"What is the meaning of this? Have the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers gone on another sightseeing tour of Astera?"
"…Putting clothes on a Kulu-Ya-Ku is no small feat. His curiosity is just too intense; he's constantly fidgeting. He nearly tore the collar right off!" The Admiral continued to ramble on about the difficulties he faced while trying to dress the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers. It seemed the duo had truly put the big man through the wringer.
After listening for a moment, Asterion realized that the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers hadn't actually visited Astera. Instead, they had run into the Admiral's group while trying to scavenge supplies from a hunter's field camp.
So, the hunters didn't come all this way just to return the brothers?
"Hey! Is it safe to come over yet, Admiral?"
Another shout echoed from the distant forest. Hearing the call, the Admiral turned and gestured for the rest of his party to approach.
Asterion watched as a large cart was pushed out from between the trees. It was piled high with goods, pulled along by the brute strength of an Apceros, with several people flanking it to help navigate the uneven terrain.
"Haha! Your gift is right here on the cart, Boss! Along with our secret weapon for this year's Glutton's Festival—this time, we're definitely taking first place!" As he spoke, the Admiral raised a fist, radiating confidence.
"Is now really the time for that, Admiral?" one of the hunters pushing the cart asked. He was warily eyeing Mirrorblade, who lay slumped on the ground nearby. The hunter looked incredibly tense. "Are you sure it's okay to be this relaxed? The atmosphere feels… off."
"Oh! It's perfectly fine," the Admiral replied, crossing his arms and nodding. "The Boss was just teaching the kid a lesson. I can tell."
"Is that really 'teaching'?" the hunter couldn't help but mutter. "That pressure didn't feel like a lesson at all. It felt more like he was going to cleave him in—mmph!"
The hunter cut himself off, catching Asterion's gaze. He didn't dare finish the sentence.
Asterion didn't care for such trifles. He understood the hunters' language perfectly well. In fact, Mirrorblade did too. The young one's intelligence was partly inherited from Asterion and partly a result of interacting with the Grimalkynes, hunters, and scholars who frequented Asterion's territory.
But understanding didn't mean he was in the mood to care. Mirrorblade, who normally would have been infuriated by such belittling comments, remained motionless on the ground. He looked as though his very spirit had been shattered, lost in a profound existential crisis.
The Glutton's Festival
"Ah, the Admiral is here, meow!"
Leaf, who had run off in a panic when Asterion was thrashing Mirrorblade, returned with a large group of Grimalkynes. Seeing that Mirrorblade was still breathing despite his catatonic state, Leaf let out a sigh of relief and waved a paw at the Admiral's group in greeting.
"I've told you, it's the Admiral, not 'the Admiral-ape'!" the big man grumbled. "Anyway, we've arrived for the Glutton's Festival."
"Then let's head up, meow! We've already found a spot for your camp, meow!" Unlike the nervousness Leaf showed toward Asterion, he was quite confident and poised when dealing with the hunters.
After instructing a Grimalkyne warrior to lead the hunters and their cart up into the canopy, Leaf hopped over to Asterion's side to explain why these "apes" had shown up.
The Glavenus Tribe's Glutton's Festival was held annually, two weeks after the rainy season ended. Originally, it was a celebration of the tribe receiving the protection of the "Great Glavenus Boss." Later, when Asterion returned to the nest after his first major evolution, the anniversary gained a specific name and tradition.
Asterion's sense of time was naturally blurred. He only tracked time—dawn, dusk, day, or night—when stalking specific prey or calculating an ambush. Beyond that, the years simply flowed by.
Thus, for many years, the specific date of the Glutton's Festival was determined by the Old Shaman and the other elders after much deliberation. They would simply report the date to Asterion before the festivities began.
Back in the Wildspire Waste, the end of the rainy season was a clear marker. But since the tribe moved to the Ancient Forest, the Old Shaman had become quite frustrated—because in the Ancient Forest, it felt like the rainy season never truly ended.
The festival's timing fell into uncertainty. It was the most important event for the Glavenus Tribe, and even if Asterion often missed it due to hunting trips or evolutionary slumbers, the tribe didn't dare slack off on the preparations.
