Unable to endure any longer, the massive fish beneath the water suddenly leaped upward. Beneath its golden dorsal fin were dark cyan scales; the scales along its flanks also gleamed gold, while its belly was snow-white. Broad pectoral fins spread like wings, followed by a pair of long, powerful legs.
Wait—legs?
In that instant, Logan thought something was wrong with his eyes. Only when the creature flapped its pectoral fins and charged toward him on those legs did realization dawn.
Damn it! I hooked a Lavasioth!
As a Piscine Wyvern species that lived long-term in water—where buoyancy reduced gravitational pressure, allowing extreme enlargement—Lavasioth weren't harmless big fish. They were dangerous monsters.
They could grow to an astonishing 23 meters or more, standing over 10 meters tall on their hind legs—surpassing 90% of Flying Wyverns. Their glassy, iridescent scales offered immense defense. The high-pressure water beams they spat could slice through armor and stone with ease. Thin pectoral, dorsal, and tail fins were razor-sharp and laced with paralyzing venom.
This was no easy prey—especially in its home field: the water.
Logan's instinct was to drop the line in his mouth, grab Zhu Peiniang, and make a strategic retreat. He'd come back stronger later to settle the score.
But then he realized: if this were a full-grown Lavasioth over 20 meters, he and Zhu Peiniang's smaller frames would have been yanked into the water long ago. They couldn't have held out this long.
Looking again at the charging Lavasioth—imposing as it was—its size wasn't that massive. Just over 10 meters. Still a juvenile.
This steadied Logan instantly. He released the line from his jaws, sprang forward with all four limbs, and charged straight at it. Bark flew in chunks. His extended arm blades flashed coldly in the sunlight, cleanly severing dry branches along the way, leaving smooth cross-sections.
The next moment, he collided hard with the Lavasioth that had leaped onto the Ancient Tree. A thunderous boom echoed as hard scales scraped together, producing a teeth-grinding screech.
Logan felt a heavy thud in his chest. Web-like cracks bloomed across his pristine white scales. But the Lavasioth fared worse—yellow scales scattered everywhere, revealing large bloody gashes.
His lighter weight put him at a disadvantage in the impact; his body slid backward involuntarily. But powerful limbs compensated—sharp claws dug deep into the trunk, halting him instantly.
He reared up on hind legs and swung his developed right foreclaw viciously at the Lavasioth's shark-like head, covered in large scales.
The Lavasioth reacted swiftly, tilting its head up. The claw tips grazed its jaw—but Logan's arm blade snapped out unexpectedly, extending the attack range and slashing deep into its cheek.
The layered, self-sharpening blade was jagged like broken glass, sharper than a scalpel. Even the Lavasioth's highly defensive scales couldn't resist; a long gash opened.
Blood flowed immediately. Pain enraged the Lavasioth; its dorsal fin stood erect. It opened its mouth to fire a high-pressure water beam—but the bone shuttle lodged in its throat blocked the flow, forcing it to snap downward instead.
Logan's keen hearing caught faint cracking from the Lavasioth's throat—the Aptonoth femur wouldn't hold much longer. Plus, its knife-like pectoral fins could sever the line at any moment. He needed to end this fast.
He let its massive jaws clamp onto one shoulder. Triangular shark-like fangs scraped his enamel scales, even sparking faintly. But along with the sparks came bursts of blue-white arcs.
The close-range shock made the Lavasioth's head jerk back instinctively, preventing it from fully biting down.
At that moment, Logan's long tail coiled around one of its legs. He yanked hard with all limbs.
The bipedal giant fish already had poor balance; it toppled instantly, crashing heavily onto the Ancient Tree and snapping large dry branches.
Before it could struggle up, Logan leaped onto its thick neck. His massive foreclaws hammered relentlessly at its head—each blow carrying over three tons of force, accompanied by intense current—dazing it completely, as if its brains were spilling out.
Zhu Peiniang seized the chance, clawing at the softer belly. Her developing hooked claws extended under electricity, stabbing like scimitars into scale gaps and tearing outward.
Large chunks of scales were ripped free, exposing bloody skin beneath. Another swipe pierced thick hide and flesh, opening deep gashes.
Agonizing pain snapped the Lavasioth back; it thrashed wildly. Powerful pectoral fins and broad tail flailed, repeatedly striking Logan and Zhu Peiniang.
By now, primal ferocity had been aroused in all three by the blood. They refused to yield. Electricity flared intensely across their bodies as they endured the struggles and pressed fiercer attacks.
The three colossal beasts tangled in savage melee—the most primitive, bloody slaughter.
Claws slashed, currents surged, sharp fangs glinted coldly, razor fins sliced air. Blood mixed with dangerous venom splattered everywhere.
Soon, Logan and Zhu Peiniang's scales bore numerous cuts and bruises, blood trickling in crimson trails. But the Lavasioth pinned beneath them suffered worse—hardly an intact scale remained; its body was covered in torn wounds.
As the fight dragged on, stamina drained under electricity and paralyzing toxin, movements slowing. Ultimately, Logan's evolved toxin resistance proved superior. Seizing an opening, he drove his sharp tail spike deep into the Lavasioth's eye socket.
Black nutrient fluid and clear brain matter flowed out. The Lavasioth shuddered violently, then went completely limp—no more movement.
Logan released his fangs from its spine, exhaling deeply. A faint blue text flashed before his eyes:
Hunted Lavasioth. Evolution points +5.
(End of Chapter 33)