In the air, the miasma grew thicker and thicker; looking upward, one could only vaguely make out, far in the distance above, the hazy outline of the Coral Highlands.
The Rotten Vale is truly a wondrous place. Clearly it does not see a single drop of rain all year round, yet because of the root systems of those land corals and plants, it still filters out potable water that is in no way inferior to other regions; there are even quite a few precious fish here that do not exist outside.
This can also be counted as one of the food sources for some of the smaller creatures living in the Rotten Vale.
"Chirp!"
A few sharp cries came. Looking closely, above the miasma, several Raphinos—minds eroded by the miasma and with parts of their outer skin ulcerated into a thoroughly revolting state—were roaring down at a Girros below.
It is hard to imagine that Raphinos—being the largest food source in the Coral Highlands and, whether in appearance or in the amount of meat, ranking among the top of the Wingdrakes—have in this land of death become such a disgusting sight.
Moreover, unlike those docile Raphinos on the highland above, the Raphinos here are aggressively proactive; their food source is no longer nutrient-rich coral eggs but has shifted to the blood and flesh of living creatures.
After watching the "battle" of the Raphinos besieging the Girros for a few moments, Logan lost interest. Although the Raphinos held the numerical advantage, compared to even the weakest of the Jagras family, these small creatures' claws could not pierce through the hide.
What seemed like an overwhelming advantage was, in fact, an illusion—once they paused even slightly, they would suffer the Girros's fatal counterattack.
Moreover—
Not far away, Logan saw a Great Girros swaggering toward this direction with a group of its underlings, looking every bit like a mob boss. This fellow possessed ranged attack capabilities, and if nothing unexpected happened, those mindless Raphinos would soon become the Girros pack's lunch.
Of course, that was assuming nothing unexpected occurred.
And at this very moment, the greatest "unexpected" was staring right at that group of Girros.
Unlike the Radobaan, the Girros are the most numerous and widespread monsters in the Rotten Vale, with the strongest reproductive ability. They occupy the vast majority of the mid-layer zones. Basically, as long as one enters the Rotten Vale, one can easily find traces of them.
It could be said that in the Rotten Vale, anything might be missing—but never the Girros. After all, these creatures account for fully half of the Vale's food chain.
By now, Logan, who had been tracking the Kushala Daora, had not eaten for a full day.
The Great Girros, strutting arrogantly, crawled toward the Raphinos flock with its underlings surrounding it, its parotid glands rustling and trembling as it raised its head high, listening to its followers' praises.
And suddenly—it was ambushed by a dragon!
A fireball exploded directly within the Girros group.
The immense shockwave sent the 11-meter-long Great Girros tumbling sideways, rolling several times along the ground before it could steady itself again.
Before it even had time to see who had attacked, it instinctively opened its parotid glands, which began to shake rapidly, emitting a low-frequency sound like that of a cricket.
This was what every Great Girros did before a fight—calling its underlings!!
Although the Great Girros had earned the nickname "godfather of the mob" in Logan's previous life, in truth it was more like a street punk leader.
The kind that would never fight one-on-one if it could gang up instead!
Fortunately, compared to its relative—the Great Jagras of the Ancient Forest—it had one redeeming quality: under normal circumstances, it would not easily abandon its underlings.
Unlike the Great Jagras, which completely disregarded ordinary Jagras, this Great Girros was, on the whole, rather loyal—worthy of being called the leader of its kind.
Under its summons, one after another, Girros within the hidden tunnels let out the same sound and rushed swiftly toward this direction.
At that moment, a figure emerged within the dense miasma, walking as if entirely unconcerned about danger, strolling unhurriedly to the very spot where the fireball had exploded. After a brief selection, it opened its enormous jaws and bit down on the Girros that had been killed by the blast.
Enraged!
The Great Girros was furious!
Even the Odogaron, overlord of the Rotten Vale and apex of the regional food chain, had never been this arrogant when facing a Girros pack!
At least when the Odogaron hunted its underlings, it would first issue a warning—driving it away before taking its prey.
But this creature had not given even a single warning—it was trampling on its dignity!
Did this thing not know that the Girros's paralytic toxin was also quite dangerous?
Thus, with the resolve to reclaim its pride, the Great Girros called for its underlings as it closed in on Logan.
Until the Great Girros finally saw clearly the monster that had attacked them.
A silver-white giant dragon—a kind of dragon it had never seen before in its life!
Before it could let out a threatening roar, those blue eyes hidden behind a thin membrane shifted slightly, locking onto the Great Girros in an instant.
Immediately, an absolute pressure from the top of the ecological hierarchy swept across its entire body!
In that moment, the Great Girros felt as though it were standing in an endless sea of fire. Its already underdeveloped heart began to race wildly, the parotid glands that had been calling its underlings clamped shut again, and its proudly raised head somehow lowered without it even realizing.
The next second, it turned tail and bolted without hesitation—its movements like a four-legged lizard, seemingly wishing it had another pair of claws to run faster.
As for the Girros it had summoned—ferocious a moment ago, ready to fight to the death for their boss—their bravado collapsed instantly. They didn't understand what had happened, but since their boss had fled, they too realized something was terribly wrong.
In a chaotic scramble, they scattered and vanished without a trace.
Yes—just like a gang of street punks running into someone they shouldn't have messed with.
As for the Girros pack's choice, Logan felt no surprise at all.
After all, these guys and their relatives—the Jagras in the Ancient Forest—are all the sort that bully the weak and fear the strong.
With a leader, they're fine; without one, once team losses exceed one-third, their morale plunges, and once losses pass the halfway mark, the rest only know how to run.
Thus, Logan merely used Pressure on the Great Girros; after forcing the Great Girros back, those Girros it had summoned naturally scattered.
Although with Logan's current strength, wiping out this Girros pack would take no more than one or two breaths, why should he cheapen the other monsters in the Rotten Vale?
The Radobaan doesn't count; it died from losing control while rolling and crashing hard.
With no other monsters to interfere, Logan, a Girros carcass that looked fairly decent clamped in his jaws, spread his wings to a high ledge where the miasma was thinner. After tearing off the not-so-hard scaly shell and steeling himself for the sour stench, he bit down.
Well now—seriously!!
That the Girros can be one of the staple foods of the Rotten Vale—its meat really does have quite a unique quality!
Tender yet springy, a fatty layer that's rich without greasiness, and within it a faint note of fermentation.
After these days in the Elder's Recess eating far too much foul, stringy meat from large monsters laced with plenty of toxins, Logan suddenly biting into something that counted as normal fare actually tasted second only to Mosswine!
Know this: over so many years, Logan has eaten plenty of high-quality ingredients, but no matter how excellent they were, in his heart they just couldn't beat Mosswine—he just has a taste for that, nothing to be done about it!
Therefore, for Girros meat, which likewise counts as monster meat, this appraisal is indeed exceedingly high.
After he finished an entire one and still felt it wasn't enough, intending to have a second, he discovered the other Girros corpses he had just killed had already vanished without a trace.
Oh—no, not quite; there was still one body, but aside from the head it was down to a skeleton, and even the viscera had two beetles gnawing at them.
"I still somewhat underestimated this place's digestion capacity."
Logan sighed inwardly. He had already eaten fast enough, but in just this short while, 4 Girros corpses were gone—this is the Rotten Vale for you!
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