Salvation came from the hunters. While establishing research camps deep within the forest, they shared their calendar systems with the tribe. By introducing the concept of a structured year, the Glutton's Festival finally found a permanent home: October 10th of every year.
Since then, the hunters had attended every year. Even though Asterion had never personally made an appearance—much to the disappointment of the scholars from Astera—the hunters thoroughly enjoyed the local festivities. They even participated in cooking competitions, going paw-to-stove against the Grimalkynes.
The seasonings were usually normal for those contests; since Asterion wasn't around, the hunters had to eat what they cooked.
A Lesson in Survival
Leaf finished his explanation quickly. Asterion, now understanding the relationship between his tribe and the hunters during his absence, grabbed Leaf and took flight toward the canopy. He was curious to see what kind of gift the Admiral had brought.
As for Mirrorblade... Asterion acted as if the youth didn't even exist, leaving him behind on the forest floor. Seeing the "Great Boss" take such an indifferent stance, the Grimalkynes following Leaf didn't dare interact with the "Young Boss" either. They scurried up the tree as fast as their paws could carry them.
The hunters wanted to linger and check on Mirrorblade. Unlike Asterion, Mirrorblade was actually on quite good terms with these humans, who occasionally brought him food and ores. However, they weren't willing to risk offending Asterion.
This was, after all, a family matter for the King of the Forest.
Only when the area beneath the Giant Tree was empty did Mirrorblade finally crawl up from the dirt. Compared to Asterion, he was far too thin-skinned. He possessed high intelligence but lacked the experience of true hardship. In Asterion's eyes, he was a spoiled child.
The ones who had spoiled him weren't even Asterion or the Acidic Glavenus; it was the Grimalkynes and the research hunters. They had shielded Mirrorblade from the struggle of the hunt. The Grimalkynes did it out of respect for Asterion's lineage, while the scholars did it simply to build rapport.
If they had followed the true tradition of a Glavenus, Mirrorblade would have become a cold, resilient, and battle-hardened predator within two years.
He would have evolved—or he would have died.
Before today's challenge, Mirrorblade hadn't expected to defeat his father in one go. But he never imagined the battle would end so effortlessly. Once his father got serious, he didn't even have a chance to strike back. If the hunters hadn't arrived, his father might have truly cleaved him right there.
Mirrorblade... was afraid.
He realized he needed more combat. He needed stronger combat.
Glancing at the fading red glow on his blade-tail, Mirrorblade looked up at the impossibly high canopy of the Great Tree one last time. Then, without looking back, he turned and walked into the distance.
Just you wait, Father!
Asterion wasn't worried about Mirrorblade surpassing him. He had simply taught his offspring what it meant to be a Glavenus—to cast aside useless things. When two of their kind met, the only thing that mattered was whose tail-blade was sharper.
Only by becoming strong could one survive and thrive in this cruel nature. Whether Mirrorblade could transcend the status of a Deviant and become a true Elder Dragon would depend entirely on his own path.
The Gifts of the Old World
Arriving at the nest ahead of the rest, Asterion waited for the Admiral to deliver the gifts. He was genuinely curious... though he had to endure the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers chirping in his ear.
Unlike the Bazelgeuse brothers, the Kulu-Ya-Ku duo lived in the same nest as Asterion. Ever since they returned, they had been complaining that Asterion was being too hard on Mirrorblade. One of the brothers even tried to give Asterion "parenting advice," causing the Glavenus to roll his eyes.
"Kway-ga!" (I never pecked you back then!)
Are you serious? Asterion thought. When we first met, you were so scared of me you abandoned your egg and ran! I robbed you of eggs so many times after that. You wouldn't have dared peck me!
"Koo-kway-ga!!" (It was so hard back then, but I still stole eggs to raise you! Why won't you raise the little one!)
"Roar!" (Because we are Glavenus! We don't steal eggs! We kill other dragons!)
Finally fed up with the nagging, Asterion roared back irritably.
"Ga-ga! Koo-ga!!" (So mean!! Why did you get meaner after you grew wings!!)
"Roar, roar-roar!" (First of all, wings have nothing to do with being mean! Second—)
Asterion stopped mid-sentence. He saw the Kulu-Ya-Ku looking at him with watery eyes.
