Asterion was currently frozen in the middle of a twist, his sword-tail thrust outward. Half of his body was angled away, and the Nergigante took full advantage of this, lunging directly at him. It intended to use its legendary brute force to slam Asterion into the dirt.
But—hadn't he already said it? I'm a literal hunk of ore, you overgrown lizard. Do you not understand?
Ten years ago, Asterion might have feared the Nergigante's innate, god-like strength. Ten years later, he simply stood his ground, proud and unmoving!
Well, he moved a little.
Hit by the sudden momentum of the Nergigante's dual-pawed slam, Asterion's entire frame staggered back a few steps. Yet, he didn't fall! More importantly, he wasn't pinned!
Could natural-born strength really compensate for ten years of hard-earned evolution? The Nergigante had no idea how many dragons Asterion had devoured over the last decade, how much ore he had consumed, or how many times he had evolved.
Most importantly—Nergigante still had to poop!
That meant its energy utilization and nutrient absorption were nowhere near Asterion's level. It even needed time to digest!
In this world, the one who doesn't need a bathroom break is the real winner!!
Asterion's right claw and leg were braced firmly against the rocks. The Nergigante reared up, pressing its front paws into Asterion's body, shoving downward repeatedly, but it couldn't force him to buckle.
(Keep pushing, then!)
"Roar!!" (This sword! Ten years of mastery!!)
Even Asterion was slightly surprised that he could hold his own and physically support the weight of a Nergigante. He let out a thunderous roar. Seeing the warning in his eyes, the Nergigante gave one final shove and used the momentum to leap backward, creating distance!
Slash!
The moment he retracted his sword-tail, Asterion spun, thrusting it back toward the Nergigante. However, the Elder Dragon had already begun beating its wings in reverse, retreating rapidly!
It understood the laws of draconic combat: when one dragon brings out its true strength, the other must do the same. Before it could figure out the current situation, there was only one thing to do—observe from safety!
This distance is enough! The Nergigante had already gauged the reach of Asterion's sword-tail. It didn't retreat too far; it hovered just outside the measured range, low to the ground, waiting for—Squish!
The Nergigante's wings, which had been flapping vigorously, suddenly went rigid. It fell straight back to the ground. It maintained its pose, wings spread wide, but its massive head tilted down to look at its own abdomen. Its eyes were wide with shock.
Asterion's sword-tail... had extended.
It had reached a length the Nergigante never expected, far exceeding the range it had calculated from their past battles and the exchange just moments ago. The tip was buried deep in its belly.
The Nergigante could feel something entering its body through the wound. It was a liquid, but it wasn't refreshing like water; it was viscous—and then came the drowsiness!
It understood now.
It wasn't as if it had never encountered dragons that used tranquilizing gases before!
But you! You!!
The Nergigante's vocabulary was admittedly limited, otherwise, it would have been screaming at Asterion for being so incredibly underhanded!
Last time, we fought from start to finish without any of these cheap tricks! We were supposed to be head-to-head brawlers!!
"Roar! Roar roar!!"
Asterion had no idea what the Nergigante was screaming about, but he could see its body beginning to sway, looking very much like a drunkard.
Except it was just exhausted.
"Roar!" (You lose.)
Asterion's roar echoed in the Nergigante's ears. In its blurry vision, as it struggled to keep its eyes open, it saw that sharp tail retracting quickly, shaking slightly before returning to its original form.
But the Nergigante didn't fall!
Even Asterion was shocked. When the Inagami had hit him with that move back in the day, he had fallen asleep without any ability to resist, only waking up after taking massive damage.
Wait, why isn't the Nergigante down??
Asterion had tested this "Slumbering Sword" technique on the Bazelgeuse brothers, and he'd watched them fall into a deep, peaceful sleep within seconds—the kind of sleep where you could kick them and get no reaction.
So why won't this thing go down???
Fine. I'll give you a little help.
Taking a deep breath, Asterion assumed a long-forgotten finishing stance. He arched his body, stopped the high-frequency vibration of his sword-tail, and bit down on the tip. He clamped his jaws shut, bracing himself, and began to charge his power!
