Wind leaves traces, geese leave calls—how much more so a behemoth weighing tens, even hundreds, of tons? The marks it left were simply too numerous.
Logan trailed the Black Diablos's path. His thick paws trod the gradually warming, scorching yellow earth. Thoughts tangled chaotically in his mind.
In his former human world, the largest land herbivorous mammal was the African elephant—weighing 5 to 7 tons, consuming 150 to 300 kg of food daily, about 4% to 6% of body weight.
By that logic, even conservatively estimating the Diablos at 50 tons, it would need at least 2.5 tons of food per day. In the barren Wildspire Waste, could there really be enough cacti to sustain it? Those plants, mostly water—did they provide enough energy for such a massive body's daily needs?
Logan pondered: cacti likely weren't its primary energy source, perhaps only supplying organics, water, and vitamins.
The true energy might come from so-called leyline energy—or maybe it literally ate rocks. Otherwise, why would a winged Flying Wyvern spend all its time underground? Shy?
Mind wandering with wild ideas, Logan's feet never stopped. He crossed gobi and rocky hills. Along the way, low shrubs, cacti, and cylindrical sand-mound fortresses appeared sporadically.
Those were transporter ant nests. These thumb-sized ants had incredible building talent; their large anthills often exceeded 10 meters. Deep in the Wildspire Waste, some super-sized ones reportedly reached hundreds of meters—like skyscrapers or small hills.
From afar, Logan spotted a black "balloon" drifting toward a large anthill. Closer, it was a Paolumu.
A medium-small monster around 10 meters long. Though a Flying Wyvern, it resembled a flying giant rat: bat-like head with round ears, black fur covering its body, flat beaver-like tail, and wings similar to a Paolumu's.
Most unique was its neck—strong muscles and elastic skin that could inflate with massive air, ballooning far beyond its body size.
Logan watched the Paolumu wobble down, press its head to an anthill base hole, and blow hard. Its ballooned neck deflated instantly. High-speed airflow whistled through the complex nest like a steam whistle.
In a flash, transporter ants sprayed out like pouring rain—dense black sesame on a golden pancake.
Logan didn't interrupt its meal. The creature had little offense beyond sleep gas for defense—no threat to him, no ecological competition.
He continued following the Black Diablos's traces. Protruding massive rocks increased, forming rolling small hills. But here, scent and footprints abruptly ended. Before him: a huge deep pit sloping downward—pitch black, bottomless.
No doubt—it had burrowed again. Sniffing the thick Diablos scent from the pit, Logan hesitated briefly, then cautiously entered.
He knew this wasn't wise. In such narrow underground confines, if the entrance collapsed, escape would be impossible. And tunnel stability was worrying—he lacked the Diablos's burrowing ability.
But curiosity doesn't reason. It's an invisible force driving creatures down seemingly suicidal paths.
Logan advanced slowly in the dim burrow, alertly scanning surroundings. His highly evolved eyes saw clearly in the gloom. Inaudible sound waves spread from his slightly open mouth—like sonar—probing for dangers.
Hard rock underfoot brought rare coolness through his paws. Solid stone walls and ceiling reassured yet puzzled: how did Diablos excavate such passages?
This tunnel wound almost entirely through solid bedrock. Even in his advanced-tech previous world, it would be a massive project—hundreds of people, explosives, heavy machinery.
If Diablos mined or tunneled in his old world, it'd make a fortune.
Mind buzzing with random thoughts to ease tension, Logan pressed on. No dangers encountered. After minutes, the tunnel widened into a vast underground cavern.
Nearly 200 meters long, over 70 wide—spacious and bright, refreshing his view.
The cavern seemed formed from giant boulder crevices. Looking up, narrow slits let sunlight stream in as colorful pillars.
One glance—Logan instantly loved it. Perfect nest: hidden, solid, bright, vast—no flaws. Except the Black Diablos sprawled in the corner.
Through golden dust motes, its colossal form lay on soft sand. Breathing rippled its chest, stirring faint air waves.
"This place is perfect! Gotta figure out how to evict that Black Diablos."
Logan crouched in entrance shadows, flexing claws silently. Underground dwellers like Diablos were vibration-sensitive—now wasn't the time to alert it.
Soon, an idea struck.
For a soon-to-lay Black Diablos, what's most important? A safe, hidden den to protect eggs.
If he charged now and harassed persistently afterward—would it deem the place unsafe, abandon it, and seek elsewhere?
High chance of success. But with its temper—one berserk rampage could collapse the cavern. Risky.
(End of Chapter 37)