[Large Wyvern Tear]
"Roar, roar." (Alright, alright. I wasn't being mean to you. Don't overthink it. I'm just helping him get stronger.)
Asterion felt helpless. He still couldn't handle it when the bird acted like this... this guy was just different from other monsters.
"Koo-ga?" (Stronger?)
"Roar!" (That's right. This is the only way a Glavenus gets stronger. Staying in my territory forever is no way to live; he'd just end up as meat for another dragon.)
"Kwa-kwa! Ga!" (In that case, it's fine!)
The Kulu-Ya-Ku instantly cheered up. He believed 90%—no, 110%—of everything Asterion said.
"Koo-ga!! (I'll go tell the little one!!)"
"Roar!" (Wait!)
His attempt to stop him was useless. The Kulu-Ya-Ku dashed out of the nest, nearly colliding with a Grimalkyne guard, and vanished into the foliage.
Asterion: "..."
He realized he had underestimated one factor: the one truly spoiling Mirrorblade was likely that bird brain.
Damn bird.
"Pfft-meow."
Hearing a muffled laugh, Asterion glanced over to see Leaf covering his mouth, trying to look serious. When he noticed Asterion looking, Leaf stood up straight and stared fixedly ahead.
With a huff of smoke from his nostrils, Asterion lay down in the center of the nest to wait. Before long, the Admiral and his team pushed the cart inside.
"Yo! Sorry to keep you waiting, Boss!" The Admiral was as boisterous as ever. Without any preamble, he pulled the cloth off the cart, revealing rows of jars and bottles.
"Seasonings from our homeland! I'm sure you'll love them, Boss!" the Admiral said cheerfully. "Though the quantity is a bit low, I hope you don't mind… yeah, it's a long way from Astera to here, and the path is dangerous. We couldn't bring too much."
When the Glavenus Tribe first migrated, things went smoothly because they had an Acidic Glavenus and hunters as bodyguards. More importantly, Asterion and the Bazelgeuse brothers had cleared out any major threats along the way.
But years had passed, and in the competitive environment of the Ancient Forest, that route had long since been reclaimed by powerful monsters. Small groups of hunters could sneak through, but a caravan of carts was a massive target. Not to mention the venomous snakes, insects, and even the "Vespoids" that were lethal to humans.
"Roar!"
"Ahem, the Boss is asking, meow: 'Are there other things from your homeland?' meow."
Leaf was now very adept at translating for Asterion.
"Eh? The Boss is curious about our home?" The Admiral scratched his head. "Well, we have some things… oh wait, no, we do, but I'm afraid there's nothing the Boss could actually use. It's all sized for Grimalkynes."
Perhaps influenced by Leaf, the Admiral had started adding "meow" to his sentences. Hara promptly elbowed him in the ribs, snapping him out of it.
"If the Great Glavenus is curious, let's show him," Hara said.
The hunters moved quickly, unloading the items from the cart with the help of the Grimalkynes.
Soon, an array of tools, jars, and bottles was laid out before Asterion. He even saw several exquisite, semi-transparent glass jars. They were a pale green color and very beautiful.
"These were brought over by the research ships coming from the Old World," the Admiral explained enthusiastically, squatting down. "The ships mostly carry essential supplies, so these kinds of crafts are rare. I thought they'd make perfect gifts."
They were indeed perfect. Grimalkynes were feylines—cats. And cats can never resist shiny objects. Hunters often traded glass products for high-quality materials from the tribe.
Aside from these novelties, the hunters had even brought toys. Wooden ones that made tinkling sounds or could be assembled—clearly designed for human children... but then Asterion looked at Leaf.
The cat's eyes were already sparkling. His paws were opening and closing rhythmically, clearly itching to play with them right then and there.
Countryside cats are all the same, Asterion thought, resisting the urge to sigh. It felt like watching a documentary about indigenous tribes seeing modern technology for the first time.
The hunters also brought several weapons forged from ore: a Long Sword, Dual Blades, and a Great Sword. They were larger than what the average Grimalkyne used, but much smaller than a human's weapon.
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