[Investigation Log · 194]
I was wrong; it isn't friendly at all.
I thought I had discovered a Glavenus subspecies. No, given the massive physiological differences between this monster and a normal Glavenus, it should be classified as a Deviant.
Even though this conclusion is hard to believe, I witnessed this monster kill an Odogaron—that reddish-brown monster that looks like it has no skin; that's the temporary name I've given it.
This monster's attack patterns are extremely similar to a Glavenus, using its sword-tail to stab or slash at enemies. However, unlike a normal Glavenus, there is no ore-encrusted Great Sword on its tail. Instead, the "blade" consists of incredibly sharp scales lining the upper and lower edges of the tail.
Aside from that, and disregarding the missing flame-shaped shell on its back, the monster's overall structure isn't vastly different from a Glavenus—it shares the same short forelimbs and powerful hind legs.
Scholars will definitely be excited by the appearance of a Deviant. After all, they are powerful, rare, and hold immense research value.
I have been away from Astera for over a year now. Perhaps I should bring my findings back, lest I die in an accident and leave this knowledge unknown to anyone.
[Investigation Log · 196]
I'm not sure if what I'm feeling right now is normal, or if I'm hallucinating... Maybe I've been alone for too long? Or is it Effluvium poisoning?
I feel like that Deviant Glavenus is watching me.
It's not an illusion. Recently, I've been running into it constantly in the caverns of the Rotten Vale. I always thought I was the one observing it, but until today... it suddenly hit me: is it observing me, too?
Perhaps it hasn't attacked me because I am the only creature of my kind it has seen in the Rotten Vale. (The handwriting becomes chaotic, as if the pen nearly pierced the paper).
I'm getting a bit agitated; I had to take deep breaths just to barely calm down. This is absolutely an unprecedented sensation—I might be the first human ever to be observed by a monster, just as I usually observe them.
What is it? Could it be a scholar among monsters?
I really must return to Astera. Not just because the paper and pens I brought are running out, but because I'm terrified that my discoveries will vanish here.
But before that, I want to try heading to the cave where that Kushala Daora is located.
Unknown to him the mental distress he had caused Hara, Hara's appearance had indeed given Asterion a renewed sense of time, breaking the endless cycle of merely eating and sleeping.
It was interesting. In particular, the way Hara would nervously glance at him from time to time amused Asterion greatly—until he discovered flakes of rust from a Kushala Daora in a cave Hara had passed through.
There was no mistake. Asterion remembered this scent. These were definitely rusted flakes left behind by a Rusted Kushala Daora.
Which meant Hara was also tracking the Kushala Daora?
This discovery made Asterion turn serious instantly. Putting aside his desire for amusement, he followed Hara closely, ceasing his psychological harassment of the huntress.
"Th-This... Rusted Kushala Daora?!"
Crouching halfway down at the entrance of a cavern tunnel, Hara's pupils dilated as the scene before her reflected in her eyes. The unprecedented shock caused her to cry out subconsciously.
Boom!!
Before Hara could get a clearer look, a massive figure leaped over her. Its powerful hind leg slammed onto the rock beside her, creating the sound of heavy, thunderous footsteps.
Hara's cry echoed far into the cavern, and Asterion, hearing her shout, quickly caught up. The tunnel entrance was large—large enough that he didn't even need to crouch to walk straight in.
He saw the old Kushala Daora. The Rusted Kushala Daora.
It looked like a deep brown hill piled in the corner of the cave. The Kushala Daora's broad wings were draped over its body like two massive cloaks. It was motionless. It wasn't entirely rust-colored; amidst the layers of mottling, one could faintly see patches of silver-gray.
Even though Asterion had never tried to mask his footsteps, the dragon showed no reaction, not even when he walked right into the cave and stood before it. It was as if it were asleep.
Dead?
The thought involuntarily rose in Asterion's mind—an absurd thought—the old Kushala Daora is dead?
But Asterion wasn't allowed to dwell on that thought, simply because everything happening on the Kushala Daora's body at this very moment forced his mind in that direction.
