The More He Learns, The More "Glavenus" He Becomes
Since the official construction of the base in the New World began, every hunter of the Research Commission had transformed into a miner, toiling away in the Wildspire Waste. The ore needed for building the base, the forging and maintenance of hunters' weapons, the manufacturing of pickaxes... in short, all these things were dug out of the rock by hunters, one swing at a time.
It was no secret to the scholars that a Glavenus's sword-tail was forged from ore; it was a conclusion easily drawn from observation.
Because of this, the appearance of an injured Glavenus—with a severed tail and a shell different from others, seemingly covered in a layer of ore crystals—was quite easy to understand.
After all, among all the lifeforms inhabiting this corner of the Wildspire Waste, only the hunters and this strange Glavenus dug for ore with such planning and purpose. Hunters had frequently discovered traces left by this Glavenus while searching for mining outcrops.
It would devour stone walls directly with its teeth or dig out a hole to find the vein before eating it clean. Honestly, those caves covered in tooth marks looked like monster nests from a horror story. When first discovered, they frightened quite a few hunters who thought they had stumbled into the lair of some unknown beast.
This behavior was also one of the factors leading scholars to believe Asterion was different from the average Glavenus. at least, the Glavenus of the Old World weren't crazy enough to start eating plain rock just to fill their stomachs with stones and ore alike—Glavenus really weren't dragons that subsisted primarily on stones.
Rock Glavenus, Ore Glavenus... the scholars of the New World had already drafted several names in preparation, but they hadn't found the most accurate one yet.
Regardless, knowing that this unique Glavenus had a huge demand for ore, was currently injured, and had a broken sword-tail—the only place nearby where one could find a large amount of ore at once really seemed to be the base, Astera.
"Caly?" The Commander turned his head and spoke. "Go push a cart of ore over here."
"Yes, sir!"
Although he didn't quite understand why the Commander would give such an order, the hunter named Caly reinforced his understanding through action.
The strength of a "Simian Wyvern" species—as Asterion might classify them—needed no explanation. Bringing two others along, it didn't take long for Caly and his group to push a cart piled high with ore out from the base.
"I'll handle this," the Admiral suddenly said as the cart arrived. "No matter what happens next, you all must remain calm. Do not show hostility."
Saying this, he walked directly over and grabbed the handle of the cart.
"Admiral?" Caly looked even more nervous. "Maybe I should—"
"It's fine, just follow the Admiral's orders." Patting Caly on the shoulder, the Commander said to the Admiral, "Don't die out there."
"Haha, who do you think I am?"
Laughing boisterously, the Admiral applied force to the handle. The powerful muscles in his arms bulged. Without even looking like he was exerting much effort, this man single-handedly pushed the ore-laden cart that had required three hunters to move.
"As expected of the Admiral..." Caly stared, his eyes wide.
That strength... uh, if he had that kind of strength, he could wield a Great Sword like it was a Long Sword.
"Alright! I'm off!" Without showing any strain, the Admiral announced carelessly and pushed the cart toward Asterion.
Closer. Closer still.
Thirty meters, twenty meters, ten meters...
"ROAR!!"
The moment Asterion's roar rang out, the people standing behind broke into a cold sweat for the Admiral. The Admiral himself, however, was daring to the extreme. He didn't show even a hint of panic. Instead, he unhurriedly set the cart down and walked around to its side.
"Yo! Little guy! Ah, maybe I should call you 'big guy' now, but I'm still not quite used to it." Patting the ore on the cart, the Admiral laughed heartily. "These are gifts. I don't know if you understand what a gift is... uh, eat up? Don't stand on ceremony, consider it a present from a friend?"
Under Asterion's gaze, the Admiral picked up a piece of ore the size of a human head and tossed it toward him—honestly, this action was so provocative that even the Commander, who unconditionally trusted his partner, felt like he couldn't stand still watching it.
The Admiral had aimed for Asterion's mouth, but Asterion didn't open his mouth to catch it. Instead, he let the ore smash against his chin.
The Admiral: "..."
It had a certain beauty, reminiscent of the scene where a small stick taps the head of "The Beast."