Heaven and Earth—Peerless—Tail-Bite Spin!!!
In that instant, the massive dragon became a projectile, launched like an arrow toward the Nergigante! The moment he let go, the blade-scales on his tail, which had been closed, flared open again, vibrating at a terrifying frequency!
K-k-k-shhh-shhh!!!
First, the hardening spikes were sheared off. Then came the Nergigante's tough Elder Dragon shell. Then the skin, the fat layer, and finally, the bright red cross-section of muscle.
Asterion's strike nearly disemboweled the Nergigante. It wasn't for a lack of trying, but even now, the Nergigante still hadn't fallen asleep. In fact, after taking that hit, it seemed even more awake—its stumbling steps actually regained some rhythm!
"ROAR!!!"
The Nergigante's roar was still full of vigor, despite its gruesome appearance. A massive wound ran from its back muscles down to its belly, and scalding Elder Dragon blood sprayed out like a waterfall. Its muscles were already writhing, growing, and attempting to knit themselves back together!
Seriously, why?
Asterion was genuinely baffled.
How are you still awake??
High regenerative ability isn't the same as sleep resistance; those are two completely different things. As the Nergigante thrashed about wildly, some of its blood sprayed near Asterion, and he couldn't help but lower his head to take a lick.
Why?
Elder Dragon blood?
Is it the effect of the Elder Dragon blood?
If there was one major difference between himself and a "proper" Elder Dragon, Asterion figured it was the blood.
It was a simple way to judge: the meat of an Elder Dragon tastes completely different from that of a normal dragon. Asterion had tried tasting a piece of his own flesh once, and it didn't feel anything like eating a Teostra or that other unknown Elder Dragon.
The Bazelgeuse brothers were the same; even though they were incredibly powerful, the blood flowing through their veins wasn't Elder Dragon blood.
Asterion used to think this difference didn't matter. After all, blood shouldn't affect raw combat power as much as a new organ would.
But now... it seemed Elder Dragon blood held its own mysterious secrets.
"Roar!" (Bazel! Get him!)
With a roar, Asterion signaled the Bazelgeuse to join the fray. This was the hunter and his battle pet.
Kill Command!
The Bazelgeuse had finally managed to scrape or squeeze out the spikes that had been embedded in its body. Hearing Asterion's roar, it charged forward immediately.
Boom boom boom boom!!
I, the Bazelgeuse, dominate the world because of one thing: Explosions! And I love picking on the weak!
Seeing the Nergigante swaying and barely able to stand, the Bazelgeuse's predatory instincts were set ablaze. It charged directly at the Nergigante, the scales across its body turning a deep crimson before they even detached, then shifting to a brilliant, glowing yellow—BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!
Asterion actually found himself unsure of how to join in. The Bazelgeuse and Nergigante were buried in a cloud of dust and smoke from the explosions. He was afraid that if he swung his sword now, he might hurt his partner instead of the target.
So, he was forced to "see" for a moment. But he had to admit, unlike the chaotic free-for-all ten years ago, fighting as a team without having to worry about being betrayed or eaten by his "ally" made even this strengthened Nergigante feel manageable.
As long as the two of them kept trading blows and kept the Nergigante pinned here, this Elder Dragon Eater was eventually going to end up dead.
Then, the wind picked up.
Suddenly, Asterion saw the smoke and dust from the explosions blown away by a gust of wind, revealing the scene within. Under the stimulus of intense pain, the Nergigante seemed to have fully woken up.
It was using its wings to violently beat back the Bazelgeuse, resisting the brute's approach. It was practically scrambling away, trying to buy itself time to recover.
"Roar-on!" (Where are you, Boss!)
The Bazelgeuse called out. Asterion hadn't run, but he didn't seize the chance to attack either. Instead, acting on a gut feeling, he turned his head toward the distant sea.
The horizon was still shimmering with gold, but high above the sea level, Asterion saw a dragon flying toward them. And more importantly—he saw the air itself twisting!
"ROAR!!" (GET OUT OF THE WAY!!)
