Chapter 438: The Covert Operation
The city lay cloaked in the shroud of night, its tall stone walls casting long shadows under the moonlight. The faint, silvery glow peeked through the wisps of clouds above, offering just enough light to outline the city’s silhouette. Lyan crouched low in the underbrush, his dark attire blending seamlessly with the surrounding shadows. Beside him, Ravia and the infiltrators waited, their breaths quiet and controlled. The tension in the air was palpable, each soldier’s focus honed to a razor edge. The faint swing of lanterns atop the walls created rhythmic patterns of light and darkness, illuminating the Varzadian patrols pacing methodically along the parapets.
Lyan’s sharp eyes narrowed as he observed the patrols atop the city walls. His gaze darted across their movements with the precision of a master strategist, noting the rhythm of their pacing, the angles of their lanterns, and the subtle hesitations in their routes. The lanterns swung in predictable arcs, casting fleeting glimmers over the parapets, and Lyan could already pinpoint the areas where their vigilance waned. One guard scratched his head absently, stepping slightly out of formation to lean against the wall for a moment longer than he should have. Another paused briefly at the edge of his route, his gaze fixed downward, lost in thought.
His mind worked like clockwork, cataloging every weakness with the detached focus of an investigator.
(Too predictable. These guards are either overconfident or undertrained. Their patrol overlaps are sloppy, and they rely too much on their walls for security.)
He gestured subtly to Ravia, who was beside him, her form still and calm despite the tension. She nodded in understanding, raising her hand to signal the group to halt. The infiltrators froze in place, their silence absolute. Ravia’s dagger twirled briefly in her hand before vanishing back into its sheath—a reassurance of her readiness.
Ahead of them, Lyan’s Shadow Servants slithered across the terrain like living shadows, their movements eerily silent as they melted into the darkness. They glided across the stones, testing weak points in the wall’s foundation and silently marking areas where footholds were secure or where stones were less sturdy. Lyan’s sharp gaze followed them, noting their findings and weaving them into his growing mental map of the city’s defenses.
(Convenient indeed,)
Griselda mused, her voice tinged with sharp amusement.
(But don’t mistake carelessness for an easy win. Overconfidence has killed better men.)
Arturia’s voice followed, stern and focused.
(Remain vigilant. Justice must be swift and precise. You have no room for mistakes.)