If he decided to join hands with that Dragon Overlord, things would spiral out of control faster than I could stabilise them.
I had a trophy to claim—a prize I had spent too much effort securing—and I had no intention of letting it slip through my fingers now.
To prevent that unholy alliance, I needed to launch a feint, a calculated distraction to keep the players on the board exactly where I wanted them.
I opened my interface and pulled up my friend list, sending a priority ping to Fang.
[Do you have a lock on the Dragon Archlord's current position? What about his legion? Are they anywhere near the Jersey City perimeter?]
Fang's response was nearly instantaneous, a testament to his own network's efficiency.
[He's currently entrenched in the west, roughly one hundred and twenty miles from your current coordinates. His main forces haven't mobilised for a long march yet; they're keeping their activities tight, strictly within a twenty-mile radius of the Archlord himself.]
