Oxiderr was not worried. Admittedly, the first part of the battle turned out to be tighter than expected because of the desperate strategic innovations of the Rathiens, but he remained very confident. Rakurian' losses remained very low compared to those on the Rathien side, and each Nordic fought with the courage of a lion. Even Acheron, whom he had seen emerge several times from his line, in order to shoot down a troublesome Tigrex. For his part, his electric attacks at incredible range were a great success. The trio he formed with his father and Irodim was a yellow and green wall that was impossible to break. But this wall progressed rapidly toward the heart of the bowl that the Rathiens adopted to try to repel them, along with the Burutians' reinforcements.
The Howling Zinogre grew increasingly fond of these warriors. Powerful, unshakeable, blinded by the need for destruction, he almost admired them. The only thing he could blame them for was the choice of their nation, that of preferring to wear armor or other gear to fight. Like any good Rakurian worthy of his name, Oxiderr fought without protection, and hardly complained about it. On the contrary.
"A true warrior does not hide under artificial shields. What's more, it is very cumbersome to carry and hinders movement. "He thought.
A Khezu landed in front of them, smeared with blood that was not his, because he bore no open wound. A soldier in the last lines, judging by his correct but relatively weak musculature.
"Your Excellency Rakurai," he bowed hastily and panting, "General Blizzard was anxious to inform you of his readiness to put out of action the swordsman Astalos which threatens the inner lines and our strategy. He sent me to report that he has been significantly affected by it, and that it will take a while before he can resume his pursuit and create a diversion."
His father's muzzle wrinkled with discontent.
"Although he is quickly back on his feet, Blizzard is crucial to us in dealing with this Rathien general. In the meantime, give Asterion the order to get the air squad going to keep the pressure on her. Under no circumstances should she make herself comfortable over our heads!" he ordered, his fangs slightly uncovered, while electrocuting a Nargacuga who was approaching dangerously, and to whom he only took a brief glance at the corpse to make sure of his death.
"All right, Your Excellency."
The flying wyvern with its flabby white skin took off clumsily as soon as he had finished his sentence. Oxiderr thundered the Pink Rathian that had appeared to prevent him from transmitting the precious message. She screamed in pain before hitting the ground, head first, where she was quickly reduced to lint by the Zinogres who were covering the imperial breakthrough.
"So naive, so weak! What a pleasure to shot them like small preys!" he rejoiced, a carnivorous smile on his lips.
His younger brother also expressed his amusement at massacring the Rathians.
"It's true that it's funny! They're dropping like flies!" Irodim barked, who despite this naive statement was bearing scarlet drips on his fangs.
"Victory is at hand, my sons! All we have to do now is break their formation and the door of Ignis will be open to us!" cried their patriarch as he knocked down the Lavasioth in front of him with a single blow of his paw, his amber fur bristling with electricity.
They advanced more and more towards the center of the bowl, where their progress was brutally slowed down: the fighting raged there, and the many lost projectiles, Rathiens and Rakurians alike, whistled at the level of their horns. In addition, corpses were beginning to pile up everywhere, and the enormous carrion of a dying Gammoth forced them to make wide detours more than once. When he would find a Rathien body, Oxiderr would check to make sure that there was no trace of life left in them. If it was dead for sure, he would only be interested in it for five seconds at the most; if not, he would hideously scratch them with a claw that had been covered with the filthy mud covering the ground. Their suffering would thus be longer and unbearable, and this thought made him peculiarly happy. The only advantage of these macabre mounds was the possibility of retreating behind them, waiting for a lull in a furious duel taking place nearby.
"Let's split up, moving forward as a group in this way becomes too complicated, Rakurai said. As for you," he then added to the covering Zinogres, "prevent the generals from coming back to defend here! "
The fanged wyverns ran immediately in the opposite direction, eliminating anything that could delay them in their task with ardor.
"Let's go. And remember, we take no prisoners!" Rakurai barked as he rushed through the compact mass of fighting soldiers.
