Drogon glared at the two remaining Tier 3 Iron Fighters he had left. He knew full well that he couldn't afford to antagonize them because he hadn't fully healed, nor would he be able to perform his Wraith Palm for a long while.
Even though they feared him, he wasn't about to stir the flickering flames of betrayal already festering in their hearts.
Instead of his usual response to their treasonous words which would have been to end their lives on the spot he remained unnervingly still,
Knowing he couldn't allow them to sense even a glimmer of his weakness, Drogon chose to ignore the treachery that had spilled from Kaelen's mouth.
"How far north are we?" he asked, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he stepped toward their bowing figures.
Azruk hesitated for a heartbeat before answering. "We are at the beginnings of the Borderlands, my Lord."
Drogon let out a low, guttural growl. "That means human territories are close by."
