Although players always call the Glavenus's tail-biting spin an "Iai," the Glavenus's sword-tail is not a Long Sword; it's fundamentally a heavy Great Sword.
Long Sword users can't perform an Iai with a Great Sword.
And now, this heavy Great Sword, as it swung, directly severed the bones of the Nightshade Paolumu's left wing—far more easily than Asterion had expected.
The Nightshade Paolumu's bones couldn't block his sword-tail at all. Asterion had wanted to pierce straight through its round, furry belly, but unfortunately, the creature had some reaction. At the last second, it flapped its wings to dodge upward, only injuring its wing.
Oh, apologies, not "only"—an injured wing meant the Nightshade Paolumu couldn't quickly escape by air, even if its wings only served a propulsive role during flight.
Pain. This was a significant, influential factor that couldn't be ignored. Coupled with the sudden fright, the Nightshade Paolumu shrieked "Gek! Gek!" while desperately flapping its wings, trying to fly higher.
A dragon scaring a dragon to death.
Only after several seconds did it realize its left wing, the bones already severed, was just dangling limply at its side. Any slightly violent movement caused unbearable pain.
No matter how hard it flapped its good wing, the result was just spinning in place in mid-air in a wider arc.
"GOOO-GEKKKK-GEKKKK!!!"
It was enraged.
After the initial shock passed, the Nightshade Paolumu's large eyes finally saw who had attacked it—a juvenile Glavenus.
If you were an adult Glavenus, fine, but a juvenile Glavenus? Who do you think you're looking down on?!
Of course, it didn't have such clear thoughts, but the anger from being attacked by a juvenile was universal.
It stopped flapping its broken left wing to escape. The Nightshade Paolumu tilted back slightly, then suddenly spat a pale-grey cloud of gas toward Asterion, exceptionally indistinct in the night.
The sleep gas cloud!
This signature Nightshade Paolumu attack was well within Asterion's expectations. An intel-Glavenus wouldn't fall to this kind of attack.
He didn't even need to retreat. Instead, Asterion charged forward a few steps, grazing past the sleep gas cloud just before it hit the ground and exploded.
A graze!
He wasn't in a hurry.
In a real battle, an undeniable factor was bleeding.
His sword-tail had truly severed the Nightshade Paolumu's left wing—not just bone, but flesh and blood. Therefore, even in the darkness, Asterion could see blood continuously dripping from the Nightshade Paolumu's body.
This is why wild animals, including most wyverns, won't easily fight creatures of similar size. Getting injured means a loss, and it means mortal danger.
Even if a wyvern has a lot of blood, it can't withstand it constantly flowing out. Asterion didn't believe the Nightshade Paolumu could stay in the air forever.
Not relying purely on its wings for flight actually helped the Nightshade Paolumu in this situation, preventing it from falling straight to the ground. But it also meant it couldn't just endure the pain and glide away to safety like other winged wyverns.
Like some kind of giant, frenzied bat, the Nightshade Paolumu kept spitting sleep gas clouds downward from the sky. And with this action, even if the clouds didn't hit Asterion directly, they exploded on the ground one after another. Gradually, the entire area seemed to be covered in a thin layer of mist.
Even though the sleep gas became diluted as it spread, when the quantity piled up, Asterion still felt a trace of drowsiness.
Seriously, how can you spray so much??
How much sleep-inducing substance do you have stored up??
Genuinely annoyed, Asterion could only search for a relatively clean spot to stand on the ground. He didn't dare leave this large, diffused area of sleep gas, just in case the Nightshade Paolumu glided away in another direction.
If he were an adult Glavenus, he could easily slash the Nightshade Paolumu at its current, lowered altitude. But unfortunately, Asterion wasn't. He couldn't reach that high even if he jumped.
Most importantly, he didn't dare slash at the Nightshade Paolumu's round, inflated air sac. He was afraid of damaging it. What if a damaged air sac wouldn't work when he ate it?
