly inhuman."

"But…you did fight them right?"

"Varrick and I fought them, but it was really me just telling the big ol' Seregios where to fly and who to strike." That was insane; this man really could bend the will of a Wyvern to turn on his own kind! "But, I can tell you're just wanting to get this over with, so go ahead and try; there should be a Sword and Shield outside left behind when a Hunter tried to come here alone. Go get it and let's get this over with...I just want to rest afterwards before I go investigate that disturbance." Repaia started walking…and Ivan stopped him with a shout.

"Not like this."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not doing it like this. You're not some feared great destroyer of the world who can rally monsters against humans…you're…you're…"

"An old man. I've been doing this a long, long time. And I'm tired; of people never truly understanding the truth. These beasts are a part of nature; being here long before us. Some cannot be tamed nor domesticated yes, but many can." A shrill whistle left him, and Ivan jerked around when several dozen Jaggi ran past him, yipping and cawing at Repaia; much like how dogs would for their master when they hadn't seen him for a long time.

Or for how Jaggi would greet their Great Jaggi; their alpha and often father to many of them.

"These Jaggi are a good example; normally savage and annoying to Hunters. I tamed and domesticated these one; they'll sniff out and track large prey and guide me to them, like faithful hounds, though when it comes time for one to grow up and be the Great Jaggi I let him go somewhere to form his own pack. I need to visit a few of them in the Everwood when the chance arises."

"Jaggi are one thing but a Seregios? Those things are iconic for razor-edge scales being fired at hunters and nearly killing them instantly. How the hell did you manage to tame one, let alone all the other beasts and Wyverns Hunters have seen you using to fight others?"

"Hah! Now that, my dear boy, is a long tale. Do you remember the legend of the Gore Magala, and the horrific Frenzy Virus the beast expelled…twas a bit before those dreaded times that I was much like you, until things changed…and I found Varrick." Repaia sat down on an old chair, the Seregios right behind him, head lifted as it watched Ivan. "Twenty years ago, was when I wasn't the infamous Beast Master who uses Wyverns and the like to desecrate humanity's fortifications, nor was I the madman to talk with and befriend a Najarala, and I was nowhere near the maniac to use a pack of Velociprey to hunt and take down a Kecha Wacha…I was just a young man named Marcus Finch…who made the grievous mistake to be in the Everwood at the right time and the right place; to meet the best friend of my life."

To Be Continued…