It sounded high-end, and there weren't many monsters capable of threatening a Glavenus's life, but that was all there was to it.
For an ordinary Glavenus, achieving the status of a regional apex predator would be a source of immense accomplishment. However, for Asterion, this achievement meant nothing.
So what if he became the strongest Glavenus? So what if he was already one of the top apex predators in the ecological chain of the Wildspire Waste?
In the end, he was still just an ordinary wyvern.
The abilities of ordinary wyverns had limits. Asterion had learned one thing from his brief life as a dragon: the more one relied on brute physical force, the more one discovered that the capabilities of ordinary wyverns were finite—unless one transcended the state of being an ordinary wyvern.
The only thing that allowed a dragon to detach itself from the standard ecological chain was a unique and powerful special ability. Storms, flames, effluvium, viruses... Elder Dragons mostly symbolized an aspect of nature itself. Yet, if one stripped away that Elder Dragon power and discussed only physical strength, Elder Dragons and some large ordinary wyverns actually didn't differ all that much.
At most, they were a bit stronger or had more stamina. If they didn't use their Elder Dragon powers and relied solely on physical might, an ordinary wyvern still couldn't win a prolonged battle. However, in a short skirmish, some ordinary wyverns could definitely arm-wrestle with an Elder Dragon—or even defeat one.
Even when special abilities were brought into play, it wasn't unheard of for ordinary wyverns with combat power rivaling low-tier Elder Dragons to exist.
This was intelligence Asterion had confirmed through his own personal experience. Under these circumstances, no matter how many ordinary wyverns he ate, he could not breach the boundary between an ordinary wyvern and an Elder Dragon.
Because, fundamentally, what he was eating were ordinary materials. If evolution were compared to building a spaceship capable of withstanding attacks and flying into the heavens, you simply couldn't build one successfully using scrap copper and rusty iron... Asterion wasn't a Greenskin, nor did he possess the power of "belief making it reality."
To surpass ordinary wyverns, he had to consume food of higher quality—the flesh and blood of Elder Dragons, the organs of Elder Dragons, the gems of Elder Dragons.
And this was precisely where Asterion's trouble lay. His stomach was as capable as ever—anything he ate could be digested—but his physical body had reached its limit. The limit of a Glavenus.
If he continued to accumulate power, he could indeed grow further. Perhaps one day in the future, he could be called an Arch-Tempered Glavenus, but that growth would be excruciatingly slow.
Asterion had already summarized the special ability he possessed after transmigration: he could selectively evolve characteristics possessed by his prey through eating. However, evolving new features consumed a massive amount of life energy. The greater the change to his physical body, and the more powerful the feature he wanted to evolve, the more life energy was required.
Aside from that, when his body still had plenty of room for growth, Asterion could reach his physical peak in the shortest time possible by eating, provided there was sufficient life energy. To use a metaphor: it was as if he had just broken through to the Foundation Establishment stage, and could immediately power-level to the perfection of the Foundation Establishment stage, beginning preparations for the Golden Core stage.
Translated to this world, Asterion had reached the "Great Completion" of an ordinary wyvern and was starting to prepare for his ascension to the Elder Dragon stage.
Since he couldn't seek a breakthrough in the direction of "Force" (represented by the body) in the short term, Asterion planned to start working in the direction of "Technique."
If two adults of similar build dueled with equally sharp swords, but one relied on brute force to swing wildly while the other had undergone systematic training and mastered techniques that could be called swordsmanship, the latter would undoubtedly be the victor.
Asterion prepared to steal some techniques—shamelessly.
"Is everyone here? Then let's summarize our respective intelligence."
The Star—or accurately speaking, the location that was once the prow of the ship known as The Star. The leaders of the exploration team were gathered here, surrounding a small table behind which hung their commission banner.
"Let's start with me," said a burly man with his arms crossed over his chest. As the Leader—who looked suspiciously like a Rajang, cough!—he stared at the map on the table and said, "It was definitely a Kushala Daora. We salvaged Kushala Daora scales from the edge of the coastal waters and on the shore itself. Unfortunately, they had mostly turned into decayed dragon scales and are currently unusable."
