Asterion took the Bazelgeuse brother and headed toward the Ancient Forest, preparing to resume the pursuit of the Dreadking Rathalos. The plan was simple: kill it, then take over its territory.
Hm? What was that? What about the Acidic Glavenus?
The Acidic Glavenus... well, she was quite comfortable. Ahem! She was staying right in Asterion's nest, with no worries about food or safety. She was living the good life.
But it wasn't just about enjoying herself or venting carnal desires. After a hearty and thorough "battle," Asterion had also managed to figure out how she had arrived at the southernmost tip of the Wildspire Waste.
There was no special technique or navigation skill involved. It was purely that after she crawled out of the Rotten Vale to forage, she came across the traces left behind from Asterion's battle with the Seregios. In truth, they were quite easy to recognize. When Asterion consumed rare food sources, he would scoop up a layer of the very earth, blood-stained stones and all, leaving behind a pit filled with tooth marks.
The Acidic Glavenus had seen the traces Asterion left after feeding back in the Rotten Vale. She had simply followed these feeding trails, winding and turning along the way. She had veered off course countless times, forced to backtrack to the last location she saw his marks before choosing a new direction to continue.
She did it all just to prove a point!
The unwillingness to accept defeat, the pride of a Glavenus, and the sense of fulfillment from feeling she had grown stronger—these were the emotions that drove the Acidic Glavenus to cut through thorns and brambles all the way to the southern end of the Wildspire Waste. Only to be... well, chopped up like a melon or a vegetable—in every sense of the word.
How should one put it?
As far as first experiences in a dragon's life go... it was actually pretty good.
Cough!
Anyway! After spending another month or so, Asterion brought the Bazelgeuse brother back to the place where he had fought the great war against the Dreadking Rathalos.
The scorch marks on the battlefield were still distinct, but given the vitality of the Ancient Forest, patches of green moss had already begun to grow, and occasional tender shoots could be seen sprouting from the ashes.
In less than a year, this battlefield would likely be covered by plants and trees once again.
Asterion found the mark he had left behind. With a signal, the Bazelgeuse brother took off directly from the spot. He would begin the search from the sky, his target being a massive tree tall enough to befit the status of a Dreadking Rathalos.
It must be nice to fly... Watching the Bazelgeuse struggle to flap his wings and break through the canopy overhead, Asterion felt a twinge of envy.
For the next evolution, should I prioritize developing proper wings? Maybe optimize the internal exhaust pipes while I'm at it, so I don't risk blowing a gasket every time the fighting gets intense?
Hmm, let's establish a foothold in the Ancient Forest first.
With the Bazelgeuse brother acting as a "hound"—cough, Asterion meant having a dragon that could fly searching from above—things indeed became much simpler.
Walking on the ground, Asterion could occasionally hear the Bazelgeuse's roars from the sky, and he would adjust his direction accordingly. The only problem was that the sky was unobstructed, allowing the Bazelgeuse to fly in a straight line, while Asterion could not.
If he encountered high mountains or cliffs, he had to detour. If a path was blocked by vines or trees, he had to carefully judge whether the passage could support his weight so he wouldn't fall or get stuck halfway through.
Sigh, we land-dwelling dragons have it so hard. It got to the point where the Bazelgeuse occasionally had to circle in the sky, waiting for Asterion's roar indicating he was moving forward again.
Compared to the trouble of traversing the terrain, finding the Dreadking Rathalos's location turned out to be a simple matter—the Bazelgeuse had already found that massive tree.
To be precise, the Dreadking Rathalos had already taken flight from the giant tree. The Bazelgeuse's arrogant posture—roaring the entire way—made no attempt to hide his presence. Given the Dreadking's temper and territorial instincts, he had zero tolerance for this insolent fellow invading his domain.
Even if injured, he would fight! Unless the Dreadking wanted to abandon the territory he had worked so hard to conquer!
"ROAR—HA!!!"
Hearing that familiar roar, Asterion knew the matter was settled.
Everything went exactly as he had predicted. The wound he had left on the Dreadking's hind leg last time had not yet healed. When Asterion arrived at the battlefield, he could see blood dripping from the leg of the Dreadking Rathalos, who was hovering in mid-air, blasting the Bazelgeuse with flame breath.
