Actions speak louder than words—there was no room for shame or any lingering desire to keep fighting. The moment the thought of fleeing fast flashed into the Jyuratodus's mind, it was already bolting.
But that wouldn't do.
Seeing the Jyuratodus flatten itself to the ground and start burrowing into the swamp, Asterion hurriedly spat the molten slag from his crimson flame sac at it.
Boom! Boom-boom-boom!
First came a single lava ball that slammed down, followed immediately by a violent explosion.
The swamp mud at the impact point was instantly baked into dry earth, then blasted apart along with the fresh slurry surging in from the sides, hurling the Jyuratodus—which had already buried half its head in the muck—back into the open air.
He absolutely could not let this Jyuratodus return to its nest, or rather, to that area where multiple Jyuratoduss had built their lairs.
If it escaped, Asterion would never dare pursue it.
No matter how poor the relations between Jyuratoduss might be, the moment a Glavenus appeared before them, they would undoubtedly team up to take down the Glavenus first.
They might not even need to join forces.
"Roar!!!"
Its escape plan thwarted, the Jyuratodus flinched at first. It rapidly backpedaled toward the open ground beside the explosion, then shook its body frantically like a golden retriever fresh from the water, desperate to fling off the mud clinging to it from the blast.
No, not mud, but the molten slag Asterion had spewed from his mouth.
Still sparking, steaming where it met water and cooled on impact... The Jyuratodus thrashed wildly to shake off the residue stuck to its body, ignoring its defenses entirely and actively shedding the mud armor that coated its surface.
Asterion stared in shock at the scene. Truth be told, the Jyuratodus's reaction was overly extreme, as if—wait?
Asterion suddenly realized something.
Because he once again caught that familiar oppressive aura, one he'd been forcing himself to adapt to with all his might—the aura of the Lavasioth!
Back when he'd devoured the minerals spewed by the Lavasioth, some of the ore and rock slag had been stored in his crimson flame sac. In his growing acclimation to this Elder Dragon pressure, he'd nearly forgotten about it.
But clearly, the Jyuratodus couldn't ignore the Lavasioth's Elder Dragon oppressive force.
Unlike the new mineral secretions on his tail, this wasn't something Asterion had swallowed, digested, and made his own—it was raw, unaltered slag bearing the Lavasioth's scent, preserved exactly as it was.
To the Jyuratodus right now, it felt like countless Elder Dragons were crawling all over its body, their auras constantly triggering its instincts, urging it to flee, filling it with terror.
An unexpected boon.
And an opportunity!
Without hesitation, he twisted his hips and whipped his sword tail forward, slashing horizontally—and landing a direct hit!
A child wielding a weapon is more threatening than an unarmed adult—that's the principle at play. Even though Asterion was still young, the Glavenus 's signature razor-sharp sword tail gave him the power to harm adult monsters.
To escape the Elder Dragon aura, the Jyuratodus had personally stripped away its mud armor, lowering its defenses even further.
Strike while it's weak and take its life. Asterion relentlessly swung his sword tail, hammering at the Jyuratodus's lower vitals—more precisely, the gaping wound already torn open in its underbelly. What shocked him most was that the blood flowing from this eviscerated gash was actually decreasing?!
What kind of monstrous vitality was this!
Under the influence of surging life energy, large monsters of the New World could possess such regenerative power?!
The length of intestine the Jyuratodus had spilled earlier had been violently torn off by its own thrashing movements, yet this thing showed no signs of weakness or collapse even now.
If such wounds were inflicted on a human, Asterion couldn't imagine anyone surviving being gutted with their intestines severed, multiple deep gashes across their body, and still moving naturally—let alone launching powerful counterattacks.
Is this Jyuratodus even legal?
But it didn't matter. Asterion was a born hunter, patient to a fault.
A perfectly good Glavenus , living like a scratch bird—he danced around the Jyuratodus like a tense skirmisher, leaping to and fro, never too close nor too far.
When the Jyuratodus charged, he'd hop aside; when its movements overextended and it couldn't turn back, he'd dart in and whip it with a couple of slashes.
When the Jyuratodus tried to burrow into the swamp bottom to recoat itself with mud armor, Asterion would clamp down with his tail, charge up a massive spin attack—and the Jyuratodus, just emerging from the ground, would eat the full force of it. Things didn't improve; they got worse.
The Glavenus 's sharp great blade was being wielded by Asterion like a bleeding knife. Who knows what other Glavenus s would think if they saw.
But the Jyuratodus no longer had to think.
Even the most robust vitality eventually runs dry. The clearest sign was the Jyuratodus's slowing movements—its charges and lunges grew sluggish, and Asterion could dodge them effortlessly without grand evasions.
Panting heavily, exhaustion wasn't limited to the Jyuratodus; Asterion was dead tired too.
Dodging and attacking, especially those few tail-bite spins, had taken massive effort. For a young dragon like him, the stamina drain was immense.
But thankfully, the fight was finally ending.
With a light sidestep, he evaded the Jyuratodus's now-sluggish dragon cart, and in the same motion, his sword tail swept across its neck.
Thud.
The uncontrolled draconic body hit the ground with a heavy sound. This swamp had already been churned into a turbid mud soup by the earlier battle between the two dragons, and now a massive spray of mud splashed up, soaking Asterion's legs where he still stood.
He'd won.
Won!
"Roar!!!"
Throwing his head back, he let out a sky-shaking roar. The joy of victory surged through Asterion's spirit—the thrill of battle won, the anticipation of feasting, the satisfaction of revenge... Nothing could satisfy the current Asterion more.
He hadn't been turned into a pile of dung by the Jyuratodus. On the contrary, now he was going to turn the Jyuratodus into a pile—oh, wait, that wouldn't work.
