Without a doubt, what Asterion feared most was the possibility of a Safi'jiiva tracking him across thousands of miles to the Confluence of Fates, searching for the culprit who had slaughtered its offspring.
For any dragon, the greatest source of panic is the unknown. Even though Asterion, as a Glavenus with extensive knowledge, knew many things, an Elder Dragon like Safi'jiiva remained a complete mystery. Its habits were unknown, its preferences were unknown, and even how it reproduced or felt about its own kin was a total blank... Asterion couldn't afford to gamble.
"Roar?" (Nothing happened?) Kulve Taroth asked, tilting her head.
"Roar, roar, roar. Roar, roar." (No powerful dragons have entered the ley lines. However, a strange fellow recently arrived on the surface.)
"Roar?" (A strange fellow?)
"Roar, roar. Roar, roar, roar." (He plays with ice. It's very cold. A friend living over the mountain complained that the ground is all white now—it's completely boring.)
"Roar, roar?" (Plays with ice? White ground?)
"Roar, roar, roar, roar." (I heard from a friend's friend that he came from further north, a place where everything is white.)
One should never underestimate Kulve Taroth's information network. Even beneath the Hoarfrost Reach, there were ley line corridors. Shara Ishvalda often frequented those areas, and naturally, Kulve Taroth moved through the depths there as well.
"Roar? Roar, roar?" (Can it fly? Has ice on its body? A long, slender tail?)
Although Kulve Taroth's description was a bit vague, Asterion could roughly match it to a name—Velkhana?
Well, it could also be some other dragon he didn't recognize, but that wasn't the main issue. The important thing was what this dragon was doing and which areas were being affected.
Calculating based on what Kulve Taroth's friend had said, Asterion realized the place where it was "snowing" seemed to be the Wildspire Waste. After asking a few more questions, he was shocked to hear that even the place "filled with trees" had been hit by the disaster.
He couldn't sit still anymore.
It wasn't that the Glavenus Tribe was profoundly important to Asterion—they were just some Felynes who had joined him to improve his quality of life and provide entertainment, much like a modern person keeping pets. No matter how cute a dog is, if it bites you, it's going in the pot—er, of course, the cats wouldn't bite Asterion, at least not yet. But in terms of absolute importance, they weren't irreplaceable.
Even if the Glavenus Tribe were wiped out, it would just be a matter of finding another spot to gather a new batch of cats. The New World wasn't lacking cats who could cook.
What truly worried Asterion were the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers—those "bird-things" were different.
The Bazelgeuse brothers could take care of themselves, but those bird-things really struggled to survive in the Ancient Forest without a dragon to protect them.
Having been in this world for so many years, Asterion understood all too well how much devastation an Elder Dragon could cause and the consequences that followed. Those Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers were pitiful, weak, and ignorant; what if they were kicked to death by some passing powerhouse dragon?
"Roar." (No, I have to go back.)
As Kulve Taroth watched with a dumbfounded expression, Asterion suddenly scrambled up from the ground.
"Roar??" (Wait, what about your new clothes [armor]??)
"Roar, roar. Roar?" (I have something very important to do. Do you want to come with me?)
Seeing Asterion's desperate, impatient look as he searched for a way back to the surface, Kulve Taroth... was stunned.
A desperate person can achieve anything, and a desperate Second Fleet Master is no exception.
Regardless of how he racked his brain, before the battle began, the Second Fleet Master actually managed to lead his technicians in mounting an entire Dragonator onto an airship. Although the ship flew a bit slowly, it did manage to take off despite carrying such a heavy load.
It could even actually fire.
Seeing the massive spear protruding from the bow slowly retracting amidst the shouts of the technicians, the Commander let out a long sigh of relief.
"With this, we should be able to play a role in the battle, right?"
Smack!
Before the Commander could finish his sentence, the Second Fleet Master slapped him on the shoulder and said, "Don't get your hopes too high. Be prepared for the entire ship to crash. We might only land one hit during the whole fight."
"One hit is enough," the Admiral said in a deep voice. "This isn't some replica from the Wycademy; it's an ancient Dragonator excavated from ruins. Even an Elder Dragon won't feel good after being pierced by it."
