"Ice-Fire Dragon Art: Flaming Ice Breath."
Drakion opened his mouth as a bluish-red flame burst forth, radiating an overwhelming blend of chilling frost and searing fire. He had poured every ounce of his power and strength into this singular Art.
Draconic Breath—feared across the realms—was one of the most destructive forces known to dragons. Just one breath could obliterate worlds.
The Flaming Ice Breath tore through the battlefield, unleashing havoc as it slammed into the dragons. Each one was instantly overwhelmed, subdued, and dominated by the sheer magnitude of the attack. With a single strike, Drakion had hurled them to the ground. They couldn't move—paralyzed by the simultaneous torment of unbearable heat and soul-piercing cold.
Drakion's gaze narrowed. This was their chance—the chance to awaken them.
He turned to the dragons beside him. "Quickly, go and wake them up," he commanded, his voice firm and urgent.
