The sky was dark with thick clouds.
Rex stood at the gates of the Arathi Tribe, gazing at the woods outside.
He had chosen not to leave the Arathi Tribe. The deaths of those two Infinite Dragonflight members had forced him to delay his plans.
There was no helping it. There had originally been five Infinite Dragonflight members left, and Rex had known their locations, but two of them had died.
That left Rex unable to determine exactly which two had been killed.
Although Rex had his suspicions about the dead dragons, he guessed they were the ones among the Trolls.
But there had been three Infinite Dragonflight members among the Trolls.
Only two had died, leaving one remaining. There was simply no way to tell which tribe that survivor was in.
The Troll Tribes were far apart, after all. Traveling back and forth to search them would take a great deal of time.
With no other choice, Rex abandoned the idea of leaving the Arathi Tribe. His belief that the dead Infinite Dragonflight members were among the Trolls was still only a guess.
A guess was not a fact. The difference was that a guess could be wrong, while a fact could not.
Thus, Rex had postponed his plan to take the initiative, but he had no intention of passively waiting to be attacked either.
Looking at the sky outside, Rex strode out of the Arathi Tribe and into a nearby stretch of woods. The trees had thick trunks, and their lush branches and leaves intertwined into a dense canopy.
Upon reaching a clearing, he took out the token the Bronze Dragonflight had given him and began summoning them. In this world, where he had no flying mount and his mobility was limited, taking the offensive was not very