Oxiderr responded with a thunderous howl that allowed him to reach his maximum charge.
"You're damn right, we're not taking any prisoners! »
Each contact of his paws with the ground began to provoke a powerful electrical pulse that terrorized anyone who was too close. The Howling Zinogre had a grin: once the owner of this furious deluge of lightning was identified, everyone retreated. Oxiderr, one of the three sons of the glorious Rakurai II, Emperor of Rakuria! He knew that the Rathiens knew very few Rakurian names, but those of the imperial family were feared by all. The proof being their reaction to his nightmarish appearance. It had to be said that with its inordinately large horns, protruding canines, ghostly gray hue and overdeveloped spikes, they had a lot of reasons to be distraught.
"That said, it is true that after ten years of confrontation, we still forget the names of the generals and heirs. But the heirs don't fight, and as far as the generals are concerned, it's only a matter of time before they are torn to pieces ... Damn Astalos. I would like to have the honor of gutting her myself. "thought Oxiderr.
Howling at the moon, the fanged wyvern galloped through the melee that frightened away from the ashen shape wrapped in murderous lightnings. Yielding to the intoxication of war and the exhilarating effect of the ambient electricity, Oxiderr leapt to ground anything that crossed his gaze, provided it was a Rathien. He defended one of the last Gammoths of the legion who had been sent to the brink of the battle, with the aim of creating loopholes in the Rathien army that the next ones would only have to infiltrate.
The Gammoths were the most suitable species for frontal combat that the Empire had at its disposal. Thanks to their immense mammoth body, they could withstand the most powerful assaults without flinching, and retaliate with their own slow but invincible charge. In addition, their long tusks and their large skull with its rocky surface were
excellent weapons.
If that wasn't enough, there remained their ability to freeze the air they inhaled with their trunk, which could be used to create an ice armor on the legs of this colossus or simply freeze the aggressors. As for this trunk, it was known to be capable of lifting and projecting a Tigrex. In case of too great a danger, or fording a river, the lightest soldiers of the Empire, mainly the Blangongas and Lagombis, were allowed to climb these living blue mountains. They thus made an excellent observation post.
The still very valiant Gammoth was assaulted by a Nargacuga which it held in respect with its defenses, as well as two Rathalos burning its flanks with their flames. The elder Rakurian heir defeated them without difficulty with the support of the hairy pachyderm. He also met a Brute Tigrex lying on the ground, amputated of a back leg, but which nevertheless delivered a fight of an astonishing ferocity to him. It took Oxiderr only a moment when the remaining rear leg was in the blind spot of the Rathien soldier. He grabbed it with his electrified jaws and then broke it with a sharp and resounding blow. The flying wyvern uttered a roar of pain that the Roaring Zinogre choked as it quickly jumped on its back to slit its throat. Around him, Oxiderr noticed that the fire of battle was beginning to die down. There were far more bodies on the ground than fighting warriors, and the ground could no longer absorb the torrent of blood being offered to it. The stench of death was rising from the carrions and vitiating the air, becoming less and less breathable.
"To think that in a month or two, this battlefield will have become a prosperous and flourishing field. It's funny to see how death and life are bound! »
He then noticed two strange Raths in confrontation with Stygian Zinogres. He remembered seeing them before the assault, but the Howling Zinogre did not take seriously what his eyes were telling him. Yet he now saw them more closely and could be certain of the vision that was before him. One was a white Rathalos veined with azure and with different wing patterns than the ordinary Rathalos Oxiderr knew, and the other was a Rathian more lilac-scaled than khaki, whose poisonous tail created poisonous clouds; The Howling Zinogre had also never seen such a thing. Both wore fairly well chiseled armor, indicating a likely status as either commander or lieutenant.
