"Who am I?"
This question haunted the unfamiliar consciousness. He—or she—remembered many things: towering, block-like buildings that seemed to stretch vertically, and speeding steel vehicles. He knew what they were, and he knew their names.
Yet, these memories felt like stored text or images, devoid of personal existence or firsthand perception. He knew what the colorful bottles in people's hands contained, their ingredients, whether they were sweet or salty, down to details beyond words. But he had never experienced their taste. The disconnect between memory and body left this unfamiliar consciousness adrift in the murky fluid, deeply troubled.
"What am I?"
This question was equally difficult to answer. There were no eyes, no arms—oh, he knew what eyes were, and he knew what arms were, but he had never felt their existence firsthand. So, what was he? And where did these memories come from?
These questions lingered in the unfamiliar consciousness until the murky world began to shake and tremble. A massive shadow loomed outside this turbid realm, resembling a claw. Then, cracks appeared amidst the shaking, and light burst forth. The murky, fragrant liquid gushed out from the fissures, and a rough, pinkish thing greedily licked at the cracks. A hard, beak-like structure covered in large black spots continuously tapped against it, trying to obtain more of the viscous fluid.
"Whoosh~" A sound like the howl of wind, or perhaps the sharp noise of some volatile gaseous substance shooting out from countless tiny nozzles, filled the air. A slender, terrifying shadow with powerful wind pressure descended over the tree hollow.
Amber dragon eyes coldly observed the giant tree. The long neck and blade-like, razor-sharp tail were taut in a straight line. Wings, unlike those of any other wyvern, spread flat on either side. Countless thin, leaf-like, yet extremely sharp "spines," distinct from those of other dragon species, trembled rapidly along the sides of its body, taming the passing air currents with precision.
Unlike any other dragon species, the blade-like horns lay flat, emitting a crimson glow. A large amount of oxygen rushed into the air cavities beneath its body through the tiny openings along its neck and abdomen. Compressed by muscles as strong as steel, the oxygen flowed into the strange, leaf-like wings through the thick, vein-like wing spars. Then, that sharp, terrifying sound rang out once more, and the comet-like entity, trailing six crimson flames, swooped down with devastating force...
The incessant pecking of the bird-like beak ceased, and its murky pupils revealed unmistakable fear. It stirred uneasily, wanting to flee, but the rare delicacy in its claws held it back to some extent. In its hesitation, with a deafening roar, the upper half of the giant tree exploded. The jet-black monster folded its wings, its amber dragon eyes filled with a murderous gleam. "Roar~!"
"Screech!" The bird-like dragon let out a sharp cry, frantically fluffing its feathers to appear larger and more intimidating. Yet, compared to the ancient dragon, whose head-to-tail length exceeded 25 meters, no matter how much it postured, it was nothing more than a weak, helpless chick.
"Roar!" The dragon's roar, accompanied by its wind pressure, immediately plunged the bird-like dragon into panic and dizziness. It was swiftly struck down by the dragon's wings, which folded together like a massive sword. As a species that primarily fed on aquatic creatures, its teeth and mouth were relatively small and ill-suited for tearing through thick scales. However, this did not hinder the dragon's wings, as hard and sharp as greatswords, from leaving a long, deep gash across its body.
Then, the amber dragon eyes turned toward the tree hollow. "Roar!"
The dragon's wings plunged into the body of the bird-like dragon, lifting it high into the air before flipping the wing surfaces. A torrent of flames erupted, tearing the corpse into pieces. This was not for feeding but for venting rage. The ancient dragon's roar echoed across the wasteland, and after releasing its fury, the massive wyvern spread its wings and took off, vanishing into the sky with six crimson trails of flame.
"Chirp chirp?" A soft, tiny creature tore through the egg membrane and crawled out. Its amber eyes, equally bewildered, gazed at the scattered remains before it. However, hunger quickly pushed aside all its confusion, and it focused entirely on the carcass, pecking at the relatively soft internal organs. The lingering presence of the ancient dragon continued to intimidate any unwelcome intruders, ensuring they dared not enter the small tree hollow.