What followed needed little explanation. When two dragons with the power of an Apex predator cooperated against an enemy, even a Deviant monster like the Dreadking Rathalos stood no chance, especially given his unhealed injuries.
When the Dreadking realized he was no match for these two and that continuing to fight might cost him his life, he tried to flee. But clumsy flyer or not, and despite being unskilled in aerial combat, the Bazelgeuse brother took to the air and entangled the Dreadking right then and there.
With a reckless, bull-like momentum, he slammed his body forcefully into the Dreadking. Even while eating the Dreadking's bites or taking hits from the poisonous tail, he hugged the enemy and plummeted toward the ground.
Amidst a roaring ocean of explosions, Asterion's sword-tail pierced through the shockwaves and heat, striking the Dreadking's neck with precision. Power exerted! The high-speed vibrating saw-blade sliced open the Dreadking's neck, while the blasting scales compressed his internal organs, letting dragon blood spray wildly from the wounds.
The Dreadking Rathalos died. It was not a peaceful death; he was already being carved up and eaten by Asterion and the Bazelgeuse before he had even fully stopped breathing.
Although the brotherhood ceremony with the Bazelgeuse and the Kulu-Ya-Ku had originally been born out of a playful whim—and he occasionally referred to the Bazelgeuse as a pathfinding hound—Asterion did, in fact, genuinely accept these two as brothers.
Before the ceremony, he would have used the Bazelgeuse and then found an opportunity to backstab and kill him, absorbing the special organs that secreted blasting fluid without a shred of honor—just like how he had sold out the Bazelgeuse and ran away after the Teostra fell.
But now, things were different. Asterion would not sell out the Bazelgeuse. Instead, he drank the Dreadking's blood alongside him and then divided the meat fairly into three portions. Well, two large portions and one small one. The small one was really small, reserved for the Kulu-Ya-Ku brother.
He couldn't save more even if he wanted to; who asked the Kulu-Ya-Ku brother to dislike meat?
Asterion had no interest in the Dreadking's special organs; eating this guy was solely to accumulate bio-energy.
The Dreadking Rathalos left nothing behind in this world. Even his hard dragon bones, which the Bazelgeuse couldn't bite through, were eventually sawed into pieces by Asterion and swallowed. The nest he lived in was swept clean, waiting for the Grimalkynes of the Glavenus Tribe to arrive and begin construction.
They could gather spices, cook food, and even clean the nest. The Grimalkynes were quite useful. No matter where he went in the future, Asterion did not intend to let go of these little things that improved the quality of his dragon life.
Leaving the Bazelgeuse brother to guard the giant tree and prevent other monsters from noticing the Dreadking's death and seizing the territory, Asterion prepared to retrace his steps and officially begin the migration of the Glavenus Tribe.
However—
"Roar?" (Why are you still here?)
After trekking over mountains and rivers back to the nest in the Wildspire Waste, Asterion discovered that despite the long passage of time, the Acidic Glavenus had remained there and had not left. He couldn't help but voice his question.
Cough! This wasn't the behavior of a scumbag dragon, but simply the nature of the Glavenus species. Glavenus did not form families to live together like Rathalos and Rathian... honestly, even the Rathalos couple wasn't strictly a pure monogamous pair.
A male Rathalos would mate with multiple female Rathians during the breeding season, but he would ultimately pair up with only the strongest female to raise the egg she produced, co-parenting until the young dragon could hunt independently.
In this process, the females who lost the competition would end up in the Wildspire Waste to lay eggs and raise their young alone. Compared to the normal Rathalos couple, this was a single-parent household—it had a certain "West Coast" vibe to it.
But Glavenus were different.
When two Glavenus caught each other's eye and finished mating, the male would pick up his legs and run. He didn't care about anything else; subsequent matters had nothing to do with him. Even if the male wanted to be involved, the female wouldn't allow it.
Once the reproductive impulse and primal desires were released, cold rationality seemed to return to the brains of Glavenus, dragons known for their high intelligence. The female would not allow a second adult Glavenus in her territory. If the male tried to stay, the result would be a fight with the female, with the loser leaving their severed tail behind as they scurried out of the territory.
In fact, quite a few Glavenus couples did exactly this, and cases of pregnant females being driven out of their territory were not uncommon.
Everyone spoke with strength here; for Glavenus, there was only fairness!
