My Bugged System Made Me Too OP!

Chapter 120: Dragon’s Order

It was even faster than the first dog had been.

Since it was an advanced rank, it possessed more mana and an even tougher skin, which unfortunately worked against it.

The black fire kept consuming all that mana, growing even stronger, and eating even deeper into its body until it dropped dead.

The alpha’s smoke was still rising when the shift moved through the rest of the pack.

It happened fast — the collective psychology of a group whose leadee had just been removed expressing itself in the most immediate way available.

The aggression that had been driving them forward reversed direction completely, and what replaced it was the fundamental, overriding instinct that existed beneath all the others.

Run.

The four remaining wolves began pulling back, their bodies doing the opposite of everything they had been doing thirty seconds ago.

Heads lowered, eyes wide, paws moving backward with the uncoordinated urgency of animals that were no longer operating as a unit but as four individual creatures that all wanted to be somewhere else.

Four of them left.

Noah’s eyes moved across them quickly, the assessment taking less than a second.

Mutated grade — all four, none of them carrying the advanced rank aura that the alpha had projected.

The gap between mutated grade and advanced was meaningful on its own, talkless of the gap between then and Kael who just easily took down the strongest in their pack.

They had no chance.

The wolves seemed to arrive at a version of this conclusion through instinct, because the backing away accelerated into terror.

Then Kael’s voice hit them.

It didn’t come from his mouth. It arrived directly — inside their heads, somehow, the words carrying with them a pressure that had nothing to do with sound and everything to do with the nature of what was producing them.

"How dare you bunch of lowly beasts stand before me?!"

The tone carried an authority that landed differently from a vocalized threat, more intimate and more absolute, reaching past the ears and past the processing that animals did with external sounds and arriving somewhere more fundamental.

"I’ll make sure you all suffer for that."

The wolves howled.

The sounds that came out of them were confused rather than aggressive — not the coordinated pack vocalizations of animals operating with a shared purpose, but the individual, disoriented cries of creatures that had just experienced something their instincts had no category for.

Something had been inside their heads. They didn’t have language for that, but they had a response to it, and the response was noise and movement and more urgency.

They ran.

All four, committed now, paws driving against the forest floor with everything they had, the bushes parting around them as they pushed through it with the complete dedication of animals that had decided distance was the only thing that mattered.

Kael watched them go.

The smug expression returned — or rather, it had never fully left, and now it settled back into its fullest form.

He let them cover some ground. Let them believe for a moment that the forest was getting between them and the consequence of standing in his presence without appropriate deference.

Then he roared, extent this time, no black fire came out of his mouth.

Just the sound itself, enormous and resonant, carrying something in its frequency that moved through the trees and caught the fleeing wolves the way a hand caught something thrown.

They stopped.

Not slowed — stopped, completely, mid-stride, the forward momentum dying as though it had been physically removed.

Four wolves, each one frozen in the position it had occupied when the roar reached it, paws planted against the ground with the locked certainty of something that had been set rather than placed.

They tried to move.

The effort was visible even from where Noah stood— muscles engaging, bodies straining against whatever was holding them, legs pushing in the direction of escape with genuine force and producing nothing.

But despite all their efforts, their paws stayed exactly where they were, their bodies refusing to move.

The will to run was fully present in every one of them and the ability to act on it was simply absent, removed by something that hadn’t touched them physically and hadn’t needed to.

Noah’s eyes went wide.

He stared at the four frozen wolves for a moment, and then he turned to Kael.

"What kind of power is that...?" he asked in disbelief.

’He... commanded them to stop,’ Noah thought, trying to understand what just happened. ’And they simply did.’

He turned to face Kael fully.

His expression was doing something unusual — the composure that normally sat across his features had been replaced by something considerably more complicated.

Marvel was in there, clearly, sitting at the front of it. Confusion was present too, the specific kind that came not from failing to observe something but from observing it clearly and not yet having the framework to place it in.

Kael’s chest puffed out.

It was a small movement given the size of his body, but it carried considerable intention — the posture of a creature that had just done something worth noticing and was making sure the noticing had time to complete itself properly.

He drifted into a lazy circle in the air, wings tilting him through the arc with the unhurried confidence of someone taking a victory lap they considered entirely earned.

He could feel it through the link.

Noah’s surprise, his marvel, the specific quality of impression that was different from polite acknowledgment — Kael felt all of it transmitting from his master’s end of the connection with a clarity that left no room for misinterpretation.

And what it produced in the dragon was something that went past satisfaction into something warmer and less composed.

He was overjoyed!

Not in a way he would have admitted directly, and not in a way his expression fully advertised — the smugness was still there, doing its usual work on the surface.

But underneath it, coming through the link in the other direction whether he intended it to or not, was the simple, genuine pleasure of a creature that had wanted to impress someone it cared about and had succeeded.

Below him, the four wolves remained exactly where they were.

They hadn’t stopped trying to move. The effort was still visible in the tension of their muscles, the strain in their legs, the way each one was oriented toward the forest in the direction of escape while being completely unable to act on that orientation.

Their eyes had gone from panicked to something that sat beyond panic — the specific expression of creatures that had exhausted every option available to them and arrived at the understanding that none of those options were going to produce a result.

They looked, if such a thing could be said of wolves, like they were on the verge of tears.

Noah watched them for a moment longer, then exhaled.

"Are you really going to make me ask directly, Kael?"

The words came out with the mild exasperation of someone who was waiting terribly for an answer.

Kael chuckled.

The sound came out bright and self-satisfied, carrying the energy of someone who had been holding something and was now ready to put it down in the most enjoyable way possible.

"You’re probably wondering what that very awesome and cool trick I just did was, master," he said, the phrasing constructed with a cheerfulness that suggested he had been preparing some version of this delivery since the moment the wolves had frozen.

He paused for exactly long enough to let the setup breathe.

"It’s called a Dragon’s Order."

Noah went still.

"Dragon’s Order...?" he murmured.

The words came out quiet and slow, carrying the particular weight they carried when something landed in a way that required a moment to settle before anything else could happen.

He turned them over in his mind the way he turned significant things over — not rushing past them, giving them the space to mean what they meant.

Kael nodded, the movement carrying the composed satisfaction of someone delivering confirmed information rather than a claim.

"You can also call it Dragon’s Command, I suppose," he added, with the slight air of someone making a concession to alternative terminology they found mildly inferior.

He continued, his tone settling into something that sat between explanation and declaration — the register Kael used when he was being genuinely informative but couldn’t quite separate the information from the pride of being the one delivering it.

"With it, I can command these lowly races and make them bow before me." His eyes dropped briefly to the frozen wolves below, the look on his face carrying a contempt so comfortable it had clearly been there for a long time. "Hmph. They never stood a chance."

Noah said nothing for a moment.

’Command of races weaker than he is...’ he thought.

The implications of it kept expanding the more he held it still.

A Dragon’s Order — an ability that bypassed physical confrontation entirely, that reached past the defensive capabilities of whatever it was directed at and operated directly on their capacity to act.

Not an attack in the conventional sense. Not something that could be blocked or countered or endured through sufficient toughness.

A command, in the most fundamental meaning of the word — something that the target’s body received and obeyed before the target’s will had any meaningful opportunity to intervene.

Directed at races weaker than the one issuing it.

Which meant its effectiveness was tied to the hierarchy of what Kael was — an ancient dragon — relative to what was receiving the command.

Wolves, regardless of their rank or their mutations or their years of accumulation, sat below that hierarchy by a margin that left no room for resistance.

The Dragon’s Order hadn’t needed to overcome them. It had simply needed to be issued.