"Whoosh~" A burly figure descended from above, landing in front of the tree hollow. "There are many strange traces here," a girl's voice chimed in. "And I've never seen this kind of scale before." The dark blue-black scales had a peculiar sheen, faintly glowing with a hint of cyan-blue. "There are scorch marks—could it be a fire dragon species?"
"I don't know," the burly man replied, crouching down. He pulled out a leather-covered metal tube from his back and carefully scraped the charred marks into it with a small knife.
"Wait, there's movement over there," the girl said. Hearing her, the burly man unsheathed a greatsword made of bone, teeth, and metal from his back. He pushed aside the broken wood and tangled branches blocking the tree hollow. "It's a hatchling," he said, spotting a dark blue-black creature curled up in the corner.
"So, are these carcasses of the bird-like dragons for feeding?" the girl asked, scraping off some fragments from the corpse that could serve as analytical samples. She then pulled out a sketchpad and quickly began drawing the wounds and condition of the body.
"Do we need to capture it?" the man asked, pulling out a tranquilizer dart. The girl pondered for a moment. "No, it's better not to. And we should leave here as soon as possible. If the mother dragon returns..."
Hunters are not reckless brutes. Engaging in combat with an unfamiliar dragon species is an extremely unwise move, especially during its nurturing period. Such dragons are not easily frightened or driven away by normal attacks and become far more ferocious and aggressive in battle.
Moreover, hunters are not butchers. They oppose monsters, coexist with them, and rely on them for survival—this is the fundamental state and principle of the world. The colossal beasts, strange birds, and bizarre dragon species share this world with humans. Their corpses form new ecosystems, their bones gather rich metals, and eventually transform into protruding crystals and metallic masses. New life grows, thrives, and dies again on these remains, and this cycle is the essence of the world.
Hunters are the ones who maintain this cycle and reincarnation. They also obtain resources from this cycle to sustain human society. They are not mere butchers nor pure killers. They only hunt the permitted number of prey and intervene to maintain ecological balance when necessary, driving away or hunting species that exceed the local ecosystem's capacity. The forest is their granary, the wilderness their farmland. With swords and bows, they till the land of flesh and blood, gathering materials, food, labor, and wealth—this is the existence and life of a hunter.
In any world, hunters abide by certain unwritten rules:
First, do not kill pregnant females.
Second, do not kill young animals.
Third, do not hunt during the breeding season.
These rules are not only for protecting the hunters' safety (as such actions would provoke extreme aggression from the mothers or males) but also for preserving the last shred of humanity in the act of killing. Most importantly, they are essential for sustaining their livelihoods and ensuring the continuation of their profession—a reflection of their professional ethics.
It cannot be said that everyone absolutely adheres to these rules, as there are always greedy individuals who violate the taboos. However, such hunters can hardly be called qualified, nor can they be considered ones who "live long" and sustainably take from the forests and wilderness without facing retribution.
Thus, under the restraint of their companions, they did not take any action against the young flying dragon species curled up in the corner—especially since its mother was likely nearby. As the Swooping Bird Brother could attest: even a hunter's greatsword could not have inflicted such a terrifying wound.
However, the arrival and departure of the hunters had little impact on the young dragon. Although its mind was filled with many things it knew but could not understand, and many images of humans, its life form was ultimately not human. It was a flying dragon with a slender neck and a sharp tail. Even as a newborn, its small but exceptionally sharp teeth were capable of tearing off enough flesh to fill its stomach.
Although its life is that of a dragon, it is ultimately different from ordinary dragons. After satisfying its hunger once again, it did not succumb to the demands of instinct and continue to sleep idly. Instead, it was curious about what it was and needed to know its identity. No one had told it what it was or what it should do beyond following its instincts. Thus, it decided to explore this question based on the memories it held.
