Legendary Beasts

The damp sensation beneath its paw made the squirrel jerk it up as though it had been electrocuted. It was a vast puddle of blue-purple slime, stretching out from the distant forest.

With all its fur standing on end, the squirrel abandoned its earlier caution and scrambled up the tallest tree nearby, looking into the distance from the treetop with the best view.

A terrifying scene filled its black eyes. The dense forest had vanished, leaving only an endless ocean of blue-purple slime.

The vibrant green of the forest had been replaced by an ominous blue-purple, and half the blue sky had been tinted purple by the reflection of the green ocean of slime.

The squirrel knew what this was. Those terrifying Zerglings were born from slime like this. Any magical beast that ventured deep into the slime, no matter how powerful, never returned.

A line appeared deep within the slime. It was a troop of terrifying Zerglings, faster and fiercer atop the slime.

No longer concealing itself or conserving its strength, the squirrel wrapped itself in Psionics. Under their influence, the surrounding wind became controllable.

Enveloped in wind, the squirrel pushed its speed to the limit. It leaped swiftly down from the tree, skirted the slime, and raced deeper into the forest.

Three days later, on a night when a rainstorm ravaged the Death Forest, the squirrel, bearing several wounds, huddled beneath a huge leaf in search of a moment of peace.

Suddenly, something made a faint, unusual sound in the darkness. The squirrel immediately shook off its exhaustion, bared its teeth, and gave a vicious growl.

A slightly larger figure walked through the downpour and beneath the leaf. It was a wolf, and it too bore two wounds, identical to the squirrel's.

The two magical beasts, normally enemies, looked at each other. After a moment of silence, both lowered their guard, and the squirrel shifted aside to leave the wolf a spot out of the rain.

Later, the wolf and the squirrel traveled together, helping and caring for each other, as close as family. On their journey, they encountered other magical beasts and wild animals. Apart from those with severe injuries, which were killed and eaten, the others all joined the group peacefully.

Deep within the Death Forest, more and more scenes like this played out. To survive, the intelligent magical beasts slowly began to unite.

In a secluded valley, large numbers of intelligent magical beasts of every kind gathered. They varied in shape and size, and every one of them was the overlord of a stretch of forest.

Now they had no thought of territory or fighting, but waited quietly together for something.

More and more magical beasts gathered. Once there was no room left in the valley, the later arrivals lined up outside of their own accord, in perfect order.

Thud, thud, thud. Footsteps came from within the valley. The ground trembled slightly, and the magical beasts closest to the valley's interior lowered their heads as though welcoming a king.

A huge white body emerged from the shadows within the valley. It had an enormous frame and thick, powerful limbs. The muscles beneath its white fur held terrifying strength, and its hands bore a pair of enormous sharp claws. These were its most terrifying weapons; no magical beast could withstand a single strike from them.

This was the Behemoth, the symbol of supreme strength.

The second sound was much softer, only the quiet rustling of armored scales brushing against loose stones. But the sudden plunge in the valley's temperature showed that the newcomer was no ordinary creature. A giant serpent over ten meters long slithered in along the valley's rock wall.

A pair of horns grew on the giant serpent's head, and its tongue flickered from its mouth, which could not contain its enormous venomous fangs gleaming with cold light. White, frigid mist rose from its blue-green scales, creating a white road of frost wherever it passed.

The Frost Serpent. Legend said it could freeze even time, and many ignorant people worshipped it as the Winter God.

A gale swept through the valley, blowing many of the weaker magical beasts off balance. When the gale subsided, a giant golden eagle stood atop one of the valley's higher hills.

Its talons and beak were formed from pure wind element, and the powerful energy spilling from them was visible to the naked eye. The feathers covering its body were smooth, beautiful, and as hard as steel.

Its slit pupils swept arrogantly across the valley. Apart from the Frost Serpent and the Behemoth, not a single magical beast dared meet its gaze.

The darling of the wind element, the magical beast said to be the fastest of all: the Storm Dragonhawk.

The oppressive presence of the three enormous Legendary Beasts standing together made every magical beast inside and outside the valley lower its head.

Powerful Psionics emanating from the three Legendary Beasts enveloped the entire valley, bringing the magical beasts' consciousnesses together.

Magical beasts possessed intelligence, so they could understand complex things. Though they had no language, they could transmit emotions through their minds. As long as there were emotions, communication was possible.

The Shroud and Psionics raised the upper limit of intelligence, allowing magical beasts of different sizes and species to unite.

The squirrel magical beast conveyed fear of the Swarm and a yearning to survive.

The wolf magical beasts conveyed hatred over the slaughter of their packs by the Swarm, and a desire for revenge.

All kinds of magical beasts shared their emotions, and those varied emotions dyed the vast Psionics a multitude of colors.

Among those emotions, the black of fear was the most prevalent, followed by the red of anger. None of the other colors accounted for a significant proportion.

Once most of the magical beasts had finished expressing their emotions, the Legendary Beasts began to speak as well.

The Behemoth wanted to fight. It had absolute confidence in its own strength. Against the Swarm, which had devastated the Death Forest and disrupted the planet's psionic tides, it wanted to launch a Beast Tide and wipe them out.

The Frost Serpent took a conservative stance. It believed fighting was much like hunting: both required patience, caution, and surprise. A Swarm capable of devastating the Death Forest like this would certainly be difficult to deal with. They needed to observe it longer before making a decision.

The Storm Dragonhawk lazily preened its beautiful feathers with its beak, staying out of the clash of thoughts between the Behemoth and the Frost Serpent. It possessed speed it could be proud of. Whether fighting or retreating, it could not lose.

Different thoughts led to different beliefs, and those differing beliefs in turn gave rise to conflict. It would have been fine if the Legendary Beasts could agree, but if even they could not align their thinking, that was all the more true of the other magical beasts.

The magical beasts that favored confrontation believed those that favored observation and avoidance had no fighting spirit and were destined to be eliminated. The cowards should be killed and eaten.

The magical beasts that favored observation and avoidance believed those that favored confrontation had nothing but strength and did not know how to use their intelligence. They were wild beasts that had not finished evolving, and would only perish in blind confrontation.

As the argument within their psionic consciousness grew increasingly heated, a psionic tide struck the place like a storm, completely scattering the Psionics in the area. The impact left some of the weaker magical beasts' minds blank, and they lay on the ground, twitching slightly.