A cave lacking natural light should only be illuminated by glowing moss or bioluminescent fungi. Yet, when Asterion stepped into this cavern, he found it far brighter than any other, lit up like a desert under moonlight. Even the stones on the far side of the cave were clearly visible.
Wisps of milky white light were continuously flowing outward, centered on the Kushala Daora. Yes, flowing. Light, which should be intangible and travel instantly, seemed to transform here into small, silken rivers, drifting into the surroundings.
It was extraordinarily dreamlike. No wonder Hara had cried out upon seeing this scene.
Stopping in his tracks, Asterion quietly watched a ribbon of light drift from the Kushala Daora's body, flowing windingly toward the other corner of the cave until it sank into the rock.
Suddenly, Asterion knew—or rather, guessed—what these beautiful ribbons of light were.
It was Bioenergy dissipating from the Kushala Daora's body.
At the end of its lifespan, the Kushala Daora was releasing the Bioenergy it had accumulated over a lifetime, returning it to nature.
In the Rotten Vale, this land of circulation for the New World, the Bioenergy returned to the earth, flowing through the dragonveins to every corner of the continent.
However, this was not the dragon's own will.
The Kushala Daora had awoken at some point. Asterion saw its rust-covered head turning to look at him, yet it held none of the mania present during their last encounter.
It, too, noticed the Bioenergy dissipating from its body. The Kushala Daora stretched its neck and snapped at the lights, trying to devour the energy back into its body, but the escaping energy far exceeded what it could swallow back.
"Roar..." (You came too late.)
The Kushala Daora's growl was exceptionally low.
"Roar." (It is you who is dying too fast.)
Asterion sighed with a trace of desolation.
He would never have come to find the old Kushala Daora without completing his evolution and increasing his strength. Yet, when he could evolve was not under his control; those evolutionary traits wouldn't obediently line up in one place waiting for him to eat them.
But the old Kushala Daora's lifespan was fixed. Especially now, nearing the end of its life, the old dragon could no longer control the Bioenergy within its body, watching helplessly as it naturally escaped.
This was a characteristic of Elder Dragons like the Kushala Daora. When they died completely, only a steel skeleton would remain—meaning they began to die while they were still alive.
Sounds abstract, doesn't it? But this is the Kushala Daora. As their lifespan nears its end, their bodies gradually turn into true steel, starting from the outside and working inward. This process had already begun years ago when it first encountered Asterion.
Control over the body is gradually lost, and the essence stored within escapes during this loss of control.
"Roar roar, roar!" (Do you think you can kill me? Not me, looking like this?)
Yet, the old dragon's mouth still refused to admit defeat.
"Roar roar!" (I think I can... Why can you still recognize me after I've evolved into this form?)
The old Kushala Daora's body, which seemed to have rusted into a single solid block, finally moved. It struggled to climb up, carefully scrutinizing Asterion.
"Roar." (Your aura has not changed.)
"Roar." (Aura?)
Asterion roughly understood what the old dragon meant, but to be honest, he was now at a bit of a loss. In its current state, the old Kushala Daora looked like it struggled even to move; killing it would not be difficult.
But its peaceful demeanor made Asterion hesitate on how to strike. If only the old dragon would show a little hostility.
"Roar roar!" (Do you know what those humans call me? They call me an Elder Dragon.)
The Kushala Daora's low growl echoed in the cave. Hara couldn't understand the conversation between the dragons, but she could see that they were communicating—what a shocking discovery!
Her hands were shaking with excitement. She had thought that when two different species of monsters met, the only outcome was battle, whether for territory or food. But Hara had never imagined a development like this.
Was this a special case found only among Elder Dragons or Deviants? A privilege of high-intelligence monsters?
Regardless, what she discovered today would overturn the scholars' understanding! It would overturn the Guild's understanding!!
"Roar." (Kill me.)
Unlike Hara, who was so excited she could barely control herself, the old Kushala Daora's roar remained calm, even when speaking of its own death. Its head never lowered.
"Roar roar roar!" (I once thought you were just an ordinary dragon, but I was wrong.)
"Roar!" (You are also an Elder Dragon. Your previous form was merely temporary, and your current form is not the end.)
"Roar roar!!" (Kill me! Eat me!! Show me your true power!!)
