The hunter stood still; breathing heavily, the weight of his great sword tearing his arms from him. His face scared and blue eyes now more icey than oceanic. His yellow hair now seeming a long blooded trail that reached down the back of his deep red armour; the Rathalos scales and hide now unidentifiable while compared to the once silver metal lining said crimson. Kiri knew his hunt was nearly over, he saw the wyvern draw to it's full height. His target was another Rathalos; the supposed King of the Sky. A piercing roar escaped the red wyvern's lungs; Kiri gripped his ears tightly, completely overcome by the fear of becoming death's next victim. Shaking off the effects, Kiri ran forward as the Rathalos stared at him with weakened breath and pale near white eyes.

How exactly the great dragon had become so weak, and what it had done to need to die escaped its knowledge. Rathalos had a regular life, of feeding, eating, sleeping. This puny human had torn into it's flesh repeatedly and attempted to ruin everything... It's life, it's children's lives... and poor Rathian, the love of his life. The Rathalos felt a sharp piercing pain in it's head, splintering bone, then simply he collapsed with an empty gasp, nearly like a cry for help. No more sounds or movements did it make. This great beast, this simple father to be; No longer with us.

Kiri lifted Sieglinde from the dragon's maw, the blade large and coloured emerald-green, it was curved in shape to let it slice through even the toughest of dragon hides. Fangs lined the back edge of the sword, bandages entwined the blade's body, clearly it was worn and aged. The blood of the great dragon now littered both of Sieglinde's edges, Kiri grinned at the gore and laughed, 'I am the destroyer of dragons! The hero to my land! I am the perfect warrior!'. The pompus hunter seemed to bask in his ego, if fear was in the dragon's eyes, then this in his was the great terror that had haunted Rathalos and wyvern alike.

Kiri placed Sieglinde upon his back, the metal hilt and guard fitting onto the hold. He stepped closer and drew a curved knife, he reached down and cut into the dragon's hide, tearing off webbing, scales and hide. Upon pocketing the remnants he stood up again and began to walk away towards the nearby town; Acamyra, home of the hunting legends.