Seeing that he couldn't squeeze any more useful information out of them, David flicked his tail and ordered, "Pack up these long-eared ones for me; I'm keeping them for a reason."
He thought for a moment and then added a reminder, "Better keep them in this state—clear-headed yet obedient. Don't break them on me."
Damn it, given his understanding of the Drows' disposition, he was somewhat uneasy, fearing that by the time they reached the Royal Capital, the Elf prisoners in the Drow's hands would all turn into drooling idiots who could only moan and groan.
"Yes! Your Highness," Naferutali instinctively responded, simultaneously binding the Drow prisoners together and loading them onto the White Dragon Mofei, who had approached, bruised, swollen, and limping.
But she soon felt that something was off.