"What are these strange birds? The Rathalos is neither red nor blue, but white! Yet only the Rathien king and his queen have a unique color! And this Rathian's poison ... There is nothing ordinary about it! New recruits? Already at this stage in the hierarchy? Impossible! Who are they then, so that I have never heard of them?! "Oxiderr fulminated as he revealed his fangs.
He was furious at the simple idea of having to be careful with the vermin that were the Rathians.
"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do then. »
His roar of rage sounded like a thunder clap.
Immediately, all the Rathien eyes present converged on him, including that of the white Rathalos and the purplish Rathian. The former opened his eyes wide, while the latter kept a neutral expression.
The moon-colored wolf then came dangerously close to the two unknown Raths, letting his lightning bolts roar in his place, his sharp fangs still visible.
"Besides, weren't they three when I saw them ?" wondered Oxiderr.
In response to this thought, a ferocious roar reached his ears, which were grasped the next second by claws. With no time to grasp what was happening behind him, the Howling Zinogre was dragged forward by its assailant, forcing him to roll with his back to the ground and his belly exposed. The Rathien then let go of his grip on Oxiderr's ears and held him down with one clamp on his chest and another on one of his hind legs.
The fluffy state he was in quickly gave way to hatred.
"WHO IS THE FUCKING RAT WHO DARED TO TAKE ME BY SURPRISE?! "he exclaimed mentally so loudly that his thought turned into a furious howl.
He finally regain the use of his eyes, which for a few seconds had been transmitting only blurred images and stars, and discovered the face of the one who would pay dearly for this affront: a Rathalos more massive than usual, with a dark red wingspan of golden patterns, and adorned with an armor slightly lighter than the garnet color of his body.
"Who are you, child of a whore, to dare to attack your opponent like a traitor?! he roared, mad with sheer rage, before violently throwing the flying wyvern to the ground with a single kick.
He rather badly accused the blow and coughed a sheaf of blood, unable to get up, dazed by the shock. Oxiderr took the opportunity to reverse the roles, squeezing the neck of the garnet Rathalos between his claws, which could only groan in pain because of the pressure on him, unable to defend himself. The Zinogre brought his frightening muzzle closer to the head of the vanquished.
"That's all you have, you miserable runt?! he spat in his face, even more furious to have been fooled by such a loser.
The garnet Rathalos hardly opened his eyes again to try to breath a fireball, but only smoke came out of his blocked throat. He coughed again, then tried to hit Oxiderr with his tail, which was a true weapon given the spiked protection covering it. The latter, obviously noticing the slow movement of the caudal appendage, crushed it with his right hind leg. The other could only manage to utter a muffled scream. The lunar-hued Zinogre slapped him in the face with rage, leaving a black mark on the Rathalos's cheek, charred by electricity that was beyond the control of the electric wolf.
"So you dare to attack Oxiderr, Rakuria's eldest heir, with a force as pathetic as yours? You deserve the most atrocious death for wasting my time!"
At these words, he raised his right paw high, which glowed with electricity, and brought it down on the torso of the flying wyvern, which this time found enough voice to roar his distress. The electricity sizzled for a moment on the body of the garnet Rathalos, then disappeared.
"What did you think? That your miserable piece of rubber would save you in any situation? You Rathien dogs are so naive that it's laughable!" the Howling Zinogre growled, preparing to strike a second blow at the half-conscious Rathalos.
"Leave him in peace! If you want an opponent, here I am ! Leave this Rathalos be : you said it yourself, he's not worth it," said the strange Rathian who had decided to intervene, under the amazed eyes of the white Rathalos.
She already seemed tougher to him just by her attitude. Her talons anchored in the ground, her deployed wings, her head high, her fierce look, everything seemed more believable to him. That interested him a lot. But he was not going to give in to her. Or at least not now. First, he was going to play a little with his newly-found prey.
"This Rathalos showed an audacity that must be punished! One does not attack with impunity one more powerful than oneself, what's more from behind, the worst insult one can do to a Nordic warrior!" Oxiderr barked.
