It wasn't just the armored scales covering the Dreadking Rathalos's body that boasted immense defensive power—its beak was equally tough.
Unlike the dark red scales of a standard Rathalos, the Dreadking's scales were a red so deep it approached black. The exploding shards Asterion detonated only managed to slice a few shallow cuts across the more vulnerable areas of its abdomen, none of them running particularly deep.
The exploding shards, propelled by kinetic force, rushed toward the Dreadking's head and maw. Yet, this creature showed no fear or retreat. As if impervious to pain, it continued to tear and bite, mouthful after mouthful.
Scorching flames roiled within its mouth. Every time its sharp fangs bit into the flesh of Asterion's back, it was accompanied by an eruption of fire. The intense explosions tore the wounds open further, ripping skin and flesh apart.
In contrast, Asterion was far less efficient. He could only breathe fire; he couldn't utilize the explosive force to forcibly destroy the opponent's flesh while biting down—even if he increased the heat, it would merely result in cooking a chunk of meat.
As a fellow Fire-element monster, the Dreadking Rathalos possessed considerable resistance to fire damage. Furthermore, the scales on its back were exceptionally hard; the shattered bladed scales that struck them were all deflected harmlessly, failing to penetrate the enemy's armor.
It barely even bled. Its powerful muscles contracted around the wounds, and the high internal body temperature seemed to cauterize the injuries, accelerating their healing.
But the battle between these colossal beasts had only just begun. The damage exchanged so far was merely a greeting. Forget fatal wounds—it was impossible to tell who had the upper hand. Abundant vitality flowed through both their bodies.
They tore at each other, entangled, spewing flames, and striking with claws and fangs—rolling across the ground.
Asterion felt as though he were being dragged into unknown territory by the Dreadking. It was hard to imagine a Flying Wyvern abandoning the advantage of flight to adopt a strategy of close-quarters grappling.
The critical point was that this strategy was actually quite effective. It had a certain close-combat ranger aesthetic.
Now, even if Asterion wanted to let go and create some distance, he couldn't. This guy had discarded all dignity as a Flying Wyvern. Its expertise in aerial combat and flight seemed to vanish, transforming it into a ground-dwelling dragon.
It clung tightly to Asterion's body—biting, breathing fire, and looking for chances to stab with its tail spikes. Asterion couldn't find enough space or the right angle to swing his sword-tail. He was forced to revert to the most primal draconic instincts, attacking with claws and teeth.
The Dreadking's attack frequency was rapid—so fast it seemed to have lost its mind. Asterion was forced into a passive rhythm of response, unable to find an opening to change moves!
It was numbing.
This Dreadking Rathalos definitely had experience fighting Glavenus. It was willing to give up its flight advantage to maintain a grappling posture specifically to seal the Glavenus's sword-tail, preventing a monster of this build from swinging its massive tail.
Theoretically, there was nothing wrong with this tactic. The essence of a Glavenus lay in that tail. Even though Asterion's form had become somewhat aberrant, his tail still maintained the shape of a Great Sword. The Dreadking certainly knew where to focus.
But this method was something only a Dreadking could employ. If it were a standard Rathalos, its skeletal and muscular strength wouldn't support such intense ground-based wrestling. Asterion would have crushed its bones and dismantled it into spare parts in two or three moves.
But this was a Dreadking. Its bones were truly hard, and its scales were truly tough.
"Roar!!"
With a roar, Asterion's ferocity was ignited. You want to see who's more ruthless? Since when does a Flying Wyvern beat a Brute Wyvern on the ground? Have you no shame?!
The only thing the Dreadking perhaps miscalculated was Asterion's weight. A normal Glavenus weighs around sixty tons, but Asterion's weight had long reached a staggering two hundred tons!
An appetite and feeding frequency far exceeding a normal Glavenus, stronger digestion and energy absorption efficiency, plus the rocks and ores swallowed while digging tunnels—all these essences contributed to Asterion's currently excessive weight.
