Looking out, one could see many furry creatures, about a meter tall, walking to and fro. Some held weapons made of stone or bone, some wore crude armor fashioned from wood scraps, and others were trailed by a string of kittens, tackling them to the ground in playful wrestling matches.
Their bodies were covered in black fur, with white stripes appearing only on their chests, bellies, shoulders, and paws. amidst the white fur on their bellies, there was a red paw-print pattern. To be precise, every one of these furry creatures looked like a cat that walked upright.
Grimalkynes. If Asterion were to see these little things, he would recognize what these cute little guys were at a glance.
They were the native Lynian tribe living in the New World, and the Grimalkyne tribe of the Wildspire Waste called themselves the Protectors.
"Big trouble, meow!!"
A Grimalkyne warrior returning from the outside didn't even pause to pet his own little furballs. Instead, he ran on all fours straight toward the Chief, who was sitting by the campfire, and shouted.
(Given that in Monster Hunter Wilds, the Felynes of the Forbidden Lands have started speaking human language directly, and the lore establishes that Lynians have their own culture and language, I won't have them meowing back and forth with parenthetical translations anymore.)
"Don't be so flustered, meow, Sparky," the Grimalkyne Chief, whose whiskers were very long, turned his head and said. "With you acting like this, how can I rest assured handing the tribe over to you, meow?"
"Yes! Sparky knows he was wrong, meow!" The young Grimalkyne warrior immediately straightened his feline back, trying to make himself look more serious. "How about now, meow?"
"Very good, that's more like it, meow," the Grimalkyne Chief stroked his whiskers with satisfaction. "As the most excellent warrior in the tribe, you are the next Chief, meow. So no matter what happens, you must remain calm, otherwise, everyone else will panic too, meow."
"I understand, meow!"
"Mhm-mhm, so what were you trying to say just now, meow?"
"It's like this, Chief," Sparky said with a serious cat face. "That giant monster is about to eat its way into our tribal grounds, meow! At the latest, by the day after tomorrow, if you stick your head out from here, you'll probably be able to see it, meow!"
"What?!!" The Grimalkyne Chief, who had been smiling peacefully just a moment ago, suddenly launched his entire feline body up from the campfire side. "Th-th-this—this is a huge bad event, meow!!!"
"Eh? Didn't you say to remain calm, meow?" Looking at the old Chief who had jumped three feet in the air, Sparky asked with a confused look.
"You idiot, meow! Is this the time to care about such small details, meow?!" A cane smacked onto Sparky's head. The Grimalkyne Chief hurriedly circled left and right on the ground. "You should have said such urgent news the moment we met, meow! We can't waste time, meow!!"
Sparky: "...."
Fine, fine, you have more whiskers, I don't dare speak.
Dare to be angry but dare not speak, meow!
"...Let me think about what to do, let me think, meow... Do we have to move, meow? We finally found such a good place..."
The Grimalkyne Chief began to pace in circles around the campfire. This matter of life and death did not allow him to stay calm.
In truth, many tribes of the Protectors lived in the underground world of the Wildspire Waste. Over years of life and exploration, they each occupied a specific territory, making a living by hunting small creatures, catching fish in the underground rivers, and gathering plants and mushrooms.
Such food sources meant that the population each area could support was limited. Moving rashly now—leaving aside whether another area could support so many people—the number of tribe members who might be sacrificed during the migration process alone was an unknown variable.
The surface of the Wildspire Waste was riddled with danger, and the underground world wasn't exactly a peaceful, friendly place either.
Even though the Grimalkynes moved collectively when hunting or fighting, setting traps, gang-beating enemies, and even defeating some small wyverns, they themselves did not possess high combat strength. The weapons they used were also very ordinary, mostly spears made of branches, stones, and bones.
Different Grimalkyne tribes had different hunting styles. For instance, the Protectors used shields, but the truth remained—their combat power was not strong.
Put it this way: even the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers coming over could peck the Grimalkynes into a chaotic frenzy. Don't look at how the Kulu-Ya-Ku acted like a little brother around Asterion, seemingly someone anyone could kick around; Kulu-Ya-Ku could generally grow to over three meters tall and nine meters long. Compare that to the Grimalkynes, who averaged one meter tall... those who understand, understand.