"Mm... not to your taste?" One could see that even the Admiral felt immense pressure in that moment; sweat was faintly beading on his forehead.
But compared to the others standing in the distance, whose hands were already on their weapons—and who would definitely have drawn them by now had the Admiral not specifically warned them before setting out—the Admiral was calm enough.
Asterion moved.
He really hadn't expected these familiar faces to push a cart of ore out to him. They seemed to think he was here looking for ore to eat... well, that wasn't entirely wrong. According to the big guy—the Admiral—this cart of ore was for making friends?
Yes and no.
No, I'm here seriously trying to steal techniques, what do you mean by coming over like this?
Asterion felt somewhat awkward. As the saying goes, you don't hit a smiling face... but he wasn't going to take this cart of ore!
Bending his sword-tail, which was still considered long despite the broken tip, he used the blunt cross-section to push the cart back toward the direction the Admiral had come from. Asterion roared toward the Sword Master, then took a few steps back. After confirming his next move wouldn't catch the Admiral in the crossfire, he suddenly thrust his sword-tail into the empty air!
Thrust!
This strike didn't reveal much on its own; horizontal swings, vertical chops, and thrusts were standard attack animations for a Glavenus. But what followed was different.
Following the thrust was a horizontal slash that cut directly into the stone slope. The next second, under the shocked gazes of the hunters, Asterion leaped into the air from a standstill—Soaring Dragon!!
A vertical split falling at rapid speed!!
If one were to use the Hunter's Guild official terminology, this move should be called the Spirit Helm Breaker. However, Asterion was still used to calling this move the Soaring Dragon.
No, with his current identity, this move should be called the Dragon Soaring Dragon!
Boom!!
Even a broken sword-tail possessed incomparable power. The heavy, forceful vertical split carved a deep gouge into the slope.
After striking this blow, Asterion didn't continue moving. Instead, he turned his head to look at the Sword Master standing in the distance and roared.
"I understand!!"
He got it. The Sword Master had completely got it.
He suddenly understood why this strange Glavenus had been staring at him from a distance, and specifically only staring at him—it was clearly learning his swordsmanship!
"No, that's not how that move is used!" the Sword Master couldn't help but shout. As he shouted, he walked quickly toward Asterion.
Scholar Bent wanted to reach out and grab him, but was stopped by the Commander.
With the Sword Master's speed, it didn't take long for him to move past the Admiral and arrive in front of Asterion.
"Watch closely!"
Shouting aloud, the Sword Master drew the Rathian Long Sword from his back. The same thrust, the same vertical slash, into a Spirit Thrust—leaping from his position—Spirit Helm Breaker!
The series of movements flowed like moving clouds and flowing water, though the Sword Master hadn't activated his Spirit Gauge; he was merely demonstrating.
"Roar!"
Asterion roared, but unfortunately, the hunters couldn't understand his words like the old Grimalkyne leader could... and even the old leader could only vaguely understand Asterion's meaning. If the content was any more complex, he wouldn't understand it either.
Asterion wanted to tell the Sword Master, I'm different from you Simian Wyvern species, I can't accumulate Spirit in my weapon like you do. But sadly, after a bout of roaring, the only response he got was the Sword Master's blank stare.
He didn't understand. He didn't understand at all.
Feeling somewhat helpless, Asterion could only mimic the movements the Sword Master performed in front of him, executing them with his sword-tail.
Thrust, Fade Slash, Vertical Slash, Spirit Blade...
For a time, a strange spectacle appeared in the Wildspire Waste: an armored hunter performing martial arts with slow, deliberate movements, while more than ten meters away, a giant Glavenus followed the hunter's movements, just a beat slower.
Only, the hunter wielded the Long Sword in his hands, while the Glavenus wielded his own tail.
You thrust, I thrust.
You swing, I swing.
You step back, I step back too.
The movements between the two were so unified, simply one slightly lagging behind the other.
"This is really... too magnificent!!"
Every syllable trembled with excitement. Scholar Bent's hand shook as he adjusted his glasses—the scene appearing before his eyes right now was as precious as the Research Commission discovering the New World itself. It was profoundly significant!!
What was he seeing?!
