"Bret, have the second forward ground teams begin to move out. Make sure all barriers are up…. Do not get caught unaware…." Blake could only think this was the reason why the others died. Being caught unaware and not blocking the attack.
"You going?" Bret asked. He looked a little concerned.
"Mmm…. I will be sending a big present to the rear line." Blake flapped his wings and flew into the air. He was more concerned about the dragonic than the elves. He had faith in Noa's abilities to pull through some kind of miracle there.
Leaving Bret to handle the front line, Blake flew through the air just below the battle that was taking place in the skies overhead. He reached into his space pouch and took out a round silver ball. He injected a large amount of condensed mana into it before transforming into his werewolf form, locking his target towards the back line and throwing it with everything he had.
