Northern Glaciers
By the edge of an icy river, a wounded young white dragon roared triumphantly. In front of it lay the heavily injured body of an ice wolf. The creature, emanating an eleventh-degree aura, appeared to be on the verge of death. Yet, the dragon that had defeated it was merely at the initial stage of the tenth degree.
"You did well not to kill it, Tolp," said Ülgen as he descended slowly from the sky, pouring a single drop of blood from his palm onto the ice wolf. "Even if its loss would be tolerable, every beast that serves us is an extra force in our army."
Tolp chuckled softly as he looked at the defeated wolf lying on the ground."This wolf had the will to resist even a dragon. I thought it would be a waste to let such a magical creature die."
