Another thing that confused the dragon was this battle—why would two Kushala Daoras fight each other?
Kushala Daoras are considered the most common among Elder Dragons. They are widely distributed in both the Old World and the New World. The Kushala Daoras in the New World are mainly divided into two groups: one consists of individuals nearing the end of their lifespan who crossed the sea from the Old World, while the other group uses the New World as a breeding and nesting ground, distributed across several regions.
Otherwise, why would they say the situation in the New World is special? It's not just various Tempered monsters bunching up here; even Elder Dragons congregate here.
As Elder Dragons, outside of their molting period, Kushala Daoras actually have a rather proud and peaceful temperament. Er, putting those two words together might seem a bit strange, but Kushala Daoras generally disdain fighting other creatures or competing for territory. The immense power possessed by Elder Dragons allows them to alter the ecosystem without needing to fight, driving away ordinary wyverns.
Let alone fighting their own kind. Given the intelligence of Elder Dragons, Kushala Daoras basically never fight their own kin. That's not the kind of competitive spirit a dragon that mainly eats ore would have.
Yeah, just look at Dodogama. How friendly that fat guy is.
The airtight curtain of rain made it impossible for Asterion to see exactly what the situation was like over at the hunters' base further away, but he felt the hunters definitely wouldn't miss this anomaly.
Those bold hunters—the Admiral, for instance—might already be planning how to repel the Kushala Daoras and restore the rainy season to normal or something.
Unlike in the game where players kill an Elder Dragon at the drop of a hat, in the real world, even though there are more Elder Dragons in the New World than the Old, the numbers aren't that exaggerated—the only Elder Dragon confirmed to be killed by hunters is Shagaru Magala, the shame of all Elder Dragons.
Aside from Shagaru Magala, when hunters face Elder Dragons, they can at most repel them. As for killing them... haha, that's purely a dream.
Asterion was fretting, then realized worrying was useless. Even if he could overcome his body's instinctual fear of Elder Dragons to go fight the Kushala Daoras, they were in the sky. What could a flightless dragon like him do?
It felt like Groudon watching Kyogre and Rayquaza fighting in the sky, while he could only stand on the ground looking up eagerly—at least Groudon could use Precipice Blades to poke at them. Asterion couldn't even reach the sky.
Sigh... not being able to fly means being an incomplete dragon.
Smacking his lips, Asterion sighed deeply. He felt discriminated against... Forget it, better go swipe an egg for his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro. After starving for so many days, his bro was probably famished.
Better pick up the eggs and head back early. As a fire-attribute wyvern, a little drizzle on his shell was atmospheric to Asterion, but this incessant torrential rain and the water rising past his calves was torture—he'd rather be lying in his dry nest.
In this stormy weather, the Apceros naturally hid quietly in their nests. Their habitats were on high ground, so the floodwaters wouldn't reach them anytime soon.
He ate an Apceros and grabbed two eggs, one in each claw. Asterion acted like he was raiding a supermarket, eating and taking, as he splashed along the small river back toward home.
But he hadn't taken many steps when, amidst the clattering sound of the rain, he heard the heavy, rhythmic clang clang of striking iron. The sound was getting closer—
BOOM!!
The curtain of rain twisted. To put it simply, visibility had been poor, but just now, Asterion clearly saw a mass of something tear through the rain and crash onto a stone cliff a hundred meters away. His eyes went wide.
That was a wind blast, or perhaps... the aftershock of battle?
BOOM!!!
One silver-gray, one tea-brown—two heavy, massive lumps of iron descended from the sky at high speed, smashing into the distance like meteors. The sound of clashing metal came from them. The two Kushala Daoras were tangled together, clawing, biting, ramming—it was an exceptionally primitive, exceptionally brutal melee.
It couldn't be helped. Battles between Elder Dragons usually evolved into bombardments of special abilities, but right now, the combatants were two Kushala Daoras.
Their steel bodies were just the foundation. The Kushala Daora's true ability was the free manipulation of the natural phenomenon of [Wind]. Areas where Kushala Daoras appeared were often ravaged as if by a typhoon, with storms at the center strong enough to snap thick trees.
