Dozens of quintuple-mounted cannons fired simultaneously, accompanied by a continuous barrage of armor-piercing bolts launched from ballistae. The front limbs of Zorah Magdaros were rapidly swallowed by a blazing sea of explosions.
Along with a long, drawn-out howl of pain, Zorah Magdaros had no choice but to retract its forelimbs. Stimulated by the pain, it instinctively took two steps back, allowing the pass—which had beco sowhat deford after being shoved by trendous force—to recover its original shape.
On the pass, the hunters who had regained their footing crossed over magma that had yet to fully solidify and swiftly tallied the equipnt damaged by Zorah Magdaros’s latest charge. Anything that could be repaired was repaired imdiately; anything that could not was pushed straight off the pass to reduce the structural load.
One Felyne after another hugged cannonballs and rapidly loaded them into the cannons. The hunters adjusted the barrels, aid at Zorah Magdaros’s head, and waited for the Commander’s next order.
While the fighting on the pass was raging at full intensity, the battle on little Loren’s side likewise entered a white-hot stage.
It had to be said that the space at the Everstream entrance was still not large enough. With two Elder Dragons flying at high speed, there was practically no room to maneuver. Little Loren finally managed to open up so distance, but after flying straight into a dead end, he had no choice but to turn, thereby giving little Nergigante the chance to close in.
Although the distance between the two sides was still relatively safe, the ti left for little Loren to attack was greatly reduced. And little Nergigante was the type that simply did not care at all—when facing little Loren’s attacks, it had no intention of dodging whatsoever, lowering its head and charging straight ahead without hesitation.
Against this kind of brainless fighting style, after battling for long enough, the heart would grow very tired.
What little Loren did not know was that little Nergigante’s heart was even more exhausted!
Inexperienced as it was, this was the first ti it had encountered a speed-type Elder Dragon like little Loren. With a single flap of its wings, Loren was monstrously fast, and even after giving it everything, little Nergigante still could not catch up.
It could only rely on the single breath of determination in its chest, gritting its teeth as it chased behind the opponent, eating exhaust.
Those annoying Radiant Crystal Butterflies would also occasionally self-detonate, blasting away the black spikes that it had painstakingly induced from white spikes by expending life energy, causing it to nearly lose balance in midair several tis.
The most annoying thing of all was that scorching hot dust that was everywhere.
Little Nergigante was still too small. Its internal organs were still immature, and its resistance to elental energy had not yet reached a peak state. For ordinary Elder Dragons, they could use a thod of counterbalancing elental energy to deal with the scorching hot dust they inhaled.
But little Nergigante could only rely on Regeneration to forcefully endure it. From ti to ti, it even had to hold its breath, letting its airways—burning with pain—recover a bit.
This kind of battle was, for it, truly a form of tornt.
"How can there be such a disgusting dragon in the world! Once I catch you, I’ll definitely chew you to pieces completely!!"
Swearing to itself in secret, a surge of anger rushed to its head, making little Nergigante once again begin to exert itself without caring about anything.
Sensing the other side’s state, little Loren—who had originally still been receiving the life energy transmitted by the Radiant Crystal Butterflies—gave his wings a shake. The Radiant Crystal Butterflies on his scales simultaneously scattered a large amount of scale powder. Under the pull of the calamity fla coiling around little Loren, it rapidly ford a blue-purple high-temperature burst zone.
Little Nergigante, unable to brake in ti, plunged straight in headfirst.
Along with a huge explosion, little Nergigante—its body spines shattering once again—trembled as it flew out. The bleeding wounds on its body healed at high speed.
A dragon roar full of extrely foul cursing burst from little Nergigante’s mouth. Carrying unwillingness and provocation, it echoed continuously through this space.
However, in the face of this dragon roar, little Loren was completely unmoved.
The Fla Rathalos had once taught him during a certain joint hunt: when facing the provocation of an opponent who was already at a disadvantage, only those low-bloodline ordinary monsters would charge up without caring about anything. But for high-ecological-niche Elder Dragon-class creatures with intelligence like them, they would continue to use their own advantages and keep maintaining the upper hand in battle.
This was the benefit of having civilization—it gave high-ecological-niche creatures that clearly had decent intelligence the desire to think, rather than fighting foolishly, purely like children.
Therefore, toward little Nergigante’s dragon roar—learned from the brief combat instruction its own "mother" had given back then—little Loren was not moved in the slightest.
He fought however he should fight, and could even conveniently toss little Nergigante a few calamity fla fireballs to shut it up.
Seeing that little Loren truly was not moved, little Nergigante could only flap its wings again in frustration, reopening the "you chase, I run" kind of battle.
...
At the pass, after three consecutive rounds of cannon attacks stopped Zorah Magdaros’s charge, the second round of the Dragonator was loaded once again.
Upon receiving the Commander’s order, the hunters stopped loading the cannons, quickly found cover, and let Zorah Magdaros co over.
Already worked up, Zorah Magdaros saw that the cannon fire constantly bombarding its head suddenly disappear, and imdiately charged forward again without a second thought.
Estimating the distance, the Commander slowly raised his hand.
The hunters responsible for the Dragonator and the Dragonator cannon stared fixedly in this direction, gripping the handles in their hands, ready to exert force at any mont.
"Now!!"
Crack!
As the handle was pulled down, the Dragonator burst out from the muzzle at high speed, spinning violently.
Like a high-speed drill, amid a piercing screech and a shower of sparks, it forcibly bored through the thick basalt layer on Zorah Magdaros’s leg, pierced those astonishingly hard scales, and churned relentlessly through flesh and blood.
On the shaft of the weapon, inscriptions carved with ancient Wyverian alchemy shimred with light. As energy circulated, they resisted the destructive effects of Zorah Magdaros’s energy on the weapon itself, thereby ensuring its overall sharpness.
anwhile, the Dragonator cannon positioned higher up fired shell after shell tipped with spearheads into various points along Zorah Magdaros’s side.
Driven by the trendous thrust generated by the cannon chamber’s impact, the spearheads—engraved with powerful alchemical inscriptions—bit deep into Zorah Magdaros’s scales. As the fuses burned, the highly concentrated explosives hidden behind the spearheads detonated with a thunderous roar.
The massive explosions, combined with the searing pain transmitted from its leg, nearly caused Zorah Magdaros to topple onto its side.
The explosions from the Dragonator cannon also threw the energy within Zorah Magdaros’s body into imbalance. Under a chain reaction, the entire dragon was wracked with a pain as if it were splitting apart.
Seeing Zorah Magdaros howl in agony while its body continued to retreat, the Commander felt an overwhelming surge of exhilaration.
Yes!
This was the feeling!
The feeling of humans driving back a super-giant Elder Dragon through machinery!
The sense of accomplishnt was absolutely maxed out!
Especially since this concerned the ecology of the entire New World, such an imnse sense of responsibility brought, in that instant, an incomparably abundant feeling of fulfillnt.
However, the Commander had weathered countless storms and was not facing a super-giant Elder Dragon for the first ti—last ti, he had even lost a leg.
Therefore, he quickly steadied his mind and continued issuing loading orders.
As long as Zorah Magdaros dared to assault the pass again, they would do it one more ti!
What the Commander did not know was that with just two consecutive rounds of Dragonator strikes, they had already shattered Zorah Magdaros’s will to keep going.
It was not that Zorah Magdaros was afraid. Rather, it knew very clearly that after two rounds, the life energy within its body was about to fall into extre imbalance. Even if it broke through the pass now, it would be unable to reach that place emitting the aura of life.
It gave up!
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