Gritting his teeth, he forcefully withstood the Dreadking's biting, exploding mouth. Ignoring the sharp fangs piercing his flesh—pain!—Asterion, eyes glowing red, forcibly pushed the Dreadking over and pinned it beneath him!
Just as the Kushala Daora had once used its weight to crush Asterion years ago, now Asterion used his own weight to forcefully pin down the Dreadking!
Stinking Flying Wyvern, trying to show off on the ground? Who do you think you are? A Tigrex?!
You think we ground-dwelling dragons gave up so much just because we can't fly!!
Although he had successfully gained the upper hand and pinned the Dreadking, a trace of faint melancholy flashed through Asterion's heart for some unknown reason.
He had sacrificed too much for combat power. Leaving aside everything else, just this weight... would he really be able to fly in the future?
Don't end up like Zorah Magdaros. Even with a Flying Wyvern skeleton and wings, the wings were just for show—massive ornaments.
He pressed down firmly on the Dreadking. Even though the guy struggled like a lunatic, Asterion didn't let up. To pin it even tighter, Asterion deliberately sprawled out, putting as much of his body mass as possible on top of the Dreadking.
This was what the old Kushala Daora had wanted to do but failed to achieve. The Dreadking was paying the price for its strategy.
Struggle, go ahead and struggle.
While his mind wandered atop the Dreadking, Asterion even found an opportunity to lower his head and bite the base of the Dreadking's tail. His jaw strength was superior to the defense of the Dreadking's scales. One bite drew blood instantly, and Asterion slurped the Dreadking's blood like a vampire to vent his hatred.
"Roar-ha!!!"
There was a hint of urgency in the Dreadking's angry cry. It couldn't tolerate being in this position, yet it couldn't rise under Asterion's heavy pressure. It became so desperate that even the tip of its tail exerted force, flapping its wings and thrashing its body to break free—Boom!
A breath of fire struck the bark of a nearby giant tree. The Dreadking's flame output was far greater and broader than a standard Rathalos. The fire ricocheted off the wall, enveloping both Asterion and itself.
Perhaps due to the scorching, viscous flames, or the secondary explosion that followed... or maybe the Dreadking suddenly burst forth with strength at that moment.
Whatever the cause, it finally broke free from beneath Asterion, flapping its wings hard to rush into the sky!
The gale generated by the flapping of its broad, thick wings further fueled the fire. The Dreadking climbed in altitude as fast as it could. This battle was far from over. The injuries it sustained and the humiliation of being pinned stimulated the Dreadking's arrogant heart—the dignity of an Apex!
It needed to counterattack! And this time, from the air!!
Its agile body easily turned in mid-air. But when the Dreadking turned around and cast its gaze downward, it saw a silver-gray line expanding.
It was extremely fast, constantly expanding, and arrived in front of its face in the blink of an eye.
"Roar-ha!!!"
Scalding dragon blood rained down from mid-air to the ground. The Dreadking's roar lost its anger, replaced by pain.
The massive figure spun in the air and crashed heavily onto the ground. Its heavy body smashed right through the wooden bridge... or rather, the vine bridge?
Half a leg punched right through the vine bridge. Asterion had to twist his body and use his sword-tail to cut the vines to free himself—it was actually quite difficult to twist into a posture where the tail could target the area beneath him.
The Dreadking had been let go on purpose. Asterion had deliberately lifted his body slightly to allow the Dreadking to squeeze out from that specific direction. While the Dreadking was panic-flapping to take off, behind it, Asterion had already clamped his sword-tail in his mouth, charging up a slash at his fastest possible speed.
This was a maneuver purely instinctual monster intelligence couldn't achieve. To them, hunting meant going all out, never relaxing or holding back. They didn't know that appropriate slack could often lead the enemy to act according to one's intentions.
The Dreadking had taken off in a straight diagonal line toward the sky, right in the direction Asterion was aiming, without any deviation.
Then, just as it started to fly and prepare a counterattack, it was struck squarely by an Iai Spirit Slash.
Asterion was a bit anxious, but not too anxious. His gaze remained locked on the Dreadking in mid-air. Starting from the spine near the hind legs and ending at the joint of the right hind leg, a wide and long wound slashed across nearly a quarter of the Dreadking's body.