They could cloak their bodies in whirlwinds for protection, and compress air to spit out high-pressure wind cannons to attack opponents.
As Elder Dragons that commanded the wind, Kushala Daora was the incarnation of the storm, a living natural disaster—but the problem was, there were two of them here.
You can control wind, and so can I. So, amidst the back-and-forth winds, it turned into this purest form of melee combat. The damage was actually greater this way.
In the game, you always see messages about Elder Dragons being natural disasters, but honestly, relying on game graphics and text descriptions always lacked a sense of reality... Until this moment. Right now, Asterion finally witnessed with his own eyes what a true natural disaster was.
To use a somewhat disrespectful analogy, it was like two wild boars biting each other and rolling around in a mud pit—sorry, but that was exactly how it felt in Asterion's head right now.
Even in melee, controlling storms had long been instinct for the two Kushala Daoras. So as they tore at each other, the spreading storm seemed to plow away the entire surface layer of the earth, expanding far into the distance.
The two Kushala Daoras fought until the cosmos shattered, obliterating even the Wildspire Waste.
Of course, that's just an exaggeration. But Asterion could be certain that once these two Kushala Daoras left and the weather cleared, he would probably have to re-familiarize himself with the terrain and topography of this area.
Places that were once tall stone walls were forcibly leveled, and concave canyons were filled with fallen rocks—it was truly exaggerated. Even the Kushala Daora, symbolic of wind, could alter the terrain like this.
It really filled Asterion with longing... One day...
Wait??!!
Suddenly shuddering, Asterion's eyes widened—where are those guys fighting?!
That's my home!!
Damn legs! Run!!
Taking three steps in two, Asterion no longer hid his presence but sprinted toward his nest. The road, now a river, dragged at his speed, but luckily, just as he spotted the silhouette of his cave, everything went—BOOM!!
Gone.
A shockwave from the Kushala Daoras' battle, a compressed air blast released inadvertently, or a protective gale—whatever it was, a mass of translucent, distorted air tore through the gray rain and landed directly on top of the cave.
Without even a decent amount of resistance, the cave, which had been hollowed out and expanded by Asterion over time, collapsed completely.
Asterion: "!!!"
My Kulu-Ya-Ku bro!!
Bro!!
Before he could even feel sad about the destruction of the cozy little nest etched with memories of his growth, Asterion immediately thought of the Kulu-Ya-Ku bro he had left inside—instantly, his eyes went red.
Rage surged in his heart; murderous intent exploded!
Even if the Elder Dragons bore no malice, their very existence and every move were enough to impact the surrounding ecosystem. All weak life could do when facing an Elder Dragon was passively endure; they couldn't even resist...
Asterion didn't know how many lives in the Wildspire Waste would vanish over these few days because of the battle between these two Kushala Daoras, and he didn't care. He only knew that his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro absolutely could not die for such a ridiculous reason, leaving not even a corpse behind.
His mind was blank. No, right now Asterion remembered one thing: to charge straight toward the collapsed and flooded cave.
Crouching down, he desperately dug with his short little claws, but that was too slow. Asterion simply used his sword-tail, digging like a giant shovel, trying to find traces of his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro.
Thanks to Asterion's current massive size and his equally massive sword-tail, it only took a few strokes to dig open the collapsed cave.
"...Squawk!"
Before the soil and rocks were completely cleared, amidst the loud sound of torrential rain, Asterion finally heard a weak bird call—it was his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro!!
He was actually still alive!!
No, not "actually"—it was good that he was alive! It was so good that he was alive!!
The sudden cry of the Kulu-Ya-Ku caused Asterion's brain, filled with rage and grief, to stall temporarily, making his massive body freeze in place.
Not just because of the weakness in the voice, but because of what his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro said.
"Squawk?" (Is there egg to eat?)
"Squawk..." (So hungry...)
What stupid bird language. He had just escaped danger, yet his brain was still focused on food... Asterion wanted to curse, but what he felt more was an unspeakable joy—his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro was alive!
A Glavenus does not shed tears easily. Asterion couldn't imagine how lonely his future would be if his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro had died in that cave... As a dragon with human intelligence, loneliness was the blade that could truly kill him.