Recalling his body's abnormality cooled Asterion down a bit. No time for more triumphant reflections on his first major battle victory—he dove into the feast at top speed.
"Roar roar roar! Roar roar roar roar!" (No more, no less—let's dig in!)
After a simple pre-meal ritual, like a starving ghost who hadn't eaten in decades—or as if any delay would let another dragon swoop in and steal his meal—Asterion leaped onto the Jyuratodus's corpse and buried his head in, devouring voraciously.
Same old rule: start with the nutrient- and fat-rich organs, the concentration of the Jyuratodus's life energy. For Asterion, who'd just burned through too much energy in battle, these fats would perfectly replenish his losses and even make him stronger.
Delicious! Absolutely delectable!
Asterion even let out satisfied purring growls.
So flavorful!!
The soft, sweet fat; the chewy muscle—unlike the herbivorous Brute Wyverns he'd eaten before, the Jyuratodus had a river-fresh taste. In dragon terms, a bit fishy.
Pretty novel.
This was the best meal Asterion had eaten since birth. Even without the luxury of cooked food yet, and even with the meat muddied from the swamp, to a Glavenus 's palate, it was truly a feast.
The ample meat quickly converted to life energy in his stomach. This wasn't the low-tier flesh of herbivorous dragons he'd hunted before, but the meat of a Jyuratodus from the mid-tier of the food chain... Er, well, maybe not that high up.
Anyway, by the time Asterion stuffed the entire fish-like tail into his belly, he feared nothing—and had nothing to fear.
Barroth, female Rathalos, male Rathalos—they hadn't shown up yet!
Eat when it's time to eat, drink when it's time to drink, don't dwell on troubles.
Screw it!
But as Asterion voraciously inhaled the Jyuratodus's flesh, he failed to notice that at the edge of the Flower Field Swamp area, atop an unusually tall protruding stone pillar, figures were spying on him.
Yes, humans, not dragons.
Er, maybe they could count as ape wyverns?
If Asterion had noticed these three, he'd instantly recognize them as the hunters he'd longed for—the ones he'd dreamed of.
Guild hunters.
"Truly unbelievable... Such a small body, yet it hunted prey two or three times its size."
Lowering the binoculars pressed to his face, a burly young man whispered. Compared to his two companions, this youth was even more imposing—or rather, a full size larger—with wild black hair growing like a lion's mane.
"Keep it down. We still don't know how New World Glavenus s differ from Old World ones, especially in hearing."
To the burly youth's right lay a similarly young woman. She reached out and pushed down the burly youth's head as he kept craning to look, keeping him from drawing attention.
"Kinda scary. Are all New World monsters like this?" The slimmer youth lying to the burly one's left turned his head and said, "You've both hunted Glavenus before, right? Compared to those guys, this little one is just too... smart."
"You mean cunning, don't you?" The female hunter chuckled softly. "It uses other creatures to set traps—even if the trap was crude, the behavior itself proves its intelligence. At least, I've never seen similar actions in other Glavenus s."
"Not just that," the slimmer youth shook his head. "The pursuit afterward—that thing didn't act like a Glavenus at all. You saw it, right? It was deliberately dragging out time to weaken that fish-like dragon further. That's a bleeding tactic—this isn't the Glavenus style I remember. It's not something they'd do instead of clashing head-on."
Yes, these hunters had practically witnessed Asterion's entire revenge battle, from setting the trap to his unorthodox fighting method.
"Indeed. The Glavenus s I remember are hot-tempered swordsmen—they wouldn't fight by hopping around like that," the female hunter commented. "I'm more curious about where its mother is. Logically, a cub like this shouldn't be hunting alone yet—or did it learn to hunt this way precisely because it lost its mother?"
"Hey, hey, why are you two jumping to conclusions already?" the burly youth interjected. "Maybe it's not even a Glavenus —just a monster that looks like one, attacks like one, behaves like one, but actually isn't. Something similar to a Glavenus ."
"Do you even hear yourself?" The slimmer youth gave his companion a exasperated look. "If a dragon looks like a Glavenus, fights like a Glavenus , and acts like a Glavenus , then it is a Glavenus ."
"Ahaha, sorry, sorry—I got a bit carried away with wild ideas." Scratching his hair, the burly youth grinned.
"Actually, not necessarily," the female hunter thought for a moment. "Nature does have young creatures that mimic others until they mature and can protect themselves, then reveal their true form."
"Maybe," the slimmer youth shook his head. "I'm more worried if such a smart monster poses a threat to our camp."
"Hunt it? Or capture it?" the burly youth raised his hand and asked.
Far away, a sudden chill ran down Asterion's back. He lifted his head, glanced around, confirmed nothing was there, and lowered it to eat again.
"Wait, don't jump to conclusions like that," the female hunter hurriedly stopped them. "I know arriving in a new continent has you all excited, and the Guild hasn't restricted us much, but that's no reason to hunt recklessly."
"Heh heh, of course—I was just joking," the burly youth chuckled. "Relax, Hara. And you, Commander—don't forget we're just here to investigate. We can't act rashly until things are clear."
"You'd better remember that, Leader," the female hunter... Hara shot the burly youth a wry glance. "The Kushala Daora and that volcano-like dragon were indeed heading this way, but the Lavasioth doesn't seem to have landed in this great valley. Proof: these monsters' life patterns haven't been affected by an Elder Dragon yet."
"Then let's press on," the male hunter called Commander spoke up. "The sooner we uncover why the Elder Dragons are coming here, the sooner we can report back to the Guild."
"Oh! Then let's move out!"
After one last glance at Asterion still buried in his meal, the burly hunter dubbed Leader slid down the stone pillar.
He'd remember this unusually different young Glavenus . He hoped to see it again when the investigation team returned.
Don't lose to this cruel natural world, little guy!
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