He barked the emergency order like a frantic trainer. The Bazelgeuse trusted Asterion implicitly and was willing to obey his commands. Despite its confusion and doubt, it immediately gave up its pursuit of the Nergigante, turning its body and using its wings and legs to scramble away as fast as possible.
It didn't know where it was supposed to hide; it just knew it needed to move.
In truth, even Asterion didn't know where to hide. After warning the Bazelgeuse, he rotated his wing-limbs and fired a burst of gas in one direction, propelling himself away from his original position.
BOOM!
A moment later, a projectile of distorted air slammed directly into the area where the three dragons had been standing. Upon hitting the rocks, it expanded and surged outward, quickly becoming a clearly visible storm zone.
In his haste, Asterion only had time for one burst of propulsion, and he was currently trying to pull himself out of the near-shore seawater. He had accidentally flown into the ocean, though luckily the sand here was firm and he hadn't fallen into the deep end.
What else could be said?
It was a Kushala Daora!
Asterion really hadn't expected that the Elder Dragon the Third Fleet was tracking would be a Kushala Daora. To be honest, seeing one again brought up some complicated feelings.
Although he never got to have a satisfying, all-out battle with the Old Kushala before it died, if Asterion had to choose, that dragon had probably influenced and helped him more than any other since he arrived in this world.
Living and dead.
It was also that Old Kushala that had made Asterion realize there was a draconic society in this world that humans knew nothing about—a society that existed only among Elder Dragons.
So, what about this new one?
It was also an elderly Kushala Daora, but how did it differ from the one he knew?
Based on first impressions, its temper seemed pretty bad.
It wasn't even here yet and it was already lobbing air blasts from a distance—and full-power ones at that. Was it really that eager to assert its dominance the moment it arrived in the New World?
Haji-Kushala, you bastard!
The compressed air blast finally began to dissipate, and the visual distortion of the air faded. The rippling seawater surged back toward the shore. All three dragons, including Asterion, were still alive. Even the Nergigante had survived.
That tenacious monster's wounds had already shrunk considerably. One could see the granulation tissue at the wound site connecting and filling in the gaps.
Asterion licked his chops, looking at the Nergigante with a gaze full of hunger. He hadn't had the chance to properly savor the blood and flesh he had swallowed in the heat of the moment, and he didn't know if that flesh would grant him the Nergigante's incredible recovery speed.
If we manage to kill the Nergigante this time, I'm definitely giving myself a blood transfusion.
The Kushala Daora's flight speed was incredibly fast. Unlike normal monsters that relied on flapping wings to generate lift, its flight could be categorized as magical.
Just like Asterion, the Kushala Daora was a heavy chunk of mineral matter that fed on ore. The only reason it could fly so freely was its Elder Dragon power to control the storms.
It was an old acquaintance; there was nothing more to say.
The Nergigante also noticed the Kushala Daora's approach. The range of that wind blast had been enormous. Even though Asterion had spotted it early, he hadn't fully escaped the blast zone. But in reality, the Nergigante had taken the most damage because it hadn't had time to run.
"Roar-on!" (Boss?)
"Roar." (Wait.)
Even after being ambushed, Asterion didn't choose to counterattack immediately. He was waiting. He was curious what gave this Kushala Daora the confidence to start a fight from so far away.
Everything was different from ten years ago. Back then, the Nergigante would have ignored Asterion and charged straight for the Teostra crossing the sea. But ten years later, the Nergigante only cast a greedy glance toward the Kushala Daora before refocusing its attention entirely on Asterion.
It was a bit of a shame. This meant there was no chance to sneak in a heavy blow on the Nergigante. Asterion didn't want things to devolve into a situation where the Nergigante and Kushala Daora teamed up to beat down him and the Bazelgeuse.
As the old saying goes: Don't fight fair; fight with superior numbers.
It didn't take long for the Kushala Daora to land on the shore, pushed along by the wind. During this time, Asterion and the Bazelgeuse didn't continue their assault on the Nergigante. This Kushala Daora was starting to act a bit like a referee.
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