Kushala Daora scales were relatively easy to obtain as far as Elder Dragon materials went, but they required special processing. Otherwise, they would degrade into decayed dragon scales, useless for forging equipment or collecting. Only by mixing them with Life Powder and Nutrients could they be revived as proper Kushala Daora scales, emitting that silvery-white glow once more.
"It's not just decayed dragon scales; there are also Rusted Scales from a Rusted Kushala Daora. They are completely unusable as materials," the Chief Technician added. "What's a bit strange is that we haven't found many steel scales inside the Waste itself. All the scales turned in so far were salvaged from the sea."
"The hunters we sent out have redrawn the map. Several mountain peaks used as landmarks have been destroyed. A lake has appeared in the rocky terrain near the swamp zone, though we predict it will disappear completely in less than two months since there is no water source to replenish it," the Scholar Representative stated.
"Then we can draw a conclusion. The destructive storm half a year ago was caused by a battle between a Kushala Daora and a Rusted Kushala Daora. They fought from the skies above the coastal sea all the way into the interior of the Wildspire Waste, causing severe damage to the Waste's ecology."
The Commander summarized with a solemn expression.
Don't laugh. Seriously, don't laugh—the hunters did not possess the omniscient perspective Asterion had. In a storm of catastrophic proportions, they couldn't possibly send people out to explore; that would have been purely sending them to their deaths.
Under such circumstances, the investigation progressed slowly. It was extremely normal that it took half a year to roughly figure out what had happened.
To be honest, in that destructive storm disaster—whether it was the torrential rain, the gale-force winds, or the waves driven by tornadoes to batter the coast—the hunters' base had suffered tremendous damage.
There was no need to mention the supplies that got waterlogged; even some of the constructed houses had been washed away or collapsed. Just the rescue of the wounded and the post-disaster reconstruction work had kept the hunters busy non-stop for the past six months, let alone sparing manpower to investigate the cause of this sudden natural disaster.
At the very least, they had to determine whether this kind of natural disaster was the normal rhythm of the New World or an abnormal situation. That was the very meaning of the Research Commission's existence.
"Yes... that is an Elder Dragon," the Scholar Representative sighed heavily. "During the investigation, we found the carcasses of many creatures. They all died in that storm."
"The only good news is that we don't have to worry about those carcasses causing a plague. The native inhabitants of the Wildspire Waste handled them quite well," Hara said, shrugging his shoulders.
Those who liked fresh meat could eat it directly; scavengers would eventually get their turn; and finally, various microorganisms would decompose the remains. For life living in a relatively resource-scarce area like the Wildspire Waste, as long as they survived the natural disaster, they could fill their bellies in the aftermath.
"Haha, extra rations, right?" The Chief Technician laughed loudly. "For them, this was indeed an unexpected windfall."
"But there are inexplicable points as well. The places where the Kushala Daora and the Rusted Kushala Daora fought seem to have been destroyed," the Scholar Representative said, pushing up his glasses with a confused look. "Not by rain erosion or other natural damage, but deliberately destroyed by some creature. We found massive traces of gnawing on the scene, ranging from soil to rock."
"In other words, is there an unknown monster?" The Commander nodded solemnly. "One that devours the scales or flesh dropped by Elder Dragons during their conflict."
"Uh, perhaps not unknown?" The confusion on the Scholar Representative's face deepened. "Normally, ordinary monsters shouldn't appear in an area where Elder Dragons are battling. The aura of the Elder Dragons, the shockwaves from their fight... considering their own safety, ordinary monsters would instinctively flee such a zone."
"But we found footprints of a Glavenus in every area where the Kushala Daora and Rusted Kushala Daora fought," Hara added. "Not traces left from past activity, but in the new terrain created after being destroyed by the Kushala Daora's power."
"...Are you implying that a Glavenus participated in the battle between the Kushala Daora and the Rusted Kushala Daora?" the Commander asked with a serious expression.
He couldn't be blamed for asking such a question; it was simply too astonishing. It was true that ordinary monsters might challenge Elder Dragons, and there were indeed ordinary monsters capable of defeating or repelling Elder Dragons.
But for a single ordinary monster to attack two Kushala Daoras simultaneously... and for it to be a Glavenus, a monster known for high intelligence even among ordinary monsters? This suicidal behavior was somewhat incomprehensible.
