Bruce chuckled under his breath. Ash was learning how to be a true battlefield predator.
With a smooth motion, he leapt from the dragon's back and landed lightly in the snow just as Ash slammed into the broken formation below like a falling meteor. Ice and wind erupted outward as the dragon tore into the disorganized wolves.
Bruce pointed ahead without looking at the carnage.
"Get them, Ash. You're free to go all out."
Ash roared in response, a thunderous, earth-shaking bellow that vibrated through the storm, before launching itself fully into the pack, claws, fangs, and fire weaving together in a terrifying spiral of destruction.
Bruce did not join.
He remained still, snow drifting around him, his attention fixed not on the chaos but on the one wolf who stood untouched.
The one who had not screamed. The one who had not fallen. The one whose aura pulsed colder, deeper, steadier than the rest.
The pack leader.
Somehow, it had avoided Ash's Soul Flame entirely.
