Eat or be eaten, survival and destruction. It was devoid of ripples, entirely commonplace.
When one wakes up, there might be many more of those ordinary wyverns, or perhaps many fewer, but it doesn't matter. Everything is just a normal cycle, having no impact on the whole.
Perhaps in the eyes of the Elder Dragons, ordinary wyverns are not much different from wild beasts—similar to how humans think when they see apes: Huh? This thing looks kind of like me?
The higher the ecological niche, the greater the gap between them. Elder Dragons look down on the ordinary wyverns struggling in the food chain, while the Forbidden Species look down on the Elder Dragons... The gap between a Forbidden Species and an Elder Dragon is just like the gap between an Elder Dragon and an ordinary wyvern.
The closer one gets to the peak, the more immense the disparity becomes, so vast it is nearly impossible to cross.
Perhaps these intelligent Elder Dragons take pride in their uniqueness, but before a Glavenus with knowledge, the reason for their arrogance is no secret.
"Can you beat an Elder Dragon?"
Asterion asked himself this in his heart.
"Probably not."
He already had the answer.
But if he swallowed this anger now, how could he ever swing his blade in the future?
The rage of his nest being destroyed, the lingering fear of nearly losing the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers—Asterion trembled with fury just thinking about that possibility.
If he fled the moment he saw an Elder Dragon, when would he ever embark on the path to becoming a Forbidden Species?
Even if he just slashed them twice and ran, could the Elder Dragon instantly one-shot him?
My physical body is no longer inferior to an adult Glavenus, and I possess knowledge of wyverns and a special shell that ordinary Glavenus do not have—can you really one-shot me?
Worst case scenario, he would just flee. At the very least, he had to slash them a couple of times to vent his anger, to see what the level of an Elder Dragon in the real world truly was, and to prepare for the future.
No dragon can become a Forbidden Species peacefully and harmoniously... No, it should be said that no ordinary wyvern has any hope of becoming a Forbidden Species... Only I... only I...
From an ordinary Glavenus to an Elder Glavenus—this can only be achieved by drinking the blood of Elder Dragons and devouring their flesh.
Before reaching that step, no matter how much flesh and blood of ordinary wyverns he devoured, it would not be enough. The gap between ordinary wyverns and Elder Dragons was greater than the gap between humans and dogs; it was a disparity on the level of bloodlines.
Some dragons are born in Rome, while others are born to be beasts of burden... take the Aptonoth, for instance.
From zero to one. Asterion knew that sooner or later he would have to fight a battle against overwhelming odds, challenging an Elder Dragon with the body of an ordinary wyvern.
Kushala Daora was considered one of the weaker types among the Elder Dragons. If he really couldn't beat it, he could burrow underground; it wasn't as if he couldn't even run away.
His heart was beating violently. Scorching blood surged from his chest to the extremities of his body. Asterion felt like he was burning.
Burning with excitement.
Asterion even wanted to laugh a little, because his current situation inexplicably reminded him of a joke:
A: I want to become an Elder Dragon. B: Then go hunt an Elder Dragon. A: How can I hunt an Elder Dragon if I don't become an Elder Dragon?! B: Then go hunt an Elder Dragon!!
Hah, such is the contradiction.
The violent storm masked Asterion's figure and tracks. By the time he was close enough to the two Kushala Daoras tearing at each other on the ground, these two fellows still looked as if they hadn't discovered him—no, this was simply being ignored!
Two jets of hot white steam sprayed from his nostrils. After confirming the distance was sufficient, Asterion leaped directly out!
Aerial Slash!!
He didn't care if it was a standard Kushala Daora or a Rusted Kushala Daora; Asterion didn't plan to distinguish his target at all. This slash was aimed squarely at both of the Steel Dragons wrestling together!
Clang!
A tremendous sound, like the striking of a great bell. It was the collision of iron and iron, the roar of metal!
There was absolutely no sensation of cutting into flesh. Even through the curtain of rain, Asterion was certain that his blade had first landed near the wing root of the Rusted Kushala, close to the neck, before sliding down to slash the abdomen of the silvery-gray Kushala Daora.
But to be honest, apart from a dent where the blade first landed, this strike might have only left a white scratch on that metal shell. He hadn't even scraped off the Rusted Kushala's skin.
It was too damn hard. It felt exactly like two pieces of steel crashing into each other. The recoil was so intense that even now, Asterion felt numbness at the base of his tail.