"If you kill him, he won't have a lesson to learn," the Rathian remarked.
Around them, the soldiers were wondering what to do. Leave them? Attack the one who was attacking the Rathalos? To flee?
"If I kill him, it will be to set an example to your other miscreants of soldiers!" he replied, enraged that he was being answered this way.
"You talk about a behavior for a warrior to adopt, but wouldn't that behavior forbid you from attacking an opponent on the ground?" the Rathian grumbled.
"Not if that opponent already made a crucial mistake!" replied the Howling Zinogre angrily.
The Rathian seemed increasingly nervous.
"Speaking of contempt, did not your people commit a far more slanderous one? Like the assassination of Princess Tourmaline?" she asked more calmly, but full of virulent bitterness.
Oxiderr saw red.
"What dare you say, damned malformed Rathian? You put the blame on our honest nation, for you are too ashamed to admit that this happened because of your negligence?!" he thundered.
The insult hit the nail on the head, and the said Rathian gritted her teeth in anger.
"For the punishment, that scoundrel will die first!" he shouted, threatening a third time to severely injure the now unconscious Rathalos.
The green flying wyvern reacted with a quarter turn, breathing a powerful sphere of fire on the leg that Oxiderr had raised. He abandoned the inert body of the Rathalos.
"What's your name, cursed anomaly?" he scolded as he pressed his last words, aware of the effect they would have.
He saw her tensing up more, but she did not answer.
"What is your name?!"
She loosened her jaws slightly.
"Arsenic."
The Nordic grinned.
"Well, Arsenic, if you want so much to get what's left of this damn dog, come and fight me, since you feel you can!"
The Rathian walked a few steps forward and then hit the ground with her tail. Oxiderr thought for a moment that this was an attempt to intimidate him, but then he noticed that she then grabbed two of the purple shards that had appeared where the tips of her tail had hit the ground.
"En garde," she said, returning to her stoic attitude, even though Oxiderr could sense her palpable hatred behind this mask of neutrality.
"I hope you'll do better than this one," the Howling Zinogre mocked, pointing a claw at the lying Rathalos.
She did not respond to this provocation, and Oxiderr took advantage of this moment of hesitation to throw the first shot. He summoned ten electric spheres on the Rathian, who narrowly avoided them all. She then spat out a fireball that fragmented, causing multiple small explosions. The Zinogre only had to leap out of reach. It then rushed so sharply towards the Rathian that all she could see was a trail of lightning bolts rushing straight towards her, and then the huge body of the Roaring Zinogre reappeared and struck her wildly. She was pushed back into the distance, but rose quickly despite the damage caused by her dazzling charge: the claws on her wings had been broken, and a thin trickle of blood ran down her right thigh. The Rathian named Arsenic responded with a fire ball that she breathed as she flew away. Oxiderr blocked it with one paw, then stepped forward quietly and, with a slight contraction of his back muscles, unleashed the power of his Fulgurbugs in several lightning bolts of frightening precision. She avoided them all, as she was accustomed to this exercise, but the Howling Zinogre did not give in, and continued to harass her, wishing to exhaust and then trap her. However, instead of dodging them all, she forced herself to take a few shots to get close to her opponent, taking less damage thanks to the lightning protection of her armor.
"Damn rubber coated armor, luckily there aren't many of them ... Rathiens really are the worst cowards to use this kind of ploy! " he spat mentally.
Seeing her reduce the distance, Oxiderr invoked three lightning bolts at once to stop her. The Rathian managed to get around them with some difficulty, and then rushed at him in a final effort. The Howling Zinogre then decided to leap against her, his electrified jaws ready to bite on the tender flesh of the green dragon's belly. Oxiderr realized too late that it was a feint. She swung to the left, then slapped him so hard on the snout of her dangerous tail that the fanged wyvern crashed to the ground. The wound inflicted by the spines of the caudal appendage oozed toxic liquid, causing Oxiderr to growl furiously.