The vigorous life force of the New World had strengthened the unique abilities of these large monsters. And unlike the game, the real world didn't need to cater to the player experience; the difficulty didn't need to be smoothed out.
Asterion was already feeling a bit dizzy.
Even though it couldn't escape, the Nightshade Paolumu's advantage of being able to fly while its enemy couldn't reach it was making his head spin. It was thoroughly disgusting.
This was just a mere Nightshade Paolumu. If it were one of those aggressive, air-combat specialists, like a Rathalos or Azure Rathalos, he, a pitiful wyvern who couldn't even fly, would be bullied who knows how badly!
They attack when they want, leave when they want, always holding the advantage, spitting fireballs and bombing from time to time...
This was absolutely not allowed!
Asterion couldn't bear to imagine how disgusting it would be if some jerk wyvern took advantage of its flight to mock him, or worse, poop on his head.
Even if an enemy provoked him from the air, he had to have the ability to chase it down and kill it, not just stand on the ground defending and swatting away a few of the attacker's spines to repel it.
He needed the initiative!
This feeling of only being able to look up and watch the Nightshade Paolumu go crazy further solidified Asterion's determination to make himself fly.
Finally, the Nightshade Paolumu's round body deflated. It had to expend the gas stored in its air sac to spit those sleep clouds, and it couldn't inhale and exhale at the same time.
Under Asterion's expectant gaze, the now-thin Nightshade Paolumu finally landed on the ground. The accumulated grey sleep gas on the ground naturally couldn't put it to sleep, and the prolonged, frenzied attacks had exhausted it.
Even knowing its left wing was injured and useless, the long-ingrained habit made the Nightshade Paolumu unconsciously try to flap it while in mid-air. It was instinct.
And this habit, amidst its violent movements, only caused it more pain and made it bleed even more.
After truly arriving in this world, Asterion discovered the most effective tactic was still to leave a deep, wide wound on the enemy. Then, all you had to do was wait.
The bleed tactic. His sword-tail was practically born for this job. As long as...
Too evil, Glavenus.
"GOOO-GEKKKK-GEKKKK!!!"
The Nightshade Paolumu was still roaring, stirring up another gust of wind as it charged Asterion—but its charge seemed far too sluggish in his eyes.
With things having developed this far, the Nightshade Paolumu was basically sentenced to death. It could not escape.
As the Nightshade Paolumu once again raised its head and began to inhale deeply, trying to fly, Asterion, who had been waiting for this exact moment, burst forth with astonishing speed.
Charge, leap, land—and the sharpened sword-tail easily decapitated the Nightshade Paolumu.
"ROOOAR!!!"
Standing on the Nightshade Paolumu's corpse, Asterion let out a victory roar.
A flawless victory, though the process had been somewhat disgusting.
How to put it? Easy.
Asterion selectively ignored the fact that he had sucker-punched the Nightshade Paolumu's wing off at the start.
He was busy eating now. He had to carefully tear open the Nightshade Paolumu's flesh to find its air sac. It was pretty easy to find; the real trouble was butchering the corpse.
Asterion's blade was very sharp. Before long, he had retrieved two large, now somewhat shriveled air sacs from the body. Without a second thought, he swallowed them whole.
Just like someone transported to the One Piece world eating a Devil Fruit, afraid that eating too little wouldn't grant the ability.
But the taste of wyvern meat was not something a Devil Fruit could compare to.
After devouring the Nightshade Paolumu's air sacs, Asterion immediately began to chant inwardly:
"Give me the air sac, give me the air sac, give me the air sac, give me the air sac..."
"The air sac can increase my buoyancy but not reduce my combat power or defense..."
"...It can't turn me into a fat dragon, and it can't affect my body's flexibility..."
"..."
Er, it was just like making a wish to something, and they were all extremely greedy wishes.
What a greedy dragon.
But as a dragon, who isn't greedy?