The damage wasn't high, but as a signal of war, it was more than enough.
"ROAARR!!!"
The roars of the Kushala Daora and the Rusted Kushala were quite similar, extremely high-pitched. After all, they were both Kushala Daoras; the only difference was whether their skin had rusted.
The two Steel Dragons had undoubtedly noticed Asterion, this audacious intruder. It was clearly just an ordinary Glavenus—not even an old one, looking more like a juvenile—yet it dared to attack them?!
Enraged!
Inevitably enraged.
The anger of an Elder Dragon's dignity being provoked, the anger of physical injury—so much so that the Kushala Daora and the Rusted Kushala stopped fighting each other and turned to face Asterion simultaneously.
"Roar, roar!!" (Come on! You two bastards!!)
Without a shred of timidity—the word 'fear' did not exist in a Glavenus's bones. Placing his sword-tail vertically in front of him, Asterion roared loudly.
"Roar roar roar! Roar roar roar roar!!" (You destroyed my home and dared to hurt my brothers! I'm going to kill you!!)
Fury!!
A blazing, burning rage!!
The desire for slaughter was rising. Asterion made a provocation that any Glavenus would make, or perhaps one that even a normal Glavenus wouldn't dare make.
Leaving aside whether the Elder Dragons could understand the meaning of "bastards," Asterion's intent was conveyed clearly enough.
"ROAARR!!!"
The silvery-gray Kushala Daora seemed to get angry. It raised its dragon head, about to attack Asterion—but unexpectedly, the Rusted Kushala immediately let out a roar.
Under Asterion's confused gaze, the silvery-gray Kushala Daora, who had been particularly angry due to Asterion's attack and provocation, stopped its movements and actually retreated a few steps to the side.
What does that mean?
Aren't you two mortal enemies?
Asterion really couldn't understand it. If they weren't mortal enemies, why had the two Kushala Daoras fought from the sea to the shore, and from the sky to the ground? They had looked like they wanted to kill each other.
But watching the movements of the two Steel Dragons, Asterion gradually began to understand something.
The Rusted Kushala, which he had cut the deepest earlier, remained in place, assuming a stance waiting for him to attack. Meanwhile, the silvery-gray Kushala Daora flew backward and landed on a high stone pillar, clearly intending to spectate.
Understood. Asterion completely understood.
This is going to be a 1v1 duel, right?
As expected of Elder Dragons—proud Elder Dragons. Asterion was now convinced of the saying that Elder Dragons possessed intelligence not inferior to humans, because this kind of operation was not something a dragon that relied solely on instinct to hunt and survive could possess.
A higher form of emotion.
Then bring it on.
"Roar!"
The Rusted Kushala growled low, as if urging Asterion to make his move quickly.
Thrust!!
The flexible sword-tail stabbed forward violently. At the same time, Asterion took a side step and leaped to the right.
Boom!!
A wind pressure shot spat from the Rusted Kushala's mouth smashed impressively into the spot where Asterion had just been standing. But Asterion, following the momentum of his blade strike, dodged it. This move was named—Fade Slash!
He hadn't been wasting his time over the past year!
Accumulating bio-energy was just a daily necessity. Asterion spent more time observing the Hunters who appeared in the Wildspire Waste.
Those who used Great Swords, those who used Long Swords—he wanted to learn the Hunters' method of imbuing Spirit into their weapons. To put it plainly, he wanted to give his own sword-tail a Red Spirit Gauge.
But unfortunately, perhaps because the physical differences between humans and wyverns were too great, no matter how Asterion pondered it, he couldn't be like the Hunters. He couldn't coat his weapon with his own Spirit after a certain degree of attacks to make the blade emit a faint yellow or red glow.
Asterion suspected that this was actually a specific application of bio-energy, a technique humans had researched based on their own physical structure.
In this world, bio-energy existed within all things, the only difference being quantity, and whether it was active or passive.
In short, this technique could make weapons sharper and harder, and could accumulate and release more power. It truly made Asterion envious.
However, although he failed to master the Hunters' secret technique, Asterion couldn't say he had gained nothing at all.
He constantly recalled the movements of the Hunters in the game from his memories, then referenced the movements of the Hunters hunting in the Wildspire Waste in the real world... Well, after mulling it over, he actually managed to figure something out.
Whoosh!
The Kushala Daora's tail was like a slender steel whip, smashing toward Asterion with the sound of tearing air—Ding!