"What virulence, by Kirin! One would think that she set fire to my blood with her cursed venom! "he weighed inwardly, even though his surprise and suffering were visible to his enemy and the Rathian soldiers.
When he got up, he noticed that the shock of the Rathian's tail on his head had created a cloud of poison that spread through the air. If the green dragon did not care, the Howling Zinogre was already feeling the effects of this foul air in his lungs, amplifying his suffering due to the circulation of the liquid and gaseous poison in his body.
"By all the gods! How is it that I am so quickly put in trouble by a damned Rathian?! »
The said Rathian rested, her purple crystals in one of her talons. She must have felt confident after poisoning him, which made him even more enraged. He set off again in a lightning charge, but the Rathian must have anticipated it because he missed her. Leaving her no respite, he spinned, allowing him to send twenty electric balls around him. They hit Rathien soldiers who fled, but the Rathian was still nowhere to be found until he felt a discomfort in his left shoulder. He had a shiver of surprise: an amethyst shard was stuck in it, and he was losing purple-tinged blood. The poison began to irradiate both his shoulders. The sensation of molten magma in his veins became unbearable.
The pain made him lose his mind, so much so that he carried out his most powerful blow, whereas he reserved it only for very precise cases, his revelation remaining a means of proving to enemies that he had more than one trick up his sleeve. He howled, and then an intense light enveloped him. The sky began to rumble, then an electric dome appeared all around Oxiderr, who jumped and landed with force on the ground. As if it were an order, all the power accumulated by the Howling Zinogre was released in an instant, and within a second it became a green and blue column of light. He heard through its roar and that of lightning the scream of the Rathian, which he saw struck by lightning in mid-air, having been trapped by the dome of destruction. Under the power of this release of energy, lumps of mud and earth then fell to the ground. When silence fell, all the Rathiens, except for the strange trio, were on the ground. A few soldiers who had realized far too late what was going on were strewing the ground with their corpses. In the distance he heard the faint echo of the Rathien bugle. They had retreated. The fanged wyvern could already discern the squads of soldiers charged with recovering the wounded who could not move.
On his trembling limbs, Oxiderr was panting, despite the electric charge he still had after such a blow. He felt molten, his vision blurred at times, and he found it increasingly difficult to stand. With difficulty, he tore the crystal from his shoulder and then noticed a second projectile lodged in his chest. The Rathian had managed to throw this last shard before getting hit, hoping to defeat him with this final move. He removed it like the other.
His satisfaction and rage weakly overcame the pain, which had become so violent that his body seemed unable to transmit it. He briefly scanned the scene with his eyes, then turned his heels, trying to move forward, one step at a time. The strange Raths were nowhere to be seen, maybe under mounts of mud, dirt, and even bodies.
"I'm going to teach those damn dogs what I do to those who resist me...! »
He advised a Rathalos lying on the ground, short of breath. His tail had been cut off, and one of his claws was in a pitiful state. So pitiful that even the most optimistic of healers would not dare claim to be able to cure it. He grabbed the Rathien's neck, who protested weakly between his fangs, and dragged him with him to the Rakurian's base camp.
The Howling Zinogre went to a very particular side of the camp. The side of those who followed him, who appreciated his way of doing things. His camp. It had been created quite a while ago, during the Bloody War. Some people felt that Rakurai II was being too gentle with the enemy, who should be exterminated without ceremony or rules. Oxiderr had discovered this resentment on a summer evening during one of his nightly drinking sessions. The power of alcohol brought them and their ideas together, and thus their band of anarchists was born. In this time of war, they discussed the emperor's mistakes, and sometimes even insulted him openly: no one feared reprisals as long as the eldest heir was with them. He himself did not hesitate to criticize his father when he was drunk.