And small wyverns like the Kulu-Ya-Ku were the largest monsters the Grimalkynes could defeat even after pouring out the entire tribe's strength. To the Grimalkynes, a creature of Asterion's size was no different than an ordinary human seeing Godzilla.
They were the type that could crush you to death with a single step; not even the desire to fight would rise up. Digging a hole to escape was the first choice.
And now, these two guys had gotten together...
"Sure enough, we still have to move, meow!"
After circling the bonfire three times to the left and three times to the right, the Grimalkyne Chief made a startling declaration with his startling wisdom.
Relying on the power of one cat alone, this Grimalkyne Chief had successfully incited tension among the Grimalkynes currently remaining in the tribal grounds.
"R-Really, do we really have to move, meow?! Meow just finished building a new nest, meow!"
"Where are we moving to, meow? Outside is so dangerous, meow!"
"Why did it turn out like this, meow? We explicitly gathered so much food for the first time, able to hide safely at home and roast by the fire for a long time, meow. Two happy things overlapped, bringing meow even more happiness. It should have been a time as blissful as a dream, meow... But, why, why did it turn out like this, meow..."
"No, meow...."
"...."
For a moment, the Grimalkyne grounds were filled with all sorts of mournful cries.
As long as a species has developed civilization and culture, they will always be full of sentiment for the land they have lived on for a long time. This Grimalkyne tribe had lived here for hundreds of years; their ancestors were born, grew up, and died here.
They were familiar with everything here, whether it was every nearby cave abundant with mushrooms, every underground river pool where large fish appeared, or the slopes where the little furballs could play safely...
The memorial bones of massive prey bravely hunted by the ancestor Grimalkynes still decorated the cave walls, and generations of Grimalkynes had recorded their history on the walls in the form of murals... There were too many good things accumulated here that they couldn't bear to leave behind, and couldn't move.
As long as they could stay, no one would like the feeling of leaving their homeland.
Lynians are people too; to whom could they tell the pain in their hearts?
"E-Everyone, don't be sad just yet, meow! Things might still take a turn for the better, meow!" Seeing his tribesmen crying, Sparky hurriedly comforted them.
"Hmm? What do you mean, meow?" The old Chief stroked his whiskers and said, "Does that mean the giant monster is leaving, meow?"
"That's not it, meow," Sparky scratched his head and said. "Haven't we been following that giant monster for many days, meow? It has indeed built a nest near the illuminated cave... Um, meow wants to say that along with the giant monster, there is another wyvern! It's that bad guy who steals eggs, meow!"
"That guy, huh..." The old Chief understood who Sparky was talking about. "Why are they together, meow?"
"Don't know, meow," Sparky shook his head. "But meow saw the Egg Thief give stolen eggs to the giant monster, meow! Several times! The giant monster didn't attack the Egg Thief, meow!"
According to the experience passed down through generations of the Grimalkyne tribe, this kind of thing was extremely abnormal. The Egg Thief was just a small wyvern, but the giant monster, according to their classification, was a massive wyvern. Giant wyverns and small wyverns basically never acted together; in fact, many giant wyverns viewed small wyverns as food to be hunted.
"There is actually such a thing, meow?!" The old Chief opened his eyes wide in surprise. "You mean—?!"
"That's right, meow!" Sparky nodded his head vigorously. "We can steal eggs too, meow! We can also give eggs to the giant monster, meow! And we have more meows! We steal faster, and more, meow!! The giant monster will definitely be very happy, meow!!"
"What you said—makes sense, meow!" The old Chief clapped his paws, patting Sparky's shoulder with a look of relief. "In that case, let us old geezers go, meow!"
"Eh?!" Sparky's cat eyes stared wide and bright. "How can that be allowed, meow! Chief! You should let us fast-running meows go, meow!"
"You idiot! I told you to stay calm when facing trouble, meow! Don't yell and shout, meow!" A cane smacked onto Sparky's head again. Looking at Sparky, who was covering his head with swirls appearing in his eyes, the old Chief coughed and said seriously, "From now on, Sparky is the new Chief, meow! Everyone has to listen to him in the future, meow!"
"How can this be?!" Sparky couldn't even care about meowing anymore; his mouth hung wide open.