Unlike the Rathalos couple, Glavenus whelps were raised entirely by the mother alone, and she would only care for them for one year. regardless of whether the whelp had learned to hunt or forged its tail blade properly, once the one-year term was up, the mother Glavenus would drive the young Glavenus out of her territory.
Delusional hopes of relying on maternal love to stay were impossible; you'd only get stabbed in the butt by your old mother.
As a Glavenus—Asterion felt that his essence was currently still that of a Glavenus—he knew these habits very well. That was precisely why he was so surprised to find the Acidic Glavenus still here after he had been gone for so long.
Acidic Glavenus were merely a subspecies; they had no fundamental differences from Glavenus, and their habits were the same.
What is going on? Why didn't she go fight for a piece of territory to raise her child? Did she take a fancy to my territory and plan to occupy it after I left?
To be honest, Asterion was prepared to eventually cross blades with a dragon that looked somewhat like his current self in the future; that would be its own kind of fun.
But right now...
Asterion's gaze became sharp. Even though he was preparing to move to the Ancient Forest where the bio-energy was richer, and the Grimalkyne Glavenus Tribe had split, he did not want another dragon shitting and pissing in the nest he once considered home.
Possessiveness!
Did this Acidic Glavenus have a death wish?
This is the Ruthless Blade of Wisdom—the Wisdom Sword cuts the threads of desire!!
Facing Asterion's increasingly unkind gaze, the Acidic Glavenus appeared somewhat nervous—undoubtedly, she knew the universal rules among Glavenus.
Yet, even so, the Acidic Glavenus did not leave, nor did she assume a combat stance. Her slender sword-tail hung low to the ground, constantly scraping against the rock.
"Roar!" (I want to be as strong as you.)
"Roar roar!" (Just like you were before, with the tail glowing. Harder and sharper.)
Tail glowing?
Asterion paused for a moment before realizing what the Acidic Glavenus was talking about: the technique of infusing the tail with bio-energy. Charging the blade.
"Roar roar roar!" (Last time, I only lost because your tail suddenly started glowing! If I could glow too, I could defeat you!)
She was getting more unconvinced the more she spoke, but her fragmented speech allowed Asterion to understand what she wanted to express.
"Roar?" (So, you want to learn how to charge the blade from me?)
"Roar?" (Charge the blade?)
She was puzzled for a moment, but realizing Asterion understood what she wanted to learn, she affirmed it at light speed.
Learn to charge the blade?
Asterion couldn't help but fall into deep thought.
He wasn't afraid that the Acidic Glavenus would learn the technique and then hack him to death or cut off his tail. To put it simply, they weren't even in the same weight class. Even if the Acidic Glavenus truly learned to activate the Red Spirit Blade, Asterion's strength and speed already crushed hers—and this would be even more true after his future evolution.
He was thinking about the inheritance of swordsmanship.
This sword art originated from Hunters. He had listened to the Sword Master explain the essence of swordsmanship dissected by many hunters during their studies. Later, during his battle with the Acidic Glavenus, he combined it with the physiological structure and unique sword-wielding method of the Glavenus species to bring it into existence. It was a sword art exclusive to Glavenus.
The kind that Hunters couldn't use even if they copied it.
Since the Acidic Glavenus was a subspecies within the Glavenus family that specialized in slashing attacks, what changes would occur if she learned this sword art?
Would she push the sword art to new heights? Would it become even more powerful?
Just as Hunters who used the Long Sword would exchange experiences with each other to make their swordsmanship stronger, if the Acidic Glavenus developed a stronger sword art, wouldn't he be able to learn it as well?
"Roar!" (Alright, I will teach you.)
With this in mind, Asterion agreed directly.
"Roar roar." (But I won't teach you for free. You have to pay a price.)
"Roar!" (I can %¥#@%# with you.)
The Acidic Glavenus uttered a string of words that would be automatically silenced. Those who know, know.
"Roar roar!" (No need. I want you to protect these Grimalkynes and safely migrate them to my new home.)
A female dragon wasn't going to tie Asterion down. Besides, if they really did it, who knows who would be rewarding whom?
This little female dragon sure has a vivid imagination!
With a cold snort, Asterion directly explained what she should and shouldn't do—for example, not accidentally hurting the Grimalkynes, and what she should do if the old Shaman came looking for her.
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