Sometimes, when the opportunity arose, they would retrieve a corpse and beat and mutilate it. This was against the warrior's code, but they did not care, since in their view they were enemies who deserved no pity. On the other hand, they had to be careful not to be caught in the act: if his father learned of the existence of his gang and its practices, there was no doubt that he would be in an unfortunate mess, and unable to serve his sadistic impulses. When he crossed the part of the camp that did not interest him, many questioning and scornful glances were cast on the body of the Rathalos he was dragging. However, he did not worry about the large number of witnesses to his passage: nobody would dare to denounce him, and even if they did, the emperor would most certainly have them cut off their heads to dare to attack his son if they did not have enough evidence. But he would leave no evidence. His father could well suspect that something was wrong with him, so as long as the accusations were so weak and unfounded, he had nothing to fear.
Irodim appeared out of nowhere and met him with curious eyes.
"You brought back a prisoner? But Daddy said we should not, didn't he?" he asked.
He put the Rathien on the ground so he could answer him.
"He's dead, Irodim. If I took the trouble to drag him here, it's to understand how their damn lightning armor works. I confronted three new lieutenants who had some, and it bothered me prodigiously. We need to find a way to counter these things before they become too common among the Rathiens. I took the body with it for testing," lied the Howling Zinogre, however very convincing.
"You're going to give it to Acheron then? So he could study it?"
Oxiderr broke into a cold sweat. He hadn't thought of that answer from his little brother.
"I did most of the work by dragging it here ! I'm not sharing it !" he scolded. "I don't see why it should only be Acheron's job to study it! He could find himself a carrion if he wants to experiment!"
The Immortal Zinogre seemed to be satisfied with this answer.
"It's true, if he was that smart, he would have thought of it. But that's not the case," he nodded.
The eldest of the siblings left him with this thought, and took the Rathalos between his fangs. He was not in the mood to think and argue any further, the venom in his veins making him not patient and inclined to think, he already was not.
When he arrived in the closed circle of his companions' tents, he released the red flying wyvern, which gave off a faint squeak, only proof that he was still alive. Oxiderr stepped over one of his wings without paying any more attention to it.
"My friends! Look what I brought back for you! Tonight, I'm paying for my round!" he growled, a painful but satisfied smile on his chops.
His brothers in thought emerged from their tents, most of them still in good shape, with only a few superficial wounds.
"Oxiderr! We wondered what you were doing! You've brought us a new toy, I see?" a Zamtrios answered cheerfully, a cruel smile on his face.
"And alive, too!" a Blangonga wondered, punching the Rathalos, who groaned.
"Ah yes, my brave men! But I will ask you to keep it that way until tonight, or the whole point of my delay will have lost its meaning. Try not to damage the merchandise too much."
They answered him with a devious nod.
"I'll come back at sunset, I have some business to attend to," he declared, pointing to his wounds, masking his suffering.
The Blangonga approached to take a closer look at the wounds.
"By Oroshi! Who could have managed to get so close to you?!" he exclaimed, having seen Oxiderr come back with such scars very few times.
The Howling Zinogre had a disdainful pout.
"Not a worthy opponent, in any case! I wanted to give a beating to two lieutenants who had caught my eye, except that a third one attacked me like a traitor, behind my back! The other two bastards took advantage of the situation to get three on me! I managed to land a good blow, reminding them of the sense of honor they did not possess, after which I cut them to pieces. But that strange Rathian had a tough poison, see, my scales turned purple ! A real liquid fire!" he smiled despite the burning of the said poison.
A Jade Barroth had joined the gathering that was forming around the elder Rakurian heir.
"I have faced many Rathians, but a venom that leaves such traces, never!"
The Howling Zinogre thought about this for a moment.
When the sun retreated to make way for the moon, he and his followers joined the Rathien village where the Rakurians celebrated their victory, plundering the few riches they had, raping and drinking. The rebel warriors participated for a while in these festivities, which they found more and more bland with each passing year, then quietly slipped away while Rakurai made a twenty-fifth toast to their future annexation of the Rathlands. They passed through their camp again to take the Rathalos in pain, then dragged it to a hill that offered a view of the village animated by Nordic troops. The Howling Zinogre took a brief glance at the precipice that bordered the hill.
