"The Commander's supreme directive: When it's time to play, play hard! But when it's time to work, you better be damn serious!"
In stark contrast to that sentiment, once the investigation phase truly began, one had to approach it with twelve-tenths of their focus and caution. Looking back today, the raucous, lively welcoming party for the 5th Fleet last night felt like a fleeting mirage, vanishing completely the moment the morning sea breeze swept through.
Hunters carrying supplies or sharpening weapons were everywhere along the paths of the base. Everyone's nerves were pulled taut once more. The rhythmic clanging of hammers echoed incessantly from the Workshop, and the grating sound of wooden carts rolling along the boardwalks never paused for a single moment. In this atmosphere of gravity and urgency, the members of the 5th Fleet prepared to set out for the Ancient Forest's forward investigation base.
Within the open-air council room, constructed from the wreckage of an old ship, the five flags of the fleets—red, orange, purple, green, and white—fluttered in the wind at the prow. The entire leadership of the Elder Dragon Research Commission, including the Admiral and the Commander, had gathered here. Departing from tradition, several Recommended Hunters from the 5th Fleet were also in attendance.
After all, their strength was undeniable. If it came down to a raw contest of hunting prowess, it was possible even the Admiral might not be their match. Should the situation deteriorate and the Research Commission find itself in an irreconcilable conflict with Asterion, these elite hunters would be the ones needed at the vanguard to repel him in the most brutal of battles.
Therefore, before finalizing the battle plan, the leaders of the Commission needed to fully consult their opinions and judgment.
Looking at these young, driven faces, the Commander didn't withhold any information. He recounted everything Mirrorblade had disclosed through Kankan after returning to the forward base covered in wounds, relaying the details exactly as they were told.
He spoke seriously and meticulously, weaving in various pieces of intelligence regarding Asterion, striving to make these young hunters realize exactly where the crux of the matter lay.
Of course, although Asterion often complained that he wasn't bright enough, Mirrorblade actually lived up to the "Mirror" in his name—he had a good head on his shoulders. When recounting his experiences, he had been selectively reserved, omitting Asterion's complex views on humanity and the private warnings given to him.
He only explained the source of the Bio-energy and the warning Asterion had issued to him—or rather, to all humans of the Research Commission: Are you prepared to adapt to a brand-new environment?
"...That is essentially the situation. Since some time has passed, there might be a few omissions. Is there anything you'd like to add, Little Boss?" After summarizing the intelligence, the Commander paused and turned his head toward the ship's bulwark. There, a massive dragon head covered in hard scales was resting.
Needless to say, Mirrorblade was a participant in this meeting—in fact, he had insisted on it. After all, the target of this discussion was Asterion, his own leader.
Considering the relationship between Mirrorblade and Asterion, as well as the dragon's current heavy and complicated emotions, the Commander had originally wanted Mirrorblade to rest. He hadn't intended for him to participate in this operation, even though Mirrorblade's combat power was formidable and he could be considered the primary attacker if they faced Asterion.
It had to be said that the moral standards and integrity of the current Research Commission members were exceptionally high; it was no wonder Mirrorblade had adapted to them so naturally.
"Growl."
"Little Boss says there's no problem, meow. The Commander said it all, meow. He has nothing to add, meow," a tiny figure said, sitting firmly on the tip of Mirrorblade's snout. Kankan waved a paw, translating the growl.
"Since the intelligence is confirmed, it is time to discuss our strategy. Do not feel pressured; speak your minds freely." As he spoke, the Commander withdrew his gaze and looked apologetically at the 5th Fleet hunters standing at the end of the long table, including Caly and the Ace Cadet. "I'm sorry, boys. We haven't given you enough time to adjust to the New World before throwing you into such a fierce conflict."
"Don't mention it, Commander," the Ace Cadet laughed heartily, showing no hint of fear. "Isn't this exactly why we accepted the commission? Protecting everyone is a hunter's duty. If anything, having such a heart-pounding battle right after stepping onto the New World has me fired up!"
"That's right, Commander! We're the ones who are going to become the Sapphire Star!" another Recommended Hunter added with a laugh, likely recalling the Commander's speech from the previous night.
"Well, courage is a good thing in youth, but as your senior, I must remind you: Asterion is completely different from any monster you've encountered in the Old World." The Sword Master, who had been resting with his eyes closed and clutching his weathered Long Sword, suddenly spoke. He opened his eyes, his expression grim as he interrupted the young hunter.
"You must not underestimate him. Any tactic or trap you've used against Large Monsters in the past will be utterly useless against Asterion. No—it's better to say you cannot view him as a monster at all. He has his own thoughts and objectives, and he can even formulate and execute detailed plans to achieve them."
"...He sounds just like a human," one of the Recommended Hunters muttered instinctively. Unlike hunters like Caly who had special sources of information, even though he had heard scholars explain the unique nature of New World monsters on the trip over, it was hard to visualize something so specific.
"Precisely. A human—just one who isn't bound by the rules of the Kingdom or the Guild. You can think of him that way," the Sword Master said, nodding his helmet. "He possesses intelligence on par with humans, and is perhaps even smarter than many ordinary people."
The Sword Master's earnest and heavy warning made Mirrorblade, perched at the prow, feel like laughing for some reason. A puff of hot air escaped his massive nostrils. His mind couldn't help but recall his "father's" own assessment of him—that he was more like a human than a dragon.
The question was, did his father know that he appeared the same way in the eyes of the hunters?
It was quite ironic.
