While both the Bazelgeuse and the Seregios were fully absorbed in their own battle, the two Fire Wyverns climbed higher still. Aki began gathering every last bit of combustible material remaining in her flame sac.
After building up her charge, Aki suddenly unleashed a stream of orange-red breath laced with faint specks of violet, pouring it all onto Logan.
"Hiss~"
Aki's flames couldn't match a Flame Rathalos in raw ferocity or destructive power, but once charged, that faint violet fire searing into Logan's wounds still sent a stabbing pain through him like needles piercing his hide.
There was no helping it—without scales and inner skin to shield him, even Logan's fire resistance couldn't keep pain at bay under such an intense stimulus.
Aki's flames were continuously drawn into him by his Flash Fire trait, rapidly replenishing the fire-element energy he'd expended. At the same time, the temperature of his flames climbed higher and higher.
Soon, the fire swirling around him began to take on a blue-violet hue. Logan became a blazing sphere in the sky, burning like a second sun, the surrounding air growing hotter by the moment.
Only the Seregios and Bazelgeuse locked in battle below seemed unaware.
The Bazelgeuse's own scales already burned at extreme temperatures, so its sensitivity to gradual environmental heat changes at a distance was naturally low.
At this stage, for reasons unknown, the Bazelgeuse hadn't chosen to enter its Heated State, continuing instead to fight in its normal form, calmly and methodically handling the Seregios' attacks.
Perhaps it was a matter of matchup—the Bazelgeuse's relentless showers of scales not only neutralized the Seregios' ranged strikes with ease, but the hot, explosive turbulence they produced also disrupted the Seregios' flight.
Masters of using air currents, the Seregios instinctively relied on them to perform their wide array of astonishing combat maneuvers. If there were no currents, they would create their own—but against the Bazelgeuse, the airflow had become utterly chaotic. Its overwhelming, unreasonable bombardments had turned the surrounding area into a zone of wild turbulence.
The Seregios leader was faring better—the Frenzied state's boost allowed it to maintain considerable combat power even in the maelstrom. But unlike in its fight with Logan, while its blade-scales could pierce the Bazelgeuse's armor, they only managed to break through the outermost layer of explosive scales.
After that, their effectiveness dropped sharply, and with the Bazelgeuse's rapid scale regeneration, the damage was hardly a concern.
And so, under these conditions, the two sides ended up locked in a strange stalemate.
High above, Aki ceased her breath attack—she'd been exhaling for too long and was starting to run out of air.
By now, Logan's flames had risen to a tremendous level, yet still hadn't reached the point of breaking past his limit.
He spread his wings wide, the fire along them extending outward as if his wings had suddenly doubled in span.
"Roar?" (Can you give me a little more?)
His meaning was clear. Aki panted heavily, then clenched her teeth and drew in a deep breath.
She had seen Logan in that stance before—back within the subterranean leyline stream, where those dazzling silver scales had captured her gaze.
If that Flame Rathalos could achieve it, then so could she.
Squeezing every last bit from her flame sac, she unleashed another torrent of breath.
Time passed, and gradually, all four wyverns locked in battle below began to sense something was wrong.
It was winter—and yet now it felt as though they stood in the height of summer.
The clouds, which had begun to gather again, were suddenly torn open as a shaft of light broke through.
The gap widened, and a silver-white sun descended slowly through it, radiating boundless brilliance like a deity from the heavens pouring purifying light upon a sullied mortal realm.
[Sunshine (Pseudo); 6:59]
Yes—only seven minutes. Under normal circumstances, with Logan's current strength, it should have been eleven.
Unfortunately, in the earlier battles, Aki had spent too much stamina and flame reserves. Even with the constant strain of forcing out more, it had taken longer and still hadn't pushed Logan's Flash Fire to its limit.
Fortunately, Aki's flames carried those faint violet embers—signs of her own metamorphosis—an energy of a higher tier. It was precisely that higher-tier fire energy that allowed Logan, even without Flash Fire reaching its peak, to break through into this state.
"Seven minutes… more than enough."
Logan knew exactly what kind of power he now held. Without exaggeration, unless that Bazelgeuse shifted its focus to him and entered its Heated State to fight desperately, these seven minutes would be more than sufficient.
And knowing the Bazelgeuse's nature, there was no way it would choose to engage a Silver Fire Wyvern without any gain to be had.
As expected, the moment the Bazelgeuse laid eyes on Logan in his Silver Rathalos form, its pupils shrank within those small eyes hidden beneath its rough, armored scales.
"Damn, woke up to this?! A Silver Rathalos in the Wildspire Waste?!"
And not just any Silver Rathalos—this one was entirely wreathed in Calamity Flame, its massive wings trailing fire that extended far beyond their edges.
The temperature spiked sharply. Under the effects of Sunlight, the three Seregios were the first to feel the discomfort.
Then, without the slightest hesitation, the Bazelgeuse burst forward in a sprint, took to the air, and left without looking back.
