The stage 4 guard walked at the head of the convoy with the same lazy swagger Arlott remembered from the forest, boots dragging slightly against the dirt as if the effort of marching bored him.
But his eyes told a different story.
Sharp. Alert. Scanning the treeline every few seconds despite his relaxed posture.
'Still cautious, huh.' Arlott crouched low behind a cluster of bushes, watching the man's gaze sweep past his hiding spot without pausing.
He picked up a small rock, weighing it in his palm before tossing it into a nearby bush with a soft rustle.
The guard's head snapped toward the sound instantly.
"You two, check that out," he barked, jerking his chin toward the bush.
Two guards peeled off from the group, swords drawn, moving cautiously toward the disturbance. Third circle, both of them, their mana signatures faint but present.
'Perfect.'