"Tch, everyone, hold on a second." Narrowing his one good eye, the Master Smithy of the 2nd Fleet clicked his tongue. "I have a question. Are we really going to engage Asterion in direct combat? Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not chickening out or trying to run away. I'm just considering the combat power Asterion displayed the last time he made a move. With our current strength, I don't see any chance of victory."
As the leader of the technical crews, no one was more qualified to question the logistics of the fight than the Master Smithy.
"Of course the goal isn't just to throw our lives away," answered a Wyverian Scholar who had been flipping through a thick parchment notebook. He looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I am sitting here because I hope that when you formulate the battle plan, you will avoid direct conflict with Asterion as much as possible. Try to abandon violent objectives like 'slaying' or 'repelling.' Instead, focus your energy on requesting, persuading, or moving him... basically, try to use friendly means to achieve our goal."
"...That sounds a lot harder than just hunting or repelling him," the Ace Cadet said, his sunny and optimistic expression faltering. His lip twitched.
As expected of the New World—even the quests were more complicated than back home.
With his mentor's guidance and the support of his comrades, he had gone from a rookie to a hunter who had stood on the brink of death against Elder Dragons and survived to complete the mission. But he could swear to the heavens that this was the first time in his life he'd heard of a battle plan against an Elder Dragon that involved "trying to have a heart-to-heart" or "emotionally moving" the creature.
How were they supposed to "move" him?
Should everyone throw down their weapons, sit around a campfire, and hold a banquet with a dragon larger than a small mountain?
How many barrels of ale does an Elder Dragon even drink?
Strange thoughts flooded his mind. He felt that instead of sending hunters for this task, they should probably send a group of scholars.
"I know it sounds absurd and difficult to execute, but Asterion... he really is different from other Elder Dragons." Even though the Ace Cadet didn't say anything, the Wyverian Scholar guessed his thoughts by the look on his face. He scratched his hair in frustration. "You must understand one thing: Asterion is not just a single individual. This is what makes him fundamentally different from other Large Monsters."
"To make an enemy of Asterion and initiate a fight means we make an enemy of the entire Glavenus Tribe. That isn't some scattered tribal band like the Gajalaka or the Melynx. The Glavenus Tribe can mobilize at least a thousand elite Grimalkyne warriors at any moment. That doesn't even include the Dragon-Chosen Warriors or the Abyssal Grimalkynes. Just imagine that scene: a sea of Grimalkynes swarming toward you, brandishing weapons..."
The so-called Abyssal Grimalkynes referred to the group led by Blackfruit that had undergone the "Blue" mutation. After becoming independent within the Glavenus Tribe, they had taken on this new name.
The newly arrived 5th Fleet hunters didn't have a concrete concept of what "Dragon-Chosen" or "Abyssal Grimalkynes" meant, so they weren't particularly afraid—the titles just sounded impressive. However, simply imagining thousands upon thousands of Lynians swarming and submerging them was enough to make their skin crawl.
Meanwhile, the veteran hunters who had spent decades struggling in the New World all turned pale. In a sense, going to war against that many Grimalkyne warriors—especially the specialized Dragon-Chosen and Abyssal types—was no easier than facing an Elder Dragon. In fact, it would be even harder to escape.
"That's right! The tribe stands unconditionally with the Boss, meow!" Kankan stood up on Mirrorblade's nose, drawing the short sword at his waist and waving it threateningly. "As Little Boss's partner, I'll definitely stand by him, meow! But don't you dare let the old Grimalkynes in the tribe know you have any intention of attacking the Boss, meow! They'll get furious, meow!! It'll be all over then, meow!!"
"Well, we certainly have to consider the reaction of the tribe," the Provisions Manager added immediately. "With our current manpower in the New World, the only reason Astera and the forward base can keep running is because we purchase massive amounts of supplies from the Glavenus Tribe. Those Grimalkynes also handle a huge portion of the transport work."
"Given the distance between the Old World and the New World, relying solely on the Guild's supply ships that come once every few months isn't nearly enough to meet the needs of this many people, let alone the resources required for investigations." The Provisions Manager sighed. "If we lose the help of the Glavenus Tribe because we started a war with Asterion, the entire Research Commission will fall into a total resource crisis in a very short time. It would be extremely dangerous."
"The Provisions Manager is right. Of course, setting aside strength and logistics, there is one more vital factor to consider—excluding the newcomers of the 5th Fleet, many hunters simply do not want to be enemies with the Glavenus Tribe. That includes many of you, correct?" The Wyverian Scholar looked toward the Admiral and the Commander.
"In this situation, it doesn't matter if our current strength is enough to repel Asterion or convince him to leave the New World. What matters is that starting a fight isn't even an option. The Kingdom and the Guild would never allow us to start a war with the local indigenous people."
Yes, a war.
When that heavy word hung in the air, everyone present held their breath. Throughout the long ages, under the constant pressure of monsters encroaching on the living space of humans and various demi-human races—like Wyverians and Lynians—that cruel word had rarely been used between them.
Everyone had the same singular purpose: to unite, play to their respective strengths, and survive in this world as long as possible to allow their species to flourish. There was no room for infighting, and certainly no need for it.
The atmosphere in the ship-council room grew cold and oppressive. Only the sound of the wind snapping against the five fleet flags broke the silence. No one spoke rashly; everyone was weighing the issues laid out by the scholar, the Provisions Manager, and the Sword Master.
"It feels like... the situation in the New World is even more complicated than back home," Caly said, rubbing her head in frustration. "I thought once I stepped onto the New World, I'd just have to focus on investigating and hunting all sorts of exotic creatures. I didn't expect there would be such complex politics to worry about."
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