It had only come to stir up trouble and vent its restless energy—maybe, if luck allowed, kill one or two of the combatants and taste the flesh of these three unfamiliar Flying Wyverns.
But now, with an abnormal Silver Rathalos appearing here—and clearly showing interest in the battle—
Only a fool of a Bazelgeuse would choose to fight a Silver Rathalos.
Whether it could even win was beside the point; this was a guaranteed losing deal. Aside from risking its life just to get beaten senseless, what could it possibly gain?
Nature displayed its cruelty in full force.
The Bazelgeuse's decisive retreat unsettled the Seregios. They wanted to flee too, but from the moment the Silver Rathalos appeared, its gaze had locked on them. Turning their backs to a powerful foe without thinking was the fastest way to get themselves killed.
Flames cut through the air with a deep, rumbling roar.
The rising thermal currents in the area made the three Seregios feel short of breath, as if what they faced wasn't a Silver Rathalos at all, but some unknown Elder Dragon wearing a Silver Rathalos' skin.
They wanted to run, but Logan—racing against time—wouldn't give them the chance.
Though only his flames had reached the level of a Silver Rathalos, with no major boost to speed or physical strength, the frenzied, tempered Seregios at this range still had a chance to escape.
The other two tempered Seregios, however, did not.
Logan's focus shifted instantly to those two, and he lunged at them.
In the next moment, the leader Seregios—already twisting its body and having flown a short distance away—suddenly wheeled around and, without hesitation, charged toward the tempered Seregios Logan had targeted.
"As I thought!"
Unlike Rathalos, Seregios had little sense of family, but their sense of pack was easily among the top three of all Flying Wyverns.
Their societal hierarchy was strict, and with it came a strong sense of responsibility.
The Seregios had only been in the New World for a few years. Of their kind here, only these three had already reached a critical threshold in strength. They had come to the New World seeking a breakthrough, and quickly evolved into tempered Seregios. The rest of their kind, aside from adapting to the land, had shown no other changes.
In such circumstances, the loss of even a single tempered Seregios would be a devastating blow to their entire population in the New World.
And so, no matter how unwilling it was, no matter how much its mind had been clouded by frenzy, it still chose to aid its kin.
Although its actions aligned with Logan's intentions, in the face of this Silver Rathalos form, did it truly have the right to offer such aid?
In an almost perfect repeat, Logan spun to evade the Seregios leader's claw strike. His broad wings swept out mid-turn, spines clashing once again against bladed horns.
In terms of raw strength, Logan hadn't changed much—but the heat radiating from the Calamity Flame wreathed around him was on an entirely different level.
A Seregios' scales were somewhat like light metal—hard and razor-sharp, yet also excellent conductors of heat.
Even with its sense of pain drastically dulled by frenzy, the intense heat of Logan's Calamity Flame could soften its bladed horns, and through them, conduct straight into its skull.
In that instant, the Seregios leader felt an oppressive, searing heat engulf its head, as if it had been shoved into a steaming chamber, and its consciousness blinked out for a moment.
Its head jerked violently to the side, and the softened horn—unable to withstand the force—snapped with a sharp crack, right before the disbelieving eyes of the other two tempered Seregios.
They hastily flung their bladed scales in an attempt to stop Logan's next move.
But right now, Logan had no intention of dodging such an attack. The scales struck his Calamity Flame-clad armor, leaving only shallow white marks before bouncing away.
At this level, it wasn't even worth calling a scratch.
His talons clamped onto the unconscious Seregios leader's tail, hauling its falling body back into the air. The frenzy-induced black miasma along the tail tried to corrode Logan's claws, but under the unending pressure of his Calamity Flame, the black mist was suppressed instead.
With a sweep of his wings and a sharp lift of his talons, a charged fireball built in his throat, ready to be unleashed at near point-blank range into the leader's airborne body.
At that moment, the surrounding tempered Seregios, unable to reach in time to rescue, could only hurl itself recklessly into Logan.
The impact twisted Logan's head just enough that the fireball grazed past the leader, instead scorching its wingclaw. Almost instantly, the wingclaw suffered severe burns, the sharp tip charring to black.
The injury made the just-awakened leader's wing go numb, and then the pain struck.
A dulled sense of pain didn't mean the sensation was gone entirely—when damage reached a certain threshold, pain still came, just not as sharply.
Then, the tempered Seregios that had diverted Logan's attack suddenly cried out. The part of its body that had struck Logan now burned with blue-violet Calamity Flame, the heat coursing through its bladed scales and into its flesh.
This was one of the terrors of Logan's current state.
Against Elder Dragons or other rare species of similar tier, Calamity Flame's damage might not be overwhelming—but for ordinary monsters, the burn alone was enough to bring them to their knees.
In a way, calling Logan at this moment an Elder Dragon wearing a Silver Rathalos' skin wasn't wrong—at least now, just like an Elder Dragon, swarming him with numbers would do little good.
Don't forget—his combustible liquid could be hurled out like a barrage of Fire Meteors, covering a vast area of the battlefield.
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