Quickly digging away the rocks pressing down on the Kulu-Ya-Ku, Asterion pulled his bro out of the ground with one claw, followed by a bear hug strong enough to squeeze a squawk out of the bird.
You didn't die!!
"Guk, squawk!!" (Can't, can't breathe!)
Releasing his claws at the Kulu-Ya-Ku's plea for help, Asterion looked the mud-covered fellow up and down. The mud was quickly washing away in the rain, and in seconds, the Kulu-Ya-Ku looked clean, scales and all.
He was a wyvern after all. Even a small wyvern like a Kulu-Ya-Ku had a sturdy body. So, even though he had been dizzied by falling rocks while hiding in the nest, he wasn't injured.
Look at him, the Kulu-Ya-Ku bro was even looking at him eagerly, trying to find the eggs Asterion had brought back.
The bird was truly starving to death!!
But the eggs... Asterion had tossed them aside the moment he saw the nest under attack and rushed back in a panic.
Fortunately, the accumulated water there had formed a small pond. When Asterion led the Kulu-Ya-Ku back to find them, both eggs were soaking in the water, unbroken.
Startled only by the sudden collapse of the cave earlier, the Kulu-Ya-Ku didn't even realize what was happening in the Wildspire Waste. Instead, he quickly pecked open an eggshell and ate non-stop.
He was really starving; right now, his mind was only on eating.
But being able to eat was a good thing... it was a good thing.
Watching his Kulu-Ya-Ku bro slurping away, Asterion suddenly felt an unspeakable emotion.
"Roar, roar roar!" (I'm so glad you're okay, bro!)
"Squawk? Ga ga ga!" (What's wrong? Let's eat together!)
Completely failing to understand what Asterion was worried about, the Kulu-Ya-Ku pushed the half-eaten egg in his hands toward Asterion, but Asterion pushed it back.
"Roar roar? Roar roar! Roar roar!" (I'm not eating, you eat. After you're done, go find a safe place to stay.)
Great grief followed by great joy; right now, Asterion only felt his brow twitching. The anger of his nest being destroyed, combined with the vigorous lust for battle and slaughter stemming from his Glavenus bloodline.
He really wanted to cut something.
Elder Dragons, huh?
Elder Dragons are so amazing??
Elder Dragons can just do whatever they want???
In ancient times, the Rajang forcibly snapped the Kirin's horn; today, the Glavenus shall righteously slash the Kushala Daora!!
"Squawk squawk?" (Let's run together, kid, let's go to the desert!)
Still holding the egg with two claws, the Kulu-Ya-Ku called out eagerly. In his heart, as long as the two dragons fled to the desert, they would be safe—at least far away from this dangerous place where just the ambient aura made his stomach hurt all over.
By now, the Kulu-Ya-Ku bro had slowly noticed the two wrestling Kushala Daoras in the distance. Honestly, just one look made him feel his calves trembling.
"Roar! Roar roar!" (No, you go first. We'll meet back here when the rain stops.)
"Squawk?!" (What are you going to do!)
"Roar!!" (Go!!)
Urging him once more, Asterion pushed the Kulu-Ya-Ku away with his claw, watching him disappear into the rain curtain, looking back three times with every step, until the bird's shadow was gone in seconds.
Turning back, taking large strides, Asterion headed directly toward the two Kushala Daoras. His thick hind legs kicked up massive splashes in the river. Although the temperature had dropped significantly over the past few days under the baptism of the torrential rain, at this moment, the temperature centered around Asterion was slowly rising.
The dense raindrops vanished quickly upon landing on Asterion's shell. Bursts of white steam rose from the cooling shell on his back. He had entered combat mode; his body temperature was rising sharply, and his dormant muscles were waking up step by step. From a distance, it looked like Asterion was entirely shrouded in a cloud of white mist.
A demon in the rain.
On the other side, the two Kushala Daoras were still immersed in their own world, entangled in their biting and wrestling, oblivious to everything else between heaven and earth.
Elder Dragons possessed the pride belonging to Elder Dragons, and the temperament of the Kushala Daora was even more arrogant. The only things they deemed worthy of their attention were fellow Elder Dragons. As for those ordinary wyverns... in their long lives, ordinary wyverns weren't worth mentioning at all.
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