Asterion could even see the blood-stained muscle blocks at the cross-section of the wound.
Boom!!
Just then, a ball of bright yellow, almost white flame dropped suddenly from the sky. Asterion wanted to dodge, but because his leg was stuck in the vines, he couldn't generate force and was forced to endure it.
The scorching heat, the suffocation from oxygen consumption, the impact of the flame itself—Asterion felt his bladed scales and shell melting. He had to close his eyes to prevent injury to the vulnerable parts exposed on his body surface.
The temperature of this flame was far higher than at the beginning. Driven by pain and a life-or-death crisis, the Dreadking seemed to have unlocked some potential.
Crack—Bang!!
Under the continuous flame breath attack, the vines trapping Asterion's leg ignited. Their moisture was quickly baked out, and they burned up. Asterion suddenly plummeted downwards.
Yellow-white flames poured down through the hole in the vines. Asterion only had time to scramble up and look around, realizing there was a hidden cave beneath the vine bridge. Although he couldn't see the sun, fluorescent moss grew on the stone walls, and moss-covered wood was visible at a glance.
He didn't have time to look closer. Asterion noticed the fire above seemed to weaken. Aiming at the hole he fell through, he leaped up.
Looking up, Asterion could only see a figure breaking through the canopy blockade and flying into the distance, dripping blood as its wings flapped—the Dreadking ran away?
It made sense. This dragon was extremely territorial, but not the type to fight to the death. Asterion didn't try to chase; this forest was still too unfamiliar to him.
Looking left and right, Asterion found a prominent rock and used his sword-tail to carve a mark indicating the direction the Dreadking fled.
A wounded prey is the most wonderful kind. Injury meant this Dreadking wouldn't actively seek fights with other monsters. It meant it would return directly to its nest to recover—likely a tall giant tree.
Asterion planned to come back with his dragon bros, especially the flying one, to ensure the Dreadking couldn't escape the next battle.
An area can only have one Apex. Since he encountered the Dreadking here, it was unlikely he'd run into another monster of the same tier.
Time to go back.
Following his marks back, passing through the tunnel, it took over a month of winding travel for Asterion to return to his old nest.
Compared to when he left, the Glavenus tribe was now filled with an atmosphere of parting.
Bundles were everywhere. The Grimalkynes had built many pushcarts, or carts that could be hitched to Apceros.
"Roar?" (How many Grimalkynes chose to leave together?)
"Meow! I will follow Boss Glavenus forever, meow!!" The old Shaman pledged loyalty immediately. "Most of the young ones chose to leave, meow! Boss Glavenus's Guard has not backed down either, meow!"
"Roar roar roar!" (Don't spread false words. It's entirely voluntary. Anyone who wants to stay can stay.)
"Of course not, meow!" The old Shaman got nervous. "I told everyone very clearly, meow! Those willing to leave are doing so because they want to, meow! Everyone thinks they'll live better following Boss Glavenus, meow!! Those who don't want to leave don't dislike you, Boss, meow, they just can't bear to leave their old home! After all, their ancestors have been here for generations, meow."
Asterion glanced around and found the young Grimalkynes were mostly excited, discussing with the cats next to them what the Ancient Forest would look like. The Grimalkynes choosing to stay seemed to be the older ones.
Are elderly Grimalkynes more nostalgic? Unwilling to leave their hometown... in this regard, they are very much like humans.
"Roar roar, roar roar roar." (Whatever, you decide for yourselves. I'm going to take my brother... the Bazelgeuse brother out again. The official migration will start after we return.)
"Eh? Boss is going out again, meow?" The old Shaman scratched his head in confusion. "If we decide for ourselves... um, actually, the cats out gathering recently reported finding another Boss Glavenus, meow."
"Roar?" (Another Boss Glavenus?)
Now that you mention that, Asterion suddenly got interested.
What does that mean? A second Glavenus has arrived at the southernmost tip of the Wildspire Waste?
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