There wasn't a hint of flattery in the Admiral's tone—only pure admiration and the poignant warmth of an old friend's reunion.
The man was practically made of courage. Or rather, analyzing it rationally, as a human, the Admiral should have been completely suppressed by Asterion's overwhelming presence, which could only be described as an aura of sheer terror.
Yet unlike those green, weak-willed young hunters, the Admiral—often joked about as a human variant of the Rajang—possessed a political will of absolute steel. Even when his physical instincts screamed in mortal peril, he could forcefully command his body to move, overcoming the paralyzing dread that would leave an ordinary human weak in the knees.
Indeed, when the Admiral spoke in such a casual tone, the Dragon-Chosen Warrior guiding them—who had been on high alert the entire time—gaped so wide in shock that his jaw practically hit the floor. The Admiral was acting as if he were simply greeting an old pal at a tavern!
His head shook back and forth like a malfunctioning rattle, darting between Asterion's colossal dragon head and the Admiral's fearless back. His left and right brain were practically at war; he had no idea whether he should draw his weapon and slash this audaciously bold human, or immediately drop to his knees and beg Boss Asterion to forgive him for bringing such a madman into the lair.
"Roar." (Indeed, it has been a long time.)
Asterion's roar echoed through the cavern. Unlike the Nether-marked Grimalkynes, who had utterly deified him and worshipped him as an absolute, inviolable god, Asterion didn't care about such trivialities. He certainly didn't feel that his majesty as a Forbidden Species was slighted by the Admiral's casual tone.
Quite the contrary. In the long, lonely years he could clearly foresee ahead, seeing these familiar faces again and hearing such unpretentious greetings actually brought Asterion a touch of joy.
After all, he knew this fleeting joy wouldn't last very long.
Time operates on entirely different scales for humans and dragons. The realization that this world was filled with diverse dragons, that it was a world called Monster Hunter—this awareness had long since faded from Asterion's mind.
He no longer viewed himself as the player from back then, nor did he see this world as some video game universe.
The game's original plotline had long been derailed to parts unknown by his very existence and actions. For starters, the Research Commission had originally been established to investigate the cause of the Elder Crossing, aiming to minimize the loss of human life in the Old World. The discovery of the New World was entirely an accident, and its subsequent exploration was a later decision made by the Kingdom and the Hunters' Guild.
The Elder Crossing originally occurred because Xeno'jiiva constantly lured aging Elder Dragons to the New World to die, absorbing their life energy for its own development. However, Asterion had already slaughtered Xeno'jiiva decades ago.
The phenomenon of the Elder Crossing had effectively ended right then and there. Its subsequent occurrences were only due to Asterion's own call... but Asterion wasn't going to constantly order "takeout" like Xeno'jiiva did.
This meant that the greatest mystery the Research Commission was determined to solve had lost any possibility of being unraveled—unless Asterion chose to provide the answers himself.
But none of that really mattered. In a real world, every living being is the protagonist of their own story. What Asterion truly found difficult to let go of were the few familiar faces standing before him... It wouldn't take long. In just a few decades, even these people who made him feel a sense of familiarity would grow old and pass away.
And that timespan might be even shorter than his subconscious realized; it could all be over in the span of a single dragon's nap.
The Admiral, the Handler, the Excitable A-Lister, the suspected Sapphire Star... Asterion's gaze swept across each of their human faces. He knew that once these people were gone, this world might truly become an entirely alien place to him.
It would feel as though his connection to his past life's human memories had been cleanly severed by an invisible pair of shears. All that would remain in the future would be an uncharted world left to explore, and a dragon named Asterion.
———But it didn't matter.
Asterion mocked himself internally for this momentary lapse into sentimentality. As long as I exist here, everything is real.
"Roar, roar." (You're right. This is my true form.)
Though things will change once I get the chance to devour another Forbidden Species down the road... Asterion added silently in his mind.
"Roar?" (Is there something you need?)