To be honest, Asterion himself didn't know if this method would work or what the final effect would be, so he felt somewhat apprehensive. He decided he would keep praying inwardly until the change appeared.
While his mind raced, guessing what form this desired change might take, Asterion quickly ate the rest of the Nightshade Paolumu's corpse. There wasn't much meat; it was practically lean.
It didn't take long for him to eat his fill. After finding a desert cactus to rinse his mouth, Asterion began the trek back to his nest.
A successful hunt. And before the evolution truly manifested, Asterion felt he needed to hunt more Nightshade Paolumus.
Keep at it!
Although he was still technically a juvenile, Asterion already had the lives of several adult wyverns under his belt.
However, he still didn't have his own territory. Asterion was always worried that his strength wasn't yet sufficient to openly claim a territory for himself.
For all large monsters, territory was something won through fighting. If two wyverns coveted the same area, they would fight. They might not kill each other, but a winner and loser would be decided.
Then, both parties would know where the other's territory was and would be careful to avoid their hunting grounds during daily activities.
The Jyuratodus that Asterion had defeated was indeed a minor lord of that flowery marsh area, but its position was always being challenged by a strong Barroth. Now that the Jyuratodus was dead and gone, the Barroth had occupied the area.
When that guy had nothing better to do, he liked to bury himself in the mud.
Asterion had no interest in picking another fight with the Barroth. They had no grudge. Although the Barroth was also a carnivorous Brute Wyvern, its diet consisted only of insects or ants. Even its giant head-crest was for destroying anthills or insect nests.
Not fond of meaningless battles, Asterion also had no interest in the traits the Barroth had evolved.
His unique "eat-to-evolve" ability already guaranteed his life would not be short of combat. For now, the less fighting, the better.
Anyway, when Asterion appeared in the flowery marsh area to drink and hunt herbivores, that Barroth didn't react aggressively. Thus, a unique understanding developed between the two wyverns.
Mutual non-interference.
Waking up, it was another beautiful, clear day. The scorching sun felt like a warm massage to Asterion. He had just eaten a meal of "teppanyaki" Apceros meat and was currently drinking in the flowery marsh area to quench his thirst.
In terms of just filling his stomach, herbivores, which had little ability to resist and plenty of meat, were indeed the most suitable.
They were gentle, much like capybaras. If they could live, they lived; if not, they died. They had a remarkably zen attitude toward life. Most importantly, there were a lot of them, and they laid many eggs. It was as if their attitude was: if an enemy wyvern comes to hunt, let them eat. After they're done, we'll continue living.
A "sacrifice" strategy, one might say.
But it had to be said, despite being preyed upon by all sorts of wyverns, with even their eggs supporting creatures like Kulu-Ya-Ku, the herbivorous wyverns still survived in all sorts of places and propagated very well.
The place where Asterion was now was considered the outskirts of the Wildspire Waste, far from the truly desolate desert region. But precisely because of this, it retained a relatively abundant water system, brought in by the sea breeze or flowing down and seeping from the more distant Ancient Forest.
Before Zorah Magdaros broke through the mountains and forged a path, there was no direct route between the Wildspire Waste and the Ancient Forest. Deformed and piled-up rock layers perfectly blocked this passage. It would only open briefly when the rock layers shifted again due to geothermal activity or Elder Dragon activity.
Therefore, even though they looked close on the map, the only way to get across was by boat or by taming a Mernos.
Still mindful of that massive Zorah Magdaros trace from before, Asterion remembered that when the hunters followed the Elder Crossing to the New World, the First Fleet had landed in the Wildspire Waste and established a base on the coast, the predecessor to Astera.
He didn't know which attempt this was for Zorah Magdaros to enter the New World's underground caverns, but now that he had a certain degree of self-preservation—or at least could run away if he couldn't win—Asterion felt he should visit the seaside more often.
Curiosity is like that. Since he had already crossed over into the world of Monster Hunter, how could he not be curious about these game characters he knew from his past life?
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