Herbivores—these are a type of herbivorous wyvern widely found in both the Old World and the New World.
The herbivorous wyverians living in the Ancient Forest have a hard, turtle-like shell on their backs, earning them the name Aptonoth. They belong to the shell-covered herbivore category.
Though they're fellow plant-eaters, Aptonoth occupy a far lower position in the Ancient Forest's food chain than Diablos—they're at the very bottom.
It sounds like anyone passing by could bully them a bit, but Asterion knew the truth was far from that.
At the very least, for a young dragon without parental protection, taking down a lone Aptonoth from a herd in motion was anything but simple.
Tell a joke—everyone knows about Deviljho, right?
This wyvern, a plague god to both hunters and other dragons alike, naturally has no parental affection for its offspring. It's the type that gives birth and walks away.
But when a Deviljho hatchling is spotted, forget the usual aggressive large wyverians—even passing herbivores will kill them without hesitation. And they absolutely have the capability.
Just look at an Aptonoth's build: a back shell with defense strong enough to withstand a Rathian's breath and diving claw strikes. Asterion once personally witnessed a Rathian attempting to prey on a group of Aptonoth that had huddled together with their shells facing outward, completely helpless.
In the end, the Rathian that failed to seize the first opportunity spat fire, found it useless, and could only fly away in frustration.
An Aptonoth's tail is especially thick and developed, ending in a spike like a morning star mace. Asterion could hardly imagine what it would be like if he were surrounded by a group of Aptonoth and greeted with those things.
He'd turn into Fatalis paste, right?
Even herbivores can kill dragons!
As a former lore-obsessed veteran hunter, Asterion had memorized this ecological data long ago. Now, it had successfully become a vital reference for surviving in this world that was both familiar and strange.
But it could only serve as a reference.
Craving fresh meat, Asterion had been lurking in this swamp for a full day. His target was a small Aptonoth family—few in number, just four adults and two juveniles.
As for those large herds of a dozen or even dozens of Aptonoth clustered together, Asterion avoided them outright. He had no desire to be the lion gored through the belly by buffalo horns.
If conditions allowed, Asterion wanted to hunt an adult Aptonoth. But if not, killing a juvenile was no shame.
Getting meat was what mattered most.
This was one of the two areas in the Ancient Forest least like a wasteland. A small river flowed down from higher ground, cascading off a not-too-tall stone cliff before spreading out into an exceptionally vast swamp—at least far larger than the area in Asterion's game memories, and the terrain didn't match either.
That was normal, though. After all, a casual visit from a large monster to hunt or fight could easily alter the landscape here. Extra pits or piled-up earth and stone were perfectly ordinary.
The swamp grew many aquatic plants, but the prettiest were a type resembling lavender in color and shape—elegant and warm purple. Their presence softened the desolate feel of the protruding rocks on either side.
But this place was exceptionally dangerous.
The Ancient Forest as a whole lacked water resources, meaning this swamp and the small river flowing through it supplied drinking water for nearly half the wyverians in the Ancient Forest. They could appear here at any time.
This wasn't good news for Asterion. Though he wasn't a Deviljho hatchling, those high-echelon large wyverians would instinctively and with simple intelligence try to kill him on sight if they saw him.
After all, one less competitor was one less. They didn't want a potential threat to grow up.
Splash!
A sudden sound of water being parted came from afar, snapping Asterion to attention. Even his scattered thoughts from the long wait sharpened.
Peering closely, Asterion saw a group of Aptonoth wading through the swamp—four adults, two young. No doubt his long-awaited target.
The sun was about to set. From Asterion's observations, this Aptonoth family reliably came to the flower-field swamp area to drink at this time.
Perhaps because they'd learned this timing was safe, they stayed vigilant but relaxed considerably during the process. Over the past couple of days of watching, they'd even shown behavior like playfully splashing each other.
Especially the two little Aptonoth.
Asterion held his breath. He'd dug a pit beforehand and half-buried himself in the swamp, letting the purple flowers and plants conceal him as much as possible, leaving only a small portion of his head subtly exposed to watch.
This was knowledge he'd picked up in his previous life watching Animal Planet.
The Glavenus's powerful body let him hold his breath for minutes without training. The mud caked all over him perfectly masked the scent unique to a high-echelon species—though the only issue was that this behavior might be a bit embarrassing for a Glavenus. If other Glavenus saw, they might disown him.
Probably.
But who cared? If it worked, it worked.
Splash, splash—the water sounds grew closer. One curious young Aptonoth chased butterflies dancing among the flower clusters, unknowingly straying a bit far from its parents.
"Growl..."
That was an adult Aptonoth's call, urging its child to return quickly. The little Aptonoth received the signal, stopped watching the butterflies, and turned back toward its parents.
This was the moment Asterion had been waiting for.
Thud...
The sound of powerful legs stomping the swamp bottom. Asterion, hidden in the mud, leaped into the air!
Splash!!
The mud and water he brought up formed a sky-obscuring curtain over the little Aptonoth. It screeched in terror—and that became the last sound it ever made in life.
Crunch.
Beast wyverian—or rather, a Glavenus, nicknamed the "Bite Dragon"—even at Asterion's current age, his bite force easily snapped the little Aptonoth's neck.