There was no need for a Nether-marked Grimalkyne shaman to translate; Karl, whose assimilation with the Sapphire energy was already quite deep, could convey Asterion's words to the Admiral.
This hunter, suspected to be the Sapphire Star, hadn't completely turned blue-skinned yet. However, his originally pitch-black hair had transformed into a deep navy blue, and his eyes emitted a faint cerulean glow in the dark. His physical strength had also grown exponentially compared to the past.
According to the scholars, it wouldn't take much longer for Karl to completely undergo the "Sapphire transformation." He likely just needed a catalyst to trigger the final evolution.
"Oh, nothing strange, really! We just came to deliver some gifts!" the Admiral replied boisterously after hearing Karl's translation. His blunt answer instantly caused the accompanying hunters to cover their faces, looking thoroughly mortified.
Come on, Admiral! Who talks like that?!
Yes, we're bringing gifts, and yes, we want to get on the Azure Star Dragon's good side so he'll let us roam the New World freely... but could you please not say it so blatantly?!
But the Admiral seemed completely immune to embarrassment. Utterly ignoring his subordinates' reactions, he turned around and waved his hand, gesturing for the dazed hunters to come forward and uncover the large transport wagon.
Only then did the Admiral wipe the carefree grin from his face. Facing Asterion, he spoke with an uncharacteristically solemn expression:
"As the Admiral of the Research Commission, I stand here on behalf of the United Human Kingdoms and the Hunters' Guild to present these gifts to the Azure Star Dragon. Oh, right, Boss—'Azure Star Dragon' is the title we've given you. It carries a profound meaning. Among us humans, there is a legend called the Tale of the Five. It is said that a long, long time ago..."
This exact scene would undoubtedly be etched into the annals of human history. After all, the Admiral's actions marked the very first time human civilization had extended a diplomatic gesture of goodwill to dragon civilization—or rather, modern human civilization, to be precise.
Watching the Admiral show absolutely zero stage fright as he launched into the Tale of the Five—garrulously reciting it as if he were regaling patrons at a pub—the scholar tasked with recording this monumental diplomatic event could only clutch his head in sheer agony.
The scholar was already racking his brain, wondering how on earth he was going to romanticize this diplomatic mission and polish the Admiral's crude image once they returned.
Regardless, the Admiral was undeniably a master storyteller. His voice dipped low and soared high, finally bringing the tale to a close with the Sapphire Star—the celestial body from the myth that guides one's path, symbolizing boundless hope and miracles.
"If that legend is true, then no dragon fits that title better than you, Boss," the Admiral said, his eyes burning with intense conviction as he offered his unreserved praise. "While our human footprints are still limited and we haven't reached every uncharted corner of this vast New World, everything that has transpired within the regions we currently occupy and observe has already proven it beyond a doubt."
The Admiral spoke fluidly, without a hint of rote rehearsal. It sounded more like he was giving voice to questions and thoughts he had pondered and re-evaluated thousands of times in the quiet of his own mind.
"We believe that you, Boss, are a Forbidden Species that symbolizes evolution itself. The quantum leap in life forms brought about by the bio-energy radiating from you certainly plunged the Ancient Forest and the Wildspire Waste into unprecedented chaos."
"Countless fragile lives unable to adapt to this evolution perished in that brutal process. But such is the law of nature: the flip side of destruction is rebirth. Just as many stronger, more incredible new life forms broke free from their cocoons amidst this evolutionary surge. That is the greatest miracle of nature."
"And most importantly, this evolution has elevated their intelligence. Beasts that once relied purely on instinct to hunt and breed now possess independent, fully realized minds. They have learned to think, to use tools, and have even begun developing unique civilizations of their own, much like the Grimalkynes. They have become Lynians—ah, that's just a term we humans use for other sapient races, please don't take offense."
"In short, when it comes to altering the laws of the world, birthing new things, and elevating civilizations, you are the only one who truly deserves to be called the Sapphire Star, Boss!"
Talk about a performance delivered with absolute passion and sincerity.
