The Fire Wyvern group of the Ancient Tree now stood at a vague, uncertain boundary. Perhaps only through time, and through certain opportunities or trials, could it be determined whether this Fire Wyvern group would truly become a part of the New World's ecosystem.
It was a long and continuous process.
Moreover, this isolation within the Ancient Tree's Fire Wyvern group had greatly affected the ordinary Fire Wyverns of the New World. For two entire years, sixty percent of the Rathians living in the Wildspire Waste had not given birth to hatchlings. Though the short-term impact wasn't yet evident, over time it would bring significant consequences to the original Fire Wyvern population.
A single misstep could shake the entire balance. For the Fire Wyverns of the New World, flying to the Ancient Tree for "mating" had already become an instinct etched into their very genes. If this matter wasn't properly resolved, then even if Logan successfully completed his metamorphosis and became a true Elder Dragon—
Nature itself would never allow the continued existence of the Fire Wyvern group occupying the Ancient Tree.
...
Aki descended into the nest with her wings ablaze. The water vapor rising from her flames condensed into mist that quickly dissipated above the nest, and the surging heat made the already warm chamber feel stiflingly hot.
Over the past few days, rain had begun to fall throughout the Ancient Forest. The continuous downpour made the Fire Wyverns—who loathed cold, damp weather—lose all desire to patrol their territories. Aside from daily hunting and the occasional round of territorial inspection, they spent nearly all their time huddled together inside their nests.
The cats, too, hurried to build large rain shelters for Fire Wyvern families living in open nests, so that the mated pairs could rest more comfortably.
Inside one of the nests, Aki squeezed into the hollow, letting Logan's wing drape over her comparatively "small" body as they shared each other's warmth.
Yet at this moment, Logan gazed uneasily at the cold rain outside the nest. For some reason, he kept recalling the battle he had witnessed twenty years ago in the Wildspire Waste—between the Kushala Daora and the Namielle.
The rain back then had been just as cold, just as unending.
Inside him, that sense of urgency grew ever stronger. It felt as if something within his body—something suffocating—was desperately struggling, madly trying to break through its final restraint!
...
"Hurry! Cover all the exposed supplies with tarps! Once you finish your tasks, head to the Gathering Hub to collect the cold-resistance gear!"
Despite the pouring rain, under the command of a young man, hunters, scholars, craftsmen, and cats alike worked in perfect order to construct defensive measures.
From a high platform, the Admiral watched the young man for a long while, then turned his head toward the Commander beside him with a laugh.
"Your son is exactly like you were back in the day. Looks like in a few years, once we're old, he'll be able to take over your duties. Then we can finally retire peacefully back in the Old World, hahaha."
The Commander gave the Admiral a speechless look. Return to the Old World to retire?
That was something he had never even considered!
It wasn't just him—everyone, including the Admiral and the Field Master, had long since been prepared to dedicate their entire lives to the exploration of the New World.
It had already been twenty years since they arrived. For the Commander, a mere human, half of his life was already gone. Yet these two decades hadn't worn down his ideals; instead, they had only strengthened his resolve.
"Shika is an excellent executor," the Commander said, shaking his head with faint regret, "but not a suitable decision-maker."
Although the thought of his own son inheriting his work was indeed an appealing one, the Commander knew his child's capabilities well. His son's future did not lie in the New World—sooner or later, he would return to the Old Continent.
Fortunately, however, he had a good daughter-in-law. She was already pregnant with his grandchild. Perhaps, in time, this endeavor would fall into the hands of that child yet to be born.
"Haha, you old rascal."
The Admiral laughed and shook his head, unconcerned by the Commander's evasion of his jest. Just as he was about to continue speaking, a crackling sound echoed from the wooden roof overhead.
Reaching up, the Admiral firmly caught a lump of hail the size of a baby's fist. A chill swept through the air, accompanied by a fierce gust that surged across all of Astera.
The Admiral and the Commander exchanged glances, each seeing the same gravity reflected in the other's eyes.
"Kushala Daora… it's here!!"
With a sharp crack, the hailstone in the Admiral's hand was crushed into powder.
Following several days of discussion, the final decision had been reached: they would track and investigate, but not intercept. They would not repeat the actions of the Second Fleet years ago—when a team had been specially formed to venture deep into the Wildspire Waste in an attempt to capture one.
After all, the Teostra back then had already taught the Research Commission a harsh lesson—never to harbor naïve thoughts of capturing an Elder Dragon under conditions of limited manpower and scarce supplies.
As for the materials required for pursuit and investigation, over the past two years, thanks to their deepening ties with the Fire Wyvern tribe of the Ancient Tree, a complete route had been opened from Astera to the Ancient Tree. This greatly accelerated the cats' progress in agricultural cultivation, and at least in terms of medicinal supplies, the pressure had dropped to its lowest point.
It was still entirely possible to form an elite team to carry out missions deep within the New World.
After the hail came roaring winds and heavy snow.
In an instant, the temperature across the outer region of the Ancient Tree plummeted. Thick snowflakes fluttered down, causing much of Astera's work to grind to a halt.
Fortunately, the Research Commission had long been prepared. Hunters immediately took measures against the cold, their eyes fixed on the dense black clouds drawing ever closer to the New World. Once they judged that the point of descent would be the Ancient Forest, they all steeled themselves for the impending onslaught of an Elder Dragon.
Especially the members of the First Fleet—after all, that great tsunami back then had left an unforgettable mark on their memories!
As the gales grew stronger and waves slammed endlessly against the reefs, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Within the clouds, that looming silhouette flickered in and out of sight. The howling wind was Its toy, and the apocalyptic storm unfolding below was but a trivial phenomenon born from Its arrival.
During the Elder Crossing, Elder Dragons released their full powers without restraint. They did so not only to clear the path ahead—preventing conflict with any fools who failed to recognize their presence—but also to declare to other mighty beings that, even if Their lives were nearing their end, even with only a few decades left to live, They were by no means prey to anyone.
After all, in this world, the creatures that regarded Elder Dragons as mere prey were not limited to the Nergigante alone.
Of course, whether this also carried a hint of desire—to leave behind some trace of Their existence before death arrived—was not entirely impossible either.
Along Kushala Daora's flight path, Astera stood at the very forefront, destined to bear the brunt of the calamity wrought by the Elder Dragon's storm. Worse yet, the Celestial Pursuit was so conspicuous that it, too, could easily draw Kushala Daora's wrath.
Thus, all personnel aboard the Celestial Pursuit—the main gathering hub—had already been evacuated in advance, to prevent any unnecessary loss of life.
Under the tense gazes of the assembled hunters, Kushala Daora arrived before Astera. Gazing upon the vast, unnatural structure, Its heart—already agitated by the nearing end of Its life—grew even more restless. A senseless fury flickered faintly within Its gaze toward Astera.
Around It, six immense tornadoes gradually took form. Just as they were about to be unleashed upon Astera, It suddenly sensed something.
Deep within the New World, there was a being—one that was at this very moment brazenly radiating Its presence, making no effort to conceal itself at all.
For Kushala Daora, who had carried all the fear of death along Its journey only to let it all ignite into wrath, this was no different from being provoked right in Its face.
Without the slightest hesitation, the Elder Dragon abandoned Astera altogether. Amid the howling winds, it took off, carrying the freezing blizzard with it as it flew toward the depths of the Ancient Forest.
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