A sound that existed only in Asterion's mind, and in that instant, his body violently twisted his hips and retreated!
Foresight Slash!!
It wasn't just a dodge; immediately after the dodge, he swung a fierce horizontal slash forward!!
This wasn't the little toothpick held by Hunters, but a massive Great Sword, thicker and broader than anything a Great Sword user wielded!!
CLANG!!
That massive, crisp sound of metal colliding rang out once again. If anyone could see this duel, they would surely doubt whether the Glavenus's long sword-tail would snap under such an impact.
Unlike in the game, in the real world, even if the sword-tail wasn't in its heated state, it could very likely break if subjected to sufficient impact and pressure. After all, it was essentially a giant block of iron, and since it was a blade, there was no such thing as one that wouldn't break or chip.
Sweeping the retracted sword-tail before his eyes, Asterion clearly saw two concave chips appear on it. The Great Sword he had painstakingly forged had actually had a small piece forcibly knocked off.
Kushala Daora, worthy of the name.
When Hunters faced monsters with such powerful defenses, they would protect their weapons by concentrating Spirit to strengthen the blade, enhancing its sharpness and hardness to ensure it wouldn't be destroyed. But Asterion didn't know such techniques.
He was like a brute with infinite strength—strong enough, with a blade big enough—swinging purely on brute force.
But the effect was sufficient. At the very least, the two chips Asterion had hacked into the Rusted Kushala's body were something Hunters couldn't achieve even with all their might—put simply, it was equivalent to drilling two Dragonators into the Rusted Kushala's body consecutively.
"ROAARR!!!"
The Rusted Kushala roared again. Visible to the naked eye, wind that should have been transparent gathered together, wrapping the torrential rain within it, shrouding the Rusted Kushala's body like a veil of gauze to protect it.
"Roar roar? Roar roar roar! Roar roar roar roar!" (Are you stupid? You're already that rusty, and you're wrapping this water-laden wind around yourself? Are you afraid you're not uncomfortable enough?)
As everyone knows, metal rusts more easily in humid environments, not to mention with strong winds blowing. There is a specific term for it: wind erosion.
Regardless of whether the Rusted Kushala could understand his roar, Asterion felt satisfied with the taunt. In his view, the Rusted Kushala's operation was purely self-torture.
He didn't know if it was an illusion, but for a split second, Asterion felt the Rusted Kushala opposite him stiffen slightly, while the silver Kushala Daora perched on the stone pillar raised its head.
"ROAARR!!!"
Maybe it was just an illusion. Asterion didn't have time to ponder such things. The Rusted Kushala had already whipped up a tornado on the spot. From its surroundings to its body, the violent cyclone had become a storm, a black gale like a tempest!!
Only by feeling all of this at close range could one clearly recognize what a true natural disaster was—even with the Glavenus's heavy weight, counting both flesh and mineral sword-tail, Asterion felt a bit unsteady standing there.
This harsh storm was simply too powerful, so strong that even though he half-squatted and lowered his body, the entire dragon's frame was still swaying slightly.
BOOM—WHOOSH!!!
Violently flapping its wings, two massive tornadoes rose up with it as the center, stretching from the ground to the high sky like a water line reaching the heavens, effectively pulling down the thick rain clouds overhead.
Unlike the situation where the two Kushala Daoras were fighting each other and appeared to have little momentum because they were fighting for control of the wind, when facing Asterion, the Rusted Kushala fully exerted its power as an Elder Dragon.
Commanding the gale, it was worthy of the title of the Steel Dragon.
Facts proved that the only ones who can control the wind aren't just "Playmaker," but also Kushala Daora.
The howling wind made Asterion feel as if he were inside a typhoon at this very moment; even opening his eyes brought a faint stinging pain.
If the air sac shell hadn't given Asterion an alternative way to breathe, inhaling through his nose would have been difficult in this gale, simply because the air around him seemed to be accelerating.
The power the Rusted Kushala displayed at this moment had completely exceeded what a game could present to a player. It was a power that felt as if it could destroy the entire world, so much so that a layer of the surrounding ground and rocks was forcibly scraped away by the knife-like wind.
It wouldn't leave convenient gaps for a Hunter to hide in like in the game. Honestly, Asterion couldn't help but suspect that this Rusted Kushala had been throwing the match against the silvery-gray Kushala Daora earlier.
Compared to this earth-shattering destructive power, the battle between the two Steel Dragons just now was no different from a lover's quarrel.
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