[Alright, can you handle your city?]
I sent the message, leaning back against the cold railing of my chariot. I pondered for a heartbeat before adding, [And how much volume are we talking about in these other two armies?]
[At least the same number in each column,] Fang's reply was frantic, lacking its usual calculated poise. [A million each. And let's be real—if I could hold this position alone, would I even be asking you for help?]
[Then… what will I get out of this?] I asked bluntly.
Internally, my mind was racing. I knew this massive pincer movement was a perfect way for that Illusionist bastard to slip past the tight net I had been painstakingly weaving around his neck. I was also desperate for souls; a million-man army was essentially a million-soul banquet waiting to be harvested.