That's the thing about archaeological civilizations: you dig randomly, and even if you find something great whose principles you can't understand or replicate, it'll work as long as you provide power.
And the lethality is immense.
Normally, a "relic" like this Dragonator should be placed in the Wycademy as a rare research specimen. But the veterans of the New World are a law unto themselves. Considering the strength of the monsters the Research Commission encountered—especially now, with the ecosystem so disrupted that monsters were running wild and even attacking the base—the Kingdom and the Guild had sent this powerful weapon to the Commission.
It couldn't be helped. Although the circumstances were different, the Research Commission had indeed been pushed by monster attacks to the point where they had to consider evacuation... retreating first and waiting for the New World's environment to stabilize before continuing the investigation.
However, the Admiral and the others couldn't bear to part with Astera, the base they had built over decades. This was their youth, the place where their dreams began, and their life's work. Once abandoned, there probably wouldn't be much left by the time they returned.
Without maintenance, human creations are quickly erased by nature.
As for the Glavenus Tribe, they were acting purely out of survival; they couldn't just flee to the other side of the forest without Asterion's permission.
Once all preparations were complete, the army composed of Hunters and the Glavenus Tribe set out toward the Velkhana's habitat.
Cough—calling it an "army" is a bit of an exaggeration. There were about two or three hundred people and cats in total. Dozens of Hunters, about a hundred including technicians, and the rest were Grimalkynes.
Most were black-and-white cats, with a small portion being brown-and-white, wearing fluffy clothes. The strongest among them wore armor and carried weapons that weren't crude bone tools, but standardized equipment of the same style, size, and specification.
Ordinary Grimalkynes were responsible for transporting cannons and ballistae, as well as ammunition, or waiting for opportunities to provide support during combat.
Over the years, the "Dragon-Chosen Warriors" led by Pot had expanded to over a hundred. These stout Grimalkynes used custom-made weapons, forged according to their personal preferences and combat needs.
They were all Fire-element weapons, passionately forged by Grimalkyne blacksmiths and Hunter artisans.
These Dragon-Chosen Warriors possessed combat power no less than that of elite Hunters. Their strength was roughly equal, and given the characteristics of the Lynian race, their agility was even higher than that of the Hunters.
The core of the entire battle plan was, naturally, Mirrorblade and the Bazelgeuse brothers. The many Hunters and cats were actually support—the primary goal was to repel the Velkhana. If they could kill it directly, that would be making history.
Considering the destruction caused by the Teostra before its death and the power Velkhana had shown in the previous battle, the plan dictated that this Elder Dragon quest should take place as far away from the Glavenus Tribe's village as possible.
The army advanced.
But while the support force was still on the move, the flying Bazelgeuse brothers had already engaged the Velkhana.
Talk about being impatient.
Years had passed, and the Bazelgeuse brothers had progressed further down the path of becoming Seething Bazelgeuse. Even without entering combat, one could feel the high temperature radiating from their bodies at close range. The red glow beneath their head scales almost never dimmed.
Dot had indeed relayed the battle plan to the Bazelgeuse brothers, but once they actually saw the Velkhana, only a few words remained in their heads: Lead the battlefield away.
As Fire-element monsters, the Bazelgeuse brothers were naturally hostile toward a fellow like Velkhana, who made the surrounding environment chillingly uncomfortable.
Thus, as soon as they met, while the Velkhana was still leisurely strolling through its "Ice World," it heard a loud roar. Looking up, it saw a thick, heavy object crashing toward it. The two dragons immediately tumbled into a heap on the slick ice.
Having just entered combat, the Bazelgeuse brothers remembered what they were supposed to do. After dazing the confused Velkhana with a headbutt, one clumsily beat its wings to take flight again, heading further away.
Sure enough, a dragon singing and strolling in its own home, suddenly struck and flee'd from by an intruder—with Velkhana's temper, it naturally couldn't swallow this insult. With an angry roar, it immediately gave chase to the Bazelgeuse!
This was perfect. Two aggressive, hot-tempered dragons had met; naturally, they were going to have a hell of a fight.
Unlike Mirrorblade—who, despite having the title of a Fire-element monster, inherited his father's habit of not liking to breathe fire and preferring physical attacks with a non-heated tail—the Bazelgeuse brothers were proficient in both.
