Chapter 156: Ash Unleashed!

“…Good.” Bruce exhaled softly.

But Ash heard him. Ash words was encouraging

But the howl in the distance answered back, closer now. Hungrier.

Swoosh. Figures moved within the blizzard, white shadows lunging through the storm with predatory grace, snow exploding beneath their paws as they spread outward in a tightening arc. They circled with silent intelligence, every step measured, every angle deliberate, their formation too precise to be anything but ancient instinct refined into strategy.

Ash growled at Bruce.

Not at the wolves… but at Bruce.

Bruce’s brow lifted slightly. He couldn’t understand Ash’s words, not literally, but he understood the feeling behind that growl with perfect clarity.

Ash was trying to say,

’Don’t interfere. These prey are mine. Let me fight.’

Bruce exhaled slowly, the sound barely a whisper before the storm swallowed it whole. Of course Ash wanted this. The evolution was still fresh, the Soul Flame inside it crackling with energy that begged to be tested, and now real monsters, savage, hungry, territorial monsters, were closing in.

His gaze sharpened, sliding through the white veil of snow until the beasts came into perfect focus. Massive wolves, three meters tall at the shoulder, their fur jagged like frost-forged armor, their teeth long and translucent like carved ice-steel. Saliva dripped from their maws, sizzling as it struck the snow in soft, sinister hisses. Their breath fogged the air like steam rising from frozen corpses. Their eyes glowed faintly, predator-sharp, old and cruel.

A terrifying sight… to anyone else.

But Bruce’s heart didn’t move. It rested in perfect stillness, like clear water untouched by wind. A-ranked beasts. Nothing more. Even several S-ranks wouldn’t have shaken him. Not now. Not when Ash needed this battlefield more than he did.

He stepped back in a single smooth motion, boots crunching into deep snow as he created distance. He wasn’t worried. Not even a little. If anything, he was calmer than before. These wolves were perfect targets, perfect opponents, for testing what Ash had become.

’So, Vaelith,’ Bruce asked, eyes narrowing slightly, ’what’s the name of this beast?’

Vaelith’s voice answered instantly, crisp and cold, echoing through the system’s inner space. [Those are Abyssal Direwolves, Snow Variant.]

The information slid through Bruce’s mind effortlessly. Since Vaelith had merged a fragment of his consciousness with the system, physical distance had long since ceased to matter. Bruce could be anywhere, Vaelith could still whisper directly into his thoughts.

Bruce nodded once, his breath slipping past his lips in a thin ribbon of frost.

Snow whipped violently around him. The direwolves growled, low and vibrating like thunder beneath ice. Ash roared back, the young dragon’s voice booming through the blizzard with wild, newly-born power. The storm itself seemed to tremble under the collision of their cries.

This dungeon… this frozen tomb of white and silence… had just become Ash’s first true battlefield as an A-Ranked Dragon.

Bruce folded his arms, calm, steady, watching the storm shift as the wolves closed in.

He would not need to interfere.

Tonight belonged to Ash.

Meanwhile, the white Abyssal Direwolves, unbothered by Bruce’s calm assessment, lunged with murderous precision. Snow erupted beneath their paws as they shot forward with blinding speed, the circle tightening around Ash like a trap snapping shut. Ice fangs flashed in the storm, jaws opening wide as they closed in from every direction.

Ash lowered its massive head… and roared.

WHOOM!!!!

Flames erupted, yet not in the way dragons traditionally breathed fire. Ash didn’t spew flames outward. Instead, the fire gathered. Huge swirling spheres of flame formed in the air around the young dragon, drawn together as if commanded by invisible hands. A psychic pull. Telekinetic manipulation. Ancient dragon instinct manifesting in pure, terrifying majesty.

Six massive fireballs ignited at once, orbiting Ash with violent, hungry intensity.

Bruce’s eyes gleamed with quiet interest. Good. He was falling in love with Ash’s Soul Flame more and more with every passing moment.

One wolf burst through the storm, lunging mid-air with claws outstretched. Ash responded instantly. A single thought. A flicker of intent.

BOOM!

A fireball slammed into the wolf mid-leap, swallowing it whole. It shrieked as it crashed back into the snow, flames burrowing deep into muscle and bone.

But the true horror came from the second flame.

Ash exhaled, softly.

A ripple of colorless fire drifted out, silent and weightless, an invisible tide of annihilation that only those with soul perception could even notice. The wolf never even realized it had been struck.

Then…

AAARWUUU!!!

It collapsed, thrashing wildly, clawing at empty air, jaws snapping as if trying to bite something only it could feel. Its flesh showed no burns. But its soul… its soul was burning alive.

Bruce watched with an unreadable expression.

“Nice,” he murmured.

More wolves lunged, desperate and coordinated, trying to overwhelm Ash through sheer ferocity.

Ash moved first.

Its wings snapped open, FWAP, sending a brutal shockwave of snow and ice blasting outward as it launched forward like a cannonball of scaled muscle. In less than a heartbeat, it appeared before a wolf still rolling in agony from its earlier flames.

The beast howled, only once.

Ash silenced it with a single swipe.

SWOOSH!

CRRSHHK!

PAH!

Its head burst like an overripe watermelon, shards of skull and molten flesh splattering across the snow.

Ash twisted without slowing.

Its tail snapped out like a bladed spear, THUD, impaling straight through the ribs of another wolf writhing on the ground. The tail punched through its heart cleanly, lifting the beast off the snow for a brief moment before flinging it aside. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc that painted the blizzard red.

The direwolf convulsed once… then went limp.

They stood absolutely no chance. Even though Ash was technically the same rank as them, A-Rank, its evolution, its bloodline, its flames, both physical and spiritual, rendered the fight hopeless from the start.

The wolves died faster than they could comprehend the monster they were facing.

Bruce watched everything from the side, perfectly calm, not lifting a finger. But he did extend one arm slightly.

Red, his twin dagger, shivered with hunger at the slaughter, its bloodlust vibrating against his palm.

Bruce let it fly.

SWOOSH!

The dagger tore into the blizzard like a streak of living crimson lightning, eager to feast on the carnage Ash had created, its insatiable hunger reaching for more blood to drink.

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