Scorching currents of air rolled silently through the Geothermal Corridor.
Following that brief yet destructive exchange, splashes of lava had merged with shattered Bio-crystals, radiating a dull red glow as they slowly lost their heat.
Mirrorblade pointed every metaphorical finger at Asterion, looking like a detective who had just discovered the culprit and was unveiling the mystery. His eyes were filled with an unbelievable mix of rage and confusion. He glared at Asterion as if staring at a mortal enemy—at the mastermind and murderer he had identified, a conclusion already confirmed by the very source of his power.
Amidst Mirrorblade's deafening roars, Asterion finally understood what the kid was babbling about and why he had suddenly flown into a frenzy. As he moved his body, the Bio-crystals on his skin rubbed together with a grinding sound. Asterion's face, which was far too hard to convey much expression, took on a look of sudden realization.
"Roar." (Oh, you mean that?)
Case closed. Mystery solved.
Mirrorblade: "?"
Asterion's reaction was far too calm—so calm it lacked any ripple of emotion or attempt at pretense. It was as if he had just heard something as trivial as "What's for dinner?" But it was precisely this eerie tranquility and nonchalance that acted like a bucket of ice water poured over Mirrorblade's boiling rage, making it even harder for him to accept. He felt a surge of renewed fury—how can you have no reaction at all to my anger?!
It's one thing to eat rocks, but is your heart made of stone too?!
The hunters of Astera regard you as the smartest Elder Dragon, and the most friendly toward humanity! Is this how you repay their trust?!
Before descending into these depths, Mirrorblade had envisioned this confrontation with his father countless times.
He had imagined his old man might show a happy expression upon hearing he had unintentionally caused such a terrible disaster, delighting in his own power. Or perhaps he'd express a belated sense of guilt or apology. He'd even prepared for a scenario where his father angrily refuted the accusations to defend himself.
Mirrorblade could have accepted any emotional response. But this—this level of indifference, acting as if nothing had happened, as natural and trivial as breathing—was the one thing Mirrorblade found utterly unacceptable and chilling.
A monster. Even though hunters habitually called any large wyvern a "monster," Mirrorblade had never felt a truer urge to call his own father one until he truly understood the weight of the word.
A cold, unfeeling monster.
"Roar!" (Oh? Just "oh"?!!)
Mirrorblade was about to explode. His muscles trembled uncontrollably from extreme rage, and his heavy breath puffed out visible white mist into the air.
"Roar?" (What else? Were you expecting me to burst into tears?)
Asterion was bored enough to let out a yawn. His deep blue eyes, like two burning torches, looked down coldly from his height at Mirrorblade, who was much smaller than him. His low growl echoed through the Geothermal Corridor, carrying for the first time the arrogance and indifference unique to an Elder Dragon that stood above all living things.
"Roar, roar roar." (You've got one thing wrong, kid. I'm not destroying this world. I don't even have the power to destroy it, nor would I destroy the New World.)
Asterion tilted his head slightly, a faint blue light flowing between the gaps of his scales.
"Roar roar roar roar." (As for the things you mentioned... they are merely natural changes. I am bringing this continent to a new height, and along the way, allowing the life forms of the New World to enter a new realm of existence.)
"Roar." (So, don't mention it.)
For a moment, the only sound in the Geothermal Corridor was the flowing of the lava river. The Bio-crystals on the surrounding cliffs flickered with an increasingly obvious blue light, pulsing in sync with Mirrorblade's heavy breathing. That frantic flickering was the only proof that Mirrorblade's heart was anything but calm.
To be honest, Mirrorblade had simulated several scenarios in his head before coming here. He had even tried to find excuses for Asterion. Perhaps his father was innocent; perhaps he couldn't control this power and was also a victim of the Bio-energy.
Or perhaps his father had simply done these things by accident, and once he realized the profound damage he had caused to the Ancient Forest, he would immediately correct his ways and never stray again.
Of course, given the absolute, uncompromising attitude Asterion usually showed toward him, Mirrorblade had also prepared for the worst.
He had considered that his father might be acting cruelly despite knowing his actions would kill many innocent lives—that he would show no remorse when confronted and might even be addicted to this meaningless slaughter, taking pride in a violent power that dominated life and death.
Mirrorblade had considered many possibilities, but he had never imagined this one. He hadn't expected his father to frankly admit that he was the source of it all, yet completely deny that he was massacring life on the surface. Asterion didn't think he was doing anything wrong; instead, he viewed it as a gift to all life in the New World.
He was helping the New World evolve?
Ha! Evolve?!
Looking at Asterion's bored gaze, Mirrorblade found it utterly absurd. What's with that "it's only natural" look? What's with that faint smirk? What's with that pride?!
"Roar?" (Still don't understand?)
Mirrorblade's increasingly tense posture and defensive stance gave Asterion a bit of a headache. He let out a long breath, wondering how to communicate with this fool of a son to make him realize where the problem actually lay and what kind of mistake he was making.
"Roar roar." (Sigh. You've stayed too close to those humans for too long. To the point where you don't even seem like a dragon anymore.)
For a split second, Asterion felt as if time were a loop. He felt a sense of "disappointment in one's offspring" that he seemed to recall hearing from parents back when he was still a human in his previous life.
"Roar roar roar roar." (Think about your perspective, your mindset, your mood... are those the results of your own thinking? Or are they theories human scholars have spent countless years summarizing and then told to you? Aside from this massive physical body, what difference is there between your inner self and a human? But in the end, you aren't one of them. You can never become human.)