"We did find traces of Glavenus strikes at the scene," Hara answered briefly. "But strangely, we didn't find any scales or slag dropped by the Glavenus, nor did we find any traces of flame breath."
"A Glavenus..." The Leader murmured meaningfully. "Come to think of it, haven't we not seen that guy for a long time?"
Everyone knew who the Leader was referring to. There was only one Glavenus in the entire Wildspire Waste that the hunters were familiar with.
"Indeed, it has been a long time since we've seen it," the Sword Master suddenly spoke up. "The last time I saw it was half a year ago. I was hunting a Jyuratodus, and that strange Glavenus was watching from a distance, not approaching."
"So, it really could be him?" The Chief Technician stroked his beard, lamenting, "I hope he's still alive."
After all, it was a familiar dragon, a monster that rarely showed a relatively friendly attitude toward hunters.
"He should still be alive, right?" The Scholar Representative scratched his head. "Kushala Daora are not carnivorous Elder Dragons. We failed to find the Glavenus's carcass—well, we didn't find any body parts either, nor any dropped scales or flesh... I completely don't understand what happened!! So annoying! Yet so exciting! Is this the New World?! There are simply too many unsolved mysteries!!"
As he spoke, the Scholar Representative, losing control of his emotions, slammed his hands onto the table. Up until now, their investigation progress could essentially be called zero, which put him under immense pressure.
On the table surrounded by the group lay a map. The part currently drawn looked long and narrow, like an island, but it was actually a rough map of the Wildspire Waste drafted by the hunters. The areas marked with red circles were where the Kushala Daora had left traces.
"Well, that is the charm of nature," the Leader laughed heartily, patting the Scholar on the shoulder to console him. "Aren't we here precisely to explore these secrets? Having endless secrets to explore should be a good thing."
"You can't let the Guild hear that," the Commander grimaced. "They wish to unravel the secrets of the Elder Crossing as quickly as possible. 'Endless secrets' sounds a bit too terrifying."
"Hey, hey, be careful, watch out for the Guild Knights," Hara joked as well. "The Guild can't help it. Who told the Elder Crossing, which happens once every ten years, to cause devastating destruction to the kingdoms or villages along the way? Figuring out why this phenomenon exists sooner rather than later is a good thing."
Of course, there were Guild jokes among hunters; the higher the rank of the hunter, the more common they were.
Compared to their selves forty years later, the group—currently still young—was quite... lively in both their speech and conduct, full of youthful vigor.
After all, there were no juniors here; everyone was a partner who knew the others inside and out, so there was no need to maintain the dignity of a senior.
"Speaking of which, these two battling Kushala Daoras... could one of them be the one we were tracking when we set out?" After the laughter subsided, the Commander stroked his chin and asked. "Coming from the Old World, it would be an outsider to the New World's Kushala Daora. Driven by the instinct for territorial disputes, they would have engaged in battle."
"That is indeed a possibility," Hara nodded. "But didn't that Kushala Daora enter the Rotten Vale? The ones fighting in the storm were a Kushala Daora and a Rusted Kushala Daora... Anyway, for the coming period, I'm afraid I can't stay at the base, Commander."
"Are you leaving?" the Commander asked.
"Yeah. Thanks to the equipment the Captain helped forge, I can now try entering the Rotten Vale to explore. I hope to find traces of that Kushala Daora," Hara said with a smile, lifting a gas mask from his waist and shaking it. "At least it will allow us to confirm some things."
"Since that's the case, go ahead. Just remember to return periodically," the Commander nodded. "If the Kushala Daora we tracked here isn't one of the two that fought that day, things will get a bit troublesome."
That would imply there were at least three Kushala Daoras haunting the Wildspire Waste, which was truly a bit too dense.
"Oh? Then I shall—"
"Denied!"
The Leader's eyes had just lit up, but before he could say three words, the Commander glared and shot him down.
"Why?!" The Leader's eyes went wide. "Even Hara can go!"
"Who do you think the Leader is? Fulfill your responsibilities properly!" The Commander looked like he wanted to kick his old friend in the ass right then and there. "Until the reconstruction of the base is complete, you aren't going anywhere!"
"But— Nooo!!"
The Leader, born with an uninhibited love for freedom, had fallen!
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