The Admiral's impassioned, borderline-cringe-inducing speech gave Asterion goosebumps all over his entire dragon body—well, assuming a dragon could get goosebumps.
Are you kidding me? Talk about laying it on thick.
Listen to yourself! Is this kind of speech really supposed to come from someone with your character design?!
You're not the Admiral! You sound like a professor lecturing on cultural humanities! Did you seriously come up with these words and this phrasing on your own?!
After a flurry of internal grumbling, nobody could have guessed that beneath Asterion's majestic, terrifyingly stern draconic facade was a non-stop roast session.
Put it this way: if Asterion hadn't possessed advanced knowledge of the Admiral's character due to his nature as an Information Forbidden Species, confirming that this rugged giant was definitely not some insidious hypocrite who only spouted sycophantic flattery, he would have genuinely suspected these humans were trying to disarm his vigilance with shameless sweet talk before pulling out some anti-dragon superweapon to do something sinister.
Beware of sweet talk and flattery!
But if he accepted the Admiral's legendary, hot-blooded sincerity, looking at it from that angle... didn't that mean all that cheesy flattery the man just spouted actually came straight from the bottom of his heart?
Asterion couldn't help but feel a flicker of surprise. This man, who had dedicated his entire life to exploration, who had weathered decades of storms in the perilous wild of the New World trying to maintain the ecological balance—was he genuinely, half-heartedly convinced that the mass evolutionary wave Asterion triggered was a good thing?
That was actually quite interesting.
Or maybe, because of Asterion's presence in this world, the Admiral had never viewed hunters strictly as the "guardians of ecological balance"?
As Asterion pondered, he reasonably suspected that his actions over the years had catalyzed some strange psychological shift in the Admiral... making him quite different from the Admiral he remembered from the original game.
Meanwhile, seeing Asterion remain silent, the Admiral casually moved on to introducing the gifts they had brought. Following his cues, the hunters began arranging the offerings sent by the various human kingdoms of the Old World and the Hunters' Guild right before Asterion's eyes.
Several large chests of spices went without saying. It was no secret that the Glavenus Tribe imported vast quantities of Old World spices from Astera every year to prepare meals for the monsters they reared, and word had long since spread that the Azure Star Dragon favored heavily seasoned foods.
Beyond that, there was a vast hoard of gold, silver, and jewels... or perhaps they were better described as artisanal crafts?
"Ah, these are works of art from different kingdoms and villages. Yeah, I don't really get this stuff myself," the Admiral said, scratching his head. "Anyway, each one represents our human artistic styles. We just hope you like them, Boss."
Shifting his massive weight, Asterion leaned his colossal dragon head forward, curiously inspecting the various pots, jars, and statues. They seem completely useless. I can't even perceive whatever aesthetic value they're supposed to have.
"Roar?" (Is there anything else?)
"Yes, yes, though this next part might be a bit weird..." At this point, the Admiral's face contorted as if he were severely constipated before he hauled a thick, heavy stack of bound books out of a chest. "This is our human history. Anything predating this has been lost, so it only starts from the founding of the first kingdoms... Let me think, how did the scholars put it? It's so you can 'understand humanity better,' Boss?"
The Admiral gave a couple of awkward chuckles.
"Though I reckon you wouldn't have the patience to read such tiny print anyway, Boss... You could always have the Grimalkynes read it to you."
"Roar." (Leave them.)
As expected of an official gift from human kingdoms and the Guild; it was riddled with convoluted subtext and symbolism. Asterion had zero interest in the human history of this world. All he knew was that ancient humans were incredibly powerful until Fatalis wiped them out, and modern humans were basically like cosmic excavators, spending all their time digging up ancient ruins.
Case in point: right up until the time he crossed over into this world, humans had gone and excavated yet another forbidden zone filled with lost hyper-technology. Who knew what kind of trouble they were about to stir up.
But it didn't matter. Fatalis kept a constant eye on the development of human civilization anyway. If anything truly dangerous crossed the line, the old monster would step in.
Right now, his own affairs took priority.
"Roar." (I have a request to commission you with.)
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