"What's wrong with that, meow?" The old Chief hugged him with a gratified look. "You were originally the strongest meow in the tribe, and now that you can think of a solution when encountering danger, you are already a qualified Chief, meow! You must continue to work hard in the future, meow!"
"B-But—then what about you, Chief, meow?" Sparky still refused to give up. "Since Sparky is already the Chief, meow, you have to listen to Sparky too, meow!"
He could understand why the old Chief wanted to personally go and offer this egg, and why he specifically passed the position of Chief to him before leaving.
Unlike the past situations of hiding in the dark to observe and fleeing directly upon danger, going this time meant they had to expose themselves and risk communicating with a large monster—one slip-up and they would die in the monster's mouth.
Sparky was moved to tears.
"Idiot, meow! Not this time, meow!!" Another cane hit Sparky's cat head. The old Chief said grumpily, "You have your mission too, meow! Don't forget the things meow taught you before... Now hurry up and help us steal some eggs back, meow! We have to be waiting there before the giant monster leaves its nest tomorrow, meow."
Under the old Chief's persistence, the new Chief, Sparky, couldn't win against him in the end. He could only lead the Grimalkyne hunting party to steal a few eggs from the Kestodon.
Well, in a sense, it couldn't really be called stealing. The Protectors of the Waste had mastered a method of domesticating Kestodon. They could use Kestodon as tools to transport supplies and could even ride them into battle to a certain extent... though the combat power was extremely poor.
After all, Kestodon were a type of herbivorous wyvern, and Herbivores, well, those who understand, understand.
When the Grimalkyne tribe was in a disastrous year lacking supplies, Kestodon eggs would also become one of their food sources.
It was a panicked night. Even the most ignorant little furballs in the tribe could sense that something was wrong; the big meows were all very nervous and looked very sad.
They didn't even have the mood to celebrate the birth of the new Chief. Many Grimalkynes sat blankly on the ground, staring at the crackling campfire in a daze, not even knowing when they fell asleep.
Before dawn the next day, the old Chief took a few old brothers and stood at the cave entrance. Each cat carried a Kestodon egg on their back. Don't look at how old they were; their movements were still quite agile.
"Chief, meow!" Sparky personally tied the egg on the old Chief's back more securely. His tears and snot were practically plastering his fur together as he choked out, "Maybe meow should go instead."
"Idiot! No crying!" Hitting Sparky's head once more, the old Chief grinned. "A Chief must have the dignity of a Chief, meow! Hurry up and wipe it clean!"
"But—"
"No buts, meow! Let's go!"
Decisive in character, the old Chief dropped directly into the underground cave with a rope descent. Although there was no sunlight here, the visibility wasn't actually bad. They didn't even need to light torches; the luminous moss growing on the ceiling and in the cracks of the rocks on both sides illuminated the surroundings.
Advancing all the way along the route they had scouted long ago, when this Grimalkyne squad arrived at the entrance of Asterion's lair, Asterion hadn't even woken up yet.
Carefully, carefully inching inward from the edge of the cave entrance—inching bit by bit, as if inching too much at once would cause their cat heads to fall off. The old Chief hadn't been this nervous in a long time.
The intelligence regarding the giant monster had all been brought back by the Grimalkyne hunting party; that was the hunting party's responsibility. Therefore, this was the first time the old Chief had seen with his own eyes what the "giant monster" Sparky spoke of actually looked like.
Huge, ferocious, missing pieces here and there on its body, a bald tail, a huge mouth, capable of eating both dirt and ore, and eating very fast—honestly, when these elements were gathered together, the old Chief had flipped through the tribe's mural records for a long time but never found exactly what kind of strange wyvern this was.
But now...
Immediately twisting his head around, the old Chief looked back in the direction behind him, wanting nothing more than to catch Sparky at top speed and spank his butt fiercely.
This idiot meow who didn't listen properly to the tribe's legacy stories!!
What "giant strange monster" is this? This is clearly a Glavenus! The only reason the tail looks bald right now is just that the blade there is broken!
"Chief?" Still worried, Sparky, who had followed all the way from behind, saw the old Chief turn back and leaned in, whispering, "Should we forget about it, meow?"
Sparky, you have a death wish!
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