They possessed both strong muscles and brute force, and their explosive scales on the head and tail gave them powerful fire attacks.
So, when the support forces followed the commotion from afar, they witnessed a wondrous sight: the Velkhana had just flapped its wings to whip up an icy blizzard, freezing the Bazelgeuse inside a block of ice. The thick, blue-white ice was so dense you couldn't even see the Bazelgeuse inside.
But in the next instant, blue-purple light glowed from within both ends of the massive ice block. In a moment, the ice at both ends was melted away, turning into white steam amidst a series of explosions.
The Bazelgeuse twisted its body like a demon breaking free from shackles, occasionally curving its chin and tail toward its flanks, letting successive explosions shatter the ice trapping its body.
In terms of being "thick-skinned," even a point-blank explosion inside an ice block couldn't hurt the Bazelgeuse. Once free, it lunged toward the Velkhana!
"Quick! While the Velkhana hasn't noticed us, find a way to move the Dragonator closer!!"
"The young boss is going in too, meow! Sparky! Hurry and lead the team to keep up with the young boss, meow!"
"Leave it to us, meow! This time we must keep up with the young boss's offensive, meow!!"
"Be careful, meow! If things look bad, dig a hole and run, meow!!"
Though it was a bit chaotic, this situation was still within the plan previously set by the Commander and Sparky. Therefore, upon entering the battlefield, the support force was like a... well, a mudslide flowing into a river, scattering and entering the white, snowy field.
This new battlefield was far from the ice Velkhana had created around its home—which covered almost half a mountain range—but there was still thick snow, making movement very difficult.
Under these conditions, the lighter weight of the ordinary Grimalkynes actually made it easier for them to move in the snow. They busied themselves in the snow with trap tools; whether it was Shock Traps or Pitfall Traps, anything that could slightly interfere with Velkhana's movements was considered a success.
This was also the core objective the Commander and Sparky followed when designing the plan: they didn't seek to defeat or even kill the Velkhana, but only to make it feel annoyed and troubled.
It's like a person wandering into a room full of mosquitoes. A mosquito won't suck a person dry, but it's enough to make them feel irritated or panicked. Especially when the person finds they can't kill or clear out the mosquitoes no matter what, they'll want to leave.
This was the traditional method the Human Kingdom and the Hunter's Guild used to deal with Elder Dragon attacks.
"Roar!!" (Die!!)
Mirrorblade didn't care what the "Ape-Dragons" (Humans) thought. He was here today to avenge the shame of his previous defeat and flight.
He had undergone specialized Glavenus Sword Technique training from his mother, patiently let Hara gather information from the old cats of the Glavenus Tribe about how his hated father used to fight, and even used an egg to bribe the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers to hear "bird-brained" stories about Asterion's past.
Comprehensive learning!
And thus came Mirrorblade's current strike. He didn't even roar upon entering the field; instead, he moved stealthily, hiding his form as much as possible through thick snowdrifts and using frost-covered trees for cover. While the Velkhana was immersed in its brawl with the Bazelgeuse, he suddenly erupted.
The delayed roar wasn't to boost his own morale, but to startle the Velkhana. Mirrorblade's loud voice boomed right in the Velkhana's ear, followed immediately by the shattering sound of the ice coating the Velkhana's body being hacked to pieces.
Mirrorblade was no "mosquito," and his serrated blade was no "toothpick" in a hunter's hand.
What peeled off the Velkhana's body wasn't just ordinary ice, but a stone-like shell with a strange luster—its primary carapace, covered in a layer of volcanic glass.
"ROAR!!!"
In pain, the Velkhana instinctively sprayed a cold tide from the gaps in its carapace. That was the supercooled water within its body. Just like in the last battle, in the blink of an eye, everything within a hundred-meter radius of the Velkhana was frozen in ice!!
The Velkhana was bleeding. It had been startled by Mirrorblade's sudden appearance, its whole body shuddering. What followed was a massive sense of humiliation and the rage of an Elder Dragon whose dignity had been challenged.
In its fury, the Velkhana didn't even look at the Bazelgeuse that had been pummeling it; instead, it locked its gaze firmly onto Mirrorblade—it was the same as before!
YOU AGAIN!!
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