Asterion knew exactly where the difference between Mirrorblade and himself lay. This kid was indeed gifted; he had inherited a powerful body far surpassing ordinary monsters or even some Elder Dragons, along with a very complex brain. But the tragedy lay there as well: Mirrorblade hadn't inherited the knowledge Asterion had acquired in his previous life. He didn't understand just how complex the concepts of good and evil were for an animal like a human.
That knowledge was the true root that allowed Asterion to establish himself in this cruel world and grow to his current, incredible state. Similarly, it was the primary factor that shaped Asterion's worldview and style of action.
"Roar!!" (So what?!!)
Because of this lack of information, Mirrorblade—who was effectively in a "honeymoon phase" with humanity—couldn't understand what Asterion was saying. He let out an unwilling roar, resisting Asterion's argument.
"Roar roar!" (At least I have partners! I have companions who trust me with all their hearts!!)
How tiresome.
Asterion felt genuinely drained. He never expected that classic lines from a hot-blooded shonen manga would one day be shouted at him—positioning him as some kind of villain.
And Mirrorblade was the protagonist of this manga: a standard, hot-blooded idiot. Charging in front of him to argue about "courage," "passion," and "bonds."
In a sense, in Asterion's eyes, Mirrorblade was currently walking steadfastly down the very path Asterion had tried so hard to avoid years ago. Even if Asterion didn't care anymore, Mirrorblade wasn't him; he didn't possess Asterion's world-ending power.
"Roar, roar." (Yes, you have partners... sounds lovely. But have you seriously thought about how long you will live? And how long your partners will live?)
"Roar, roar roar roar?" (In terms of raw power, you are indeed stronger than humans right now. Even Dragonators are just toys to you. That is why the current humans choose to be friendly and help you. But what about the humans of the future?)
"Roar roar roar?" (What about the humans who aren't your partners, who don't know you, and who will never trust you? What about humans a hundred or a thousand years from now? When human weaponry has advanced enough to kill you, what do you think they will do?)
With a cold snort, Asterion felt that Mirrorblade's years of training had been wasted. He hadn't suffered enough; his battles hadn't been hard or intense enough. Or perhaps he had simply lost himself in the humans' praise and calls of "partner," falling in love with the feeling of being invincible.
"Roar?" (Power strong enough? Humans who can kill me?)
Mirrorblade shook his head violently, trying to shake off the dizziness and discomfort Asterion's words were causing him. He tilted his head back and let out a contemptuous roar.
"Roar roar! Roar roar roar!" (Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Even if the most elite hunters fought me in ten teams simultaneously, they wouldn't be my match! I'm not like those clumsy monsters! Even my partners couldn't beat me—they're too fragile!)
Even if he could never beat his own father, Mirrorblade had his pride!
Being defeated by a human was as humiliating for a dragon as being defeated by an Uncle Kulu-Ya-Ku! So, it was absolutely impossible!
"Roar?" (Dragonators?)
Asterion mentioned them casually. He knew full well that the archaeology of humans in this world could dig up many "goodies" far more dangerous than a toy like a Dragonator.
"Roar!" (Simple weapons like those could never hit me! Don't underestimate my agility!)
"Roar." (That's why I'm talking about the humans of the future... You don't understand humans at all. You don't understand how fast a technical explosion can advance.)
Mirrorblade's naive and arrogant answer made Asterion increasingly disappointed.
"Roar roar, roar roar roar." (Think back. Even compared to fifty years ago, human weapons and technology have more than doubled in power. What if you give them another fifty years? A hundred? Two hundred?)
"Roar roar roar." (The humans of today choose to be friendly to you, but will the humans of the future?)
"Roar, roar roar roar." (You love staying with humans so much; you must have seen the Aptonoths in Astera, right? They pull carts and carry goods for humans, and they provide food for humans. That is the fate of a dragon whose power has been suppressed by humanity.)
"Roar roar." (Wait until their weapons develop further and their power increases. You will be the next one to be tamed—ha, actually, I think you've already been tamed by them.)
BOOM!!
Asterion's merciless words undoubtedly enraged Mirrorblade further. As if venting, he turned violently and slammed his heavy, Bio-crystal-covered tail into the hard rock layer. The impact made the crystal clusters rattle and fall, an attempt to drown out Asterion's voice.
He couldn't stand his father's words, nor could he stomach this viewpoint.
"Roar!" (I don't understand humans?!)
Mirrorblade almost laughed in anger.
"Roar roar! Roar roar roar!" (I've lived among humans for thirty years! I know what makes them happy and what makes them sad! I understand their jokes! And you? What kind of communication have you ever had with them?! You're the one who doesn't understand humans!)
Asterion... was becoming a bit too tired to speak. Too tired to argue, too tired to convince. Even if the one standing opposite him was Mirrorblade, his own flesh and blood, he didn't want to reveal the secret of his reincarnation or his human soul. To this day, Mirrorblade didn't even know his true name was Asterion. No dragon in the New World knew this absurd secret.
He decided to try one last thing, a different approach.
"Roar roar, roar." (Did you know? In the extremely distant past—maybe tens of millions, no, hundreds of millions of years ago—the Ancient Forest you cherish so much likely wasn't a forest at all. Back then, primitive plants without true leaves or roots occupied the surface of the world. They were called psilophytes.)
Asterion was clearly applying the history of Earth's evolution from his previous life to the background of the New World. He was simply telling Mirrorblade a story.
A Dragon's Parable.
Since you won't listen to reason, I'll wrap it in a rare story. Maybe you'll listen now?
————
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