The young creature spread its tender wings, which resembled tattered leaves and were incapable of flight, not even gliding. It had not consumed enough crystal stones, nor had it reached the necessary age for growth. Its delicate wings had not yet been truly tempered, nor had they developed the bony wing plates capable of withstanding temperatures of over a thousand degrees. It had not yet broken its wing bones or stretched its ligaments in battle or under its mother's guidance, allowing its wings to freely rotate more than 270 degrees.
The soft tubes beneath its skin, stretching from the front of its throat to the tips of its wings, were still very tender. Moreover, its dragon energy orb—soft, small, and not yet deserving the name "jade"—had not accumulated enough combustible liquid. This orb, formed from the high-energy substances extracted from its digestive system after consuming large quantities of marine fish, especially whales, was still far from fully developed.
Under the influence of special chemical reactions within its body, it would transform into a large amount of gaseous matter mixed with bodily fluids, which would then be injected into the soft tubes. After inhaling a significant amount of air and forcefully compressing it with its muscles, the rising temperature would eventually ignite the crimson dragon flames, which would shoot out from the wing plates, propelling it into the sky...
As a destroyer of ecosystems, referred to by humans as a moving natural disaster, it would, upon reaching adulthood, need to consume food equivalent to nearly three times its body weight in calories and fat each day. It would even hunt sea dragons and fish dragons, making it a terrifying fish slaughtering machine for any human fishing village. However, as a balance, it also possessed the means to fly over considerable distances in a short time, preventing itself from starving due to over-hunting in a confined area.
But that is a matter for the future. For now, it is still a young creature dependent on its parents for sustenance. The corpse of the Swooping Bird is enough to feed it for a while. However, the absence of its "mother" until now has led the young dragon to realize something. It must give sufficient thought to its future meals and devise an appropriate strategy, and that strategy is...
At the New World Research Commission camp, another hunter was brought back, covered in dust, by an Aptonoth. Such scenes were not uncommon; there were always overly confident young hunters who would challenge powerful monsters and end up being carted back. More often, hunters would fall victim to "jungle love" during routine investigations and material gathering. However, this case was different.
"Are you absolutely sure you brought rations?"
"I'm absolutely sure I brought rations!" Not only did he bring rations, but he also took a large portion of "cat food" from the canteen. "But when I returned to the camp, there was nothing left—not a single thing, not even the plates! Which hunter could be so ruthless?"
"Are you sure it wasn't monsters? Like Black Aptonoth or the Gajalaka?"
"Impossible. I spread scent repellent, set traps, and installed alarms. Most importantly, the Gajalaka couldn't have opened the crates or found the supplies I hid so securely!"
Of course, no one would have imagined the existence of such a monster: like most Elder Dragons, even its young possess formidable physical strength and power. Yet, it lacks the aggressive temperament typical of most Elder Dragons and is unaffected by the Frenzy Virus. Moreover, it is familiar with humans, understands them, and thus, it followed this hunter, memorized his movements, and deduced the location of the camp...
Finally, on a quiet night, as the unfortunate hunter dragged his exhausted body back to camp, looking forward to a hearty meal, the creature stealthily infiltrated the camp. Unlike other monsters that leave chaos in their wake, it skillfully found the key hidden under the pillow, painstakingly unlocked the chest with its claws, and pushed open the lid—what followed was only natural.
When the unlucky hunter returned to camp, not only was the warm cat food in the oven gone, but even the rations in the chest had vanished. Starving and bewildered, the hunter stared at the empty camp and supply chest. Without traps or ammunition, he was inevitably carted back by the Aptonoth the next day, becoming the most baffling casualty in the entire Research Commission.
However, soon another even more unfortunate hunter was brought back. Somehow, he had been caught by a completely unmarked and extremely well-hidden paralysis trap—right in the middle of coordinating with his companions to corner a Barroth. One of his legs was crushed, but thankfully, the humans here had remarkable regenerative abilities, and their medical technology was far more advanced than it appeared on the surface. While he avoided permanent disability, he was inevitably confined to a bed for a long, long time.