The alcohol and traces of the poison still in his body galvanized him. He felt boiling, furious and joyful at the same time. This prompted him to proclaim a speech of his own composition, in front of his companions who were nibbling on the remains of roasted Aptonoth.
"My friends!" he began to draw their attention." I have told you how those cowardly soldiers came after me, and the bitterness it left in my mouth. If I brought back this carrion, it is to take revenge on these rats!" he roared. "If for us, the worst slander is to attack us behind our backs, what could humiliate and outrage a Rathien, in your opinion?!"
They all proposed different ideas.
"Let's drown him!"
"We boil him!"
"We burn him alive! Killed by the fire he mastered!"
Oxiderr had a frank but terrifying laugh.
"No, my friends! The Rathiens spit fire, it's a fact. But don't forget also that they can fly! And how do you insult a flying wyvern? You cut off its wings!" he replied, pointing to the Rathalos, who in a final burst of adrenaline had opened his eyes in horror, and tried to crawl away from the mad Nordics.
The others approved his proposal with bursts of fat laughter.
"Will you do me the honor of proceeding?" he asked them, his fangs uncovered in a crazy grin, taking the neck of Rathalos without mercy, which he brought back and then crushed with one knee on his rib cage, grabbing a knife.
The Nordic people loudly expressed their excitement.
"Go on! And do not miss it !"
The lunar gray Zinogre planted his blade in the muscle of the left wing of the Rathalos, which was ready to sink into unconsciousness by the intensity of the pain. Oxiderr baffled him to keep him awake: if he did not suffer, this spectacle would no longer be of interest, and his hatred would not be satisfied. With a slow and methodical gesture, he pulled on it, tearing the muscles and tissues, smearing the wing limb with vital fluid. The Rathien muffled a scream, blood having flowed down his throat, preventing any sound from coming out.
Once the wing was half severed, Oxiderr released the knife. Then, slowly, savoring the excruciating suffering of his victim, he ripped the wing from the body, whose reaction was to vomit a significant amount of blood. The wolf then took his dagger and put it in the other wing, this time in the middle of the tender veil, which he savagely mutilated with multiple cuts. When the dagger reduced the wing to a piece of cloth pierced from side to side, he sliced the part of the wing membrane adjacent to the body. The Rathalos seemed to find enough strength to scream, but the Howling Zinogre silenced him with a punch. He then called one of his followers to hold the body while he grabbed the wing still held by his bone and muscle. With a sharp blow, he dislodged it, then severed the tendons with his claws. The Rathien, stunned, regained consciousness in a heart-rending yelp that was killed by Oxiderr's acolyte. The Rakurian heir then drove the knife into the ground.
"I have a "scientific" question for you ..." he said, turning to the spectators, his face stained with blood.
The others, a little intimidated by the scene, waited for his point.
"Can a Rathalos without wings fly?"
Exalted, they answered him to carry out an "experiment" to answer this question.
Oxiderr again stretched his fangs into an insane smile, grabbing the horribly mutilated Rathien and placing him near the precipice.
"How lucky we are! Here is a gully that will allow us to get an answer!" he exclaimed falsely, triggering more sneers from his colleagues.
The exaltation reached its climax.
"Death to the mangy dog!"
-"Don't make us languish any longer, by the Gods!"
He let go of the body into the void. Immediately, everyone rushed to take advantage of the vision of the fall of the amorphous Rathien, who hit a dozen rocks before crashing to the ground, inert.
In the depths of the ravine, the Rathalos, unfortunately still alive, suffered its agony in silence. His ribs broken, his wings torn off, his skull fractured, his whole body screamed an atrocious and deaf suffering that he could only express through the rare tears that slid down his bloody face. When he finally felt with relief his heart slowing down and his vision turning black, he murmured:
- Ga ... Gamala ...