A Glavenus was consciously and actively learning a hunter's techniques?!
This could absolutely serve as evidence that high-level monsters actually possessed intelligence not far off from humans!!
Of course, intelligence was one thing, civilization was another. Having intelligence didn't mean they could develop a civilization, nor did it mean monsters would henceforth abandon their savage predation or attacks on humans.
But strictly speaking, this was monumental.
"Hara will definitely regret leaving in such a hurry when she finds out about this, won't she?" The Admiral couldn't help but laugh boisterously. "If she had left a few days later, wouldn't she have been able to witness this scene with her own eyes?"
Thinking of Hara's curiosity for exploring the unknown, the group broke into laughter.
"I originally thought this unique Glavenus came to seek help. No, I suppose this could count as seeking help?" The Commander shook his head and said, "But it's completely different from the kind of help I imagined."
"It's not for low-level resources like food or minerals, correct?"
Opening the notebook in his hand, Bent quickly sketched and wrote in it while answering the Commander's question.
"Exactly. How about that? I said this little guy was completely different, didn't I?" The Admiral patted the Commander's shoulder with a proud look. "I bet he suffered a huge loss when facing the Kushala Daora, otherwise he wouldn't have thought to come over and learn this kind of thing."
"I think so too," the Commander nodded. "No matter how highly we praise them, the techniques hunters have mastered were born, fundamentally, for the weak to triumph over the strong."
"To allow humans to possess the martial power to protect themselves when facing powerful monsters, and to allow humans to use their frail bodies to unleash power sufficient to repel, or even defeat, monsters—this is the essence of technique, and the essence of swordsmanship."
It was the skill the weak racked their brains to develop in order to defeat the strong. It was precisely through these techniques, which could be passed down and learned generation after generation, that humans were able to establish a foothold in this cruel nature.
But there was never a rule saying the strong couldn't learn these skills; it was just that in the past, the strong disdained to learn them.
The Strong—Dragons.
For ordinary dragons/wyverns, the techniques hunters spent a lifetime honing were only just enough to contend with them. Every hunt carried the risk of death, while the dragon only needed to eat and sleep.
As for Elder Dragons or Forbidden monsters, there was no need to even mention them; that was a height hunters could never reach regardless, a gap that technique could never bridge.
But leaving those entities on too high a level aside, for Asterion in this moment, the techniques the weak relied on for survival, combined with his innate god-like strength as a dragon—the combination of the two was a better match than Oreos dipped in milk. Even smoother—simply perfect!!
Most importantly, unlike his kin who were still launching rough attacks with teeth, claws, or their bodies, as a Glavenus, Asterion really could use a weapon just like the Simian Wyvern species.
Perfect.
He was born to eat from this bowl.
Eat... uh, could he really eat from it?
"Are you an idiot?! Why does every cut land in a different place?!"
"One point! Do you understand?! You need to control your sword, not be dragged all over the place by your sword!"
"Control your weapon! Make every cut strike the same position!"
The Sword Master shouted in anger. This was absolutely the worst student he had ever taught. A hunter who couldn't even swing a blade clearly like this... no, a guy with this level of skill wouldn't even be able to get a Hunter's Certification in the Guild!
He couldn't even compare to a one-star rookie!
"Wait, how did things suddenly turn out like this?" Caly opened his eyes wide in astonishment. "Am I seeing things? The Sword Master is actually scolding that Glavenus? And that guy actually isn't getting angry?!"
Not only was he not getting angry, but that Glavenus was actually working hard according to the Sword Master's requirements, constantly swinging his sword-tail at the empty ground.
"You definitely aren't seeing things," the Commander said with a subtle expression. "And that look of his... I haven't seen it in a long time."
Disdain for a fool.
Mm, to be precise, it was the look of seeing a rookie hunter who, despite not knowing how to use their weapon properly, had already started taking quests... someone who would die by the roadside one day without anyone knowing.
He couldn't bear to watch it.
It might sound unbelievable to say it out loud, but the fact laid out before them was that when this clever Glavenus temporarily abandoned using his instincts to swing his tail and instead forced himself to swing the blade with method and system... his swordsmanship was honestly a bit too ugly.
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