'Don't tell me… they're using a miniature version of my class.'
The thought settled heavily in Bruce's mind.
It wasn't just that the wolves healed faster. It was worse.
They were adapting.
Each time they regenerated, their bodies grew denser. Tougher. Their muscles compacted unnaturally, fur hardening like layered armor. Even Ash's Soul Flame, once their bane, no longer tore through them as cleanly. The flames still burned, but resistance was forming.
For the first time.
Bruce felt pressure.
Real pressure.
Never once had mutant beasts pushed him this far.
The Moon Wolves were absurd.
Their fur defense rivaled the enhanced Ice Direwolves. Their agility rivaled the Shadow Wolves. Their regeneration was relentless. If they weren't killed outright, they recovered in seconds. Limbs regrew. Organs reformed. Pain meant nothing to them anymore.
They charged him without hesitation.
Without fear.
Without restraint.
Without pain.