And then—run!!
The Ancient Forest was full of dangers. Fight, grab, get out.
Like Flash in the pan, a mature hunter never lingers even a second out of greed—slight avarice could invite death.
Asterion knew this well. So after biting the little Aptonoth to death, he didn't even glance at the adult Aptonoth before clamping the corpse in his jaws and bolting in the opposite direction. He even deliberately swung his tail to drag the prey, preventing it from tripping him while fleeing.
Dead legs! Run fast!!
Continuous, heavy footsteps splashed up a trail of water in the swamp. But unlike stealing eggs from a Kestodon, after dashing over two hundred meters, Asterion heard no frantic pursuing steps or angry Aptonoth roars.
When he finally stopped and looked back, he was shocked to find the Aptonoth hadn't chased. They mourned while protectively circling their last remaining young and fled hastily back the way they came.
Completely different from Asterion's initial expectations. All his preparations went unused.
His long-awaited and carefully planned first hunt was far easier than imagined. Perhaps due to his former human soul and wisdom in planning, or maybe the Glavenus's naturally powerful body—but it left Asterion with a sense of unreality, even a faint disappointment.
But thinking carefully, it made sense. After all, a Glavenus wasn't some bastard like Deviljho. A Glavenus hatchling wasn't worth herbivores risking their lives to kill.
For survival's sake, fleeing with their remaining young was perfectly normal.
"Ah-woo!"
Biting into the little Aptonoth's soft belly, Asterion swallowed the precious meat with satisfaction, along with the fresh, warm dragon blood. He could feel his body finally getting what it craved. The sensation was utterly intoxicating for a dragon.
Gotta eat meat!
Meat every meal!!
He didn't even have time to drag the prey back to the shelter he shared with his Kestodon brothers—carrying a still-bleeding carcass across the Ancient Forest was tantamount to issuing a challenge. Asterion eagerly found a dry stone platform and started devouring it right there.
He planned to eat fast and bolt.
The flavor was fragrant, similar to the roast suckling pig he remembered, just not as crispy. But honestly, Asterion wasn't sure how much his current senses differed from his human ones—after all, they were now uniquely Glavenus senses, not human.
No joke: according to settings he remembered, a Glavenus's stomach was lined with a heat-resistant crystal layer capable of withstanding over 1,500 degrees Celsius. Human stomachs couldn't do that.
Plus, a Glavenus's sense of smell and taste differed from humans, so something he found delicious now might have made his human self vomit on the spot.
To be fair, based on his post-hatching experience eating dirt for minerals, Asterion thought those ores were pretty tasty—crisp, delicious, with a unique aroma.
But judging mineral flavors by human tastes... let's not go there.
Some things are like going downhill—sliding to the bottom happens impossibly fast.
After living in this world as a Glavenus for about a month, Asterion occasionally realized with surprise that he adapted better to thinking from a dragon's perspective than a human's.
Of course, this didn't mean he'd lost his human wisdom or rationality. It was a shift in identity and cognition—
—That wisdom now served only to make his dragon life better.
Whether hunting, shelter, or a dragon's instincts and physiological preferences—many things his human self couldn't tolerate were no big deal to him now.
Survival first.
Soul and mind are ultimately based on the physical body and deeply influenced by it.
Swallowing the warm, nutritious organs, Asterion sank into the joy of his first meat meal——this joy was something other Glavenus babies enjoyed from their mother right after hatching, yet he'd waited this long and had to hunt it himself.
Saying it out loud would make dragons tear up.
Bluntly: his body craved this.
Killing instinct!
Buzz~
Suddenly, Asterion felt his bones vibrate slightly—a profound, mystical sensation, no illusion. His red eyes turned to the water beside the stone. Near the aquatic plant stems, ripples spread in circles, intertwining rapidly.
Wrong!
No need to think or confirm— the instant instinct detected something off, Asterion trusted it unconditionally!
Abandoning his half-eaten meal, he kicked off with both legs and leaped from the giant stone he'd been perched on—BOOM!!!
Before he even landed, Asterion twisted mid-air to look back. In a massive explosion, he saw the stone large enough for him to stand and eat on get blasted upward from below!!
Mud splattering in all directions even caught up to him in the air, streaking radially across his shell in clumps.
But compared to the monster that had suddenly burst from the swamp bottom, a little mess was nothing.
Plesioth.
Knowledge in his mind instantly identified the dragon that had ruined his dinner spot.
Honestly, from the scattered ant mounds of various sizes across the Ancient Forest and certain characteristic wyverians, Asterion had mentally prepared himself when he recognized this world and location. As long as he aimed to grow, he'd eventually encounter every monster from the games in his past life.
Even including wyverians not in the games but possibly in this real-world region—after all, reality wasn't a game. A true ecosystem's species couldn't be fully represented in one game.
Not to mention Capcom loved doling out content like toothpaste, taking forever to release anything substantial.
The Elder Crossing phenomenon attracted not just hunters. Arriving in the New World from the Old World weren't only Elder Dragons—some bold Old World wyverians followed behind, hitching a ride to the New World.
Otherwise, why would Asterion say the Ancient Forest's life was overly vibrant?