The old Kushala Daora's roar finally carried a trace of agitation.
"Roar." (Are you sure?)
Asterion growled in a low voice. He wouldn't feel guilt or moved. No matter what the old dragon said today, he was going to eat it.
An Elder Dragon's flesh. An Elder Dragon's blood. An Elder Dragon's power.
Even if the old Kushala Daora's power had drained significantly, it was still the power of an Elder Dragon.
"Roar!" (Kill me!)
Simply repeating those words, the old Kushala Daora struggled to shift its prone posture, trying to stand. However, its body, largely turned into a pure steel shell, restricted its movements. Only its head remained held high!
Crack!!
Lunging forward violently, Asterion bit precisely onto the old Kushala Daora's throat. There wasn't even a spray of dragon blood; Asterion felt as if he had bitten into refined ore.
Tearing, swallowing. Asterion forcibly crushed the old Kushala Daora's spine with his jaws. This barbaric, cruel scene instantly chilled the exhilarated Hara to the bone. She couldn't understand why the two dragons, peacefully conversing just a moment ago, had turned to lethal violence in the next second.
Swallowing the chewed-up bone, Asterion raised his head and looked at the old dragon's head, which had fallen heavily to the ground. Its eyes were not yet closed. Was the light flickering in those cloudy eyes anticipation? Or relief?
Asterion couldn't tell.
He only knew he could not waste the old Kushala Daora's legacy.
Elder Dragon?
So, in the eyes of an Elder Dragon, I am also an Elder Dragon?
He greedily devoured the old Kushala Daora's flesh and blood—though it felt nothing like eating flesh. After several mouthfuls, Asterion hadn't even sucked out a mouthful of Elder Dragon blood.
His mouth was full of incredibly hard metal, similar to when he had eaten his own severed tail-blade or the tail-blade of the Acidic Glavenus.
The old Kushala Daora's internal organs had even withered away. Asterion anxiously searched its body for the existence of an Elder Dragon Gem, but even after he had devoured the body completely and cracked open the head to swallow it, he failed to find anything that could be called a Kushala Daora Gem.
Asterion believed that a Kushala Daora about to die of old age definitely had a gem inside it, but the energy within that gem had likely escaped the body in wisps long before his arrival, flowing into the dragonveins.
After all, when Asterion saw the old dragon, it couldn't even stand up.
But even so, Asterion, having eaten the entire corpse, obtained sufficient evolutionary information and Bioenergy.
Perhaps because most of the flesh had turned into pure mineral, Asterion did not gain the Kushala Daora's signature wind manipulation ability. Instead, he obtained its steel skin.
The scales and shell on his body were trembling continuously. They fell off one by one, exposing Asterion's raw muscles, but immediately, new shell and scales appeared.
Reddish-brown shell and blue-green blade-scales—these were Asterion's original colors. But now, the newly grown shell and scales shared a uniform color—silver-gray.
Even the layer of mineral secretions that originally covered his shell did not appear. They had integrated into the new shell and scales, just like the steel skin of a Kushala Daora: pure metal, yet capable of molting and regeneration.
A type of biological metal.
But the change that brought Asterion the most joy was his front claws—those short, stubby forelimbs had now transformed into a pair of forelegs as long as his hind legs. Each claw had four finger joints: three long and one short, with the short one located on the side like a thumb.
From this moment on, Asterion truly possessed the standard skeletal structure of a six-limbed Elder Dragon. Yes, six limbs!
Even if his wings were very small.
Turning his head, Asterion could clearly see a pair of small wings sprouting from the sides of his smooth back. They were less than a fifth the size of his body, looking like mere decorations, yet they could open and close at his will.
Much like the small wings of an Anjanath.
Not quite used to this sensation, Asterion staggered a few steps. As he was about to fall, he instinctively reached out with his forelegs to support himself—and unlike before, this time, his forelimbs actually held him up.
With a look of wonder, he grabbed a stone with his foreclaw and, applying slight pressure, crushed it into powder.
Asterion was very satisfied with the strength of his forelimbs. It meant they weren't just for show. From this day forth, he once again possessed forelimbs capable of grasping!
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