Chapter 966: Infiltrating
The night swallowed them whole. They knew the difficulty they were facing coming to this place. There could be numerous people in the level 50s and even some in the level 60s. That’s why Ayame’s group engaged in guerilla-style warfare; they knew a full, head on confrontation was suicidal. Their only job was to stall until the infiltration group got the job done.
Blossom was the first to vanish, her form flickering—no, glitching—out of existence. A shimmer of fractured space, a ripple of unreality, then nothing. She was gone. Void magic devoured her presence. Only the faintest distortion in the air, that was, if one knew exactly what to look for, betrayed where the Void Stalker now hunted.
Kitsara, by contrast, didn’t bother disappearing. Instead, the world itself lied on her behalf. Her form blurred into that of a harmless-looking little butterfly, blending with the wind, the trees, and the ground. Where her figure stood a mere moment ago, there was now just open air and empty forest, and the little insect flapping its wings happily.
Feng... Well, Feng tried her best to keep up with the ladies. Her footfalls grew lighter, her breathing quieter. But she wasn’t a master of stealth; her class wasn’t all about that. She was here for other things she could provide. With that being said, what she lacked in finesse, she did her best to make up for in sheer determination.
She didn’t have to feel too much pressure about holding the group back because she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t cut out for stealth. Despite his myriad of spells, Quinlan also lacked the ability to just disappear on demand.
They were less than a mile out when the first patrol appeared. Three armored knights in emerald cloaks, lanterns swinging in their hands, weapons sheathed at their hips. Complacent. Relaxed.
Quinlan couldn’t help but have flashbacks to how the guards were acting in the outpost where they met Iris and Rosie’s parent Geim. That outpost hadn’t been invaded in centuries, so the soldiers weren’t on high alert.
Quinlan didn’t even have to give instructions. He didn’t need to. His women were predators trained far beyond the standards of most combatants. They knew what they needed to do.
A ripple of violet static flickered. One knight’s head tilted. "Did you hear-"
*Crunch!* A gurgle. His body seized as Blossom’s clawed gauntlet plunged into his throat from nowhere. These people weren’t weaklings, however. Alastair Greenvale wasn’t a man who lacked in funds or manpower. He didn’t need to station low-level nobodies to protect his assets. There were probably no guards below level 30 here, perhaps not even below 40.