Dark Watching

Hank expressionlessly fetched a small wooden tube engraved with an Isolation Rune. Inside were more than a dozen specially made bone slips.

The slips came in two colors. Most were grayish-white, representing "remaining behind," while only four were dark red, representing "reconnaissance."

There were two reconnaissance teams, each requiring two Advanced Apprentices to lead them. Apart from the two wizards, there were eighteen people present.

Hank placed the tube on the table, and the drawing officially began.

"Wait. Copperbeard, Iron Anvil, and Ian Marcus—you three don't need to draw."

Copperbeard seemed quite pleased with the arrangement and muttered, "Finally, someone with some sense."

Iron Anvil merely nodded in silence.

Sterling's voice finally eased the taut string in Ian's heart.

He stepped out as instructed, retreating a step alongside Copperbeard and Iron Anvil.

No one objected. The three of them would be far more useful defending the camp than fighting on the battlefield.

If even specialized talents had to be sent to the front to face life-or-death choices, then the situation had already reached an irreparable point.

Just as Ian understood the rules of war, core technical personnel in the logistics chain—Potion Masters, Rune Masters, Alchemists, and the like—did indeed receive a degree of protection under non-extreme circumstances.

The small hope in his heart had become reality, but what followed was not relief. It was a deeper, heavier oppression.

The Forge camp was a logistical base and should have been relatively safe, yet the collapse of the front line had pushed it into the eye of the storm.

Even specialized technical personnel had begun facing indirect choices between life and death.

This battlefield truly made no sense at all.

The drawing began, and the atmosphere was so heavy it seemed water could drip from it.

As the team leader, Hank stepped forward first and drew a slip with a blank expression... grayish-white.

Lina followed right after him and also drew grayish-white.

Poison Fang gritted his teeth and drew a slip. His expression changed the instant he saw it, but he quickly steadied himself... dark red!

He cursed under his breath and moved to the side designated for "reconnaissance."

Scarface luckily drew grayish-white. The companion beside him had trembling hands, yet still drew dark red, his face immediately turning deathly pale.

One of Elinor's guards also drew dark red.

Very soon, the four "unlucky ones" were decided: Poison Fang, an apprentice under Scarface named Gray Rat, Elinor's guard Rex, and an Advanced Apprentice from the Forge camp.

The last man was named Leon Osborne, the Osborne Family's only Advanced Apprentice stationed in this camp.

Ian's heart stirred, and he gave him an inconspicuous glance.

The intelligence Kenna had brought back surfaced in his mind once more, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

Leon seemed to notice Ian's gaze. He turned his head and gave Ian a friendly nod.

Ian remained expressionless and returned the nod faintly before turning to look at the other three "lucky ones."

Sterling looked at the four and said solemnly:

"You four—Poison Fang and Rex, you will form one team. Hank will assign your area of operations and provide intelligence support.

"The other team, Gray Rat and Leon, will choose one of yourselves as a temporary captain.

"Your objective is to scout for and seize opportunities to ambush the infiltration teams of Blood Bat and Shadow Stinger, slowing their assembly and reconnaissance efforts.

"You do not need to insist on wiping them out. Focus on harassment and gathering intelligence.

"Remember, your lives are more important than killing enemies. If you discover that you cannot defeat them, I permit you to withdraw to the camp.

"Contribution Points for this mission will be doubled, and once it is over, you will have half a month to rest."

The four wore varying expressions—some gloomy, some fearful, some forcing themselves to remain calm.

The meeting ended amid stifling tension. Those who had drawn the slips went off to prepare, while everyone else dispersed with heavy thoughts.

By the time Ian headed back to the potion room, night had fully fallen.

The camp had expanded, and the atmosphere was somewhat livelier, but the tension had not lessened. Instead, it had become even stranger because of the newcomers' panic and the unease of the unknown.

His sharp senses noticed that, since the meeting had ended, an indistinct gaze seemed to occasionally settle on him.

The gaze was not fierce. It felt more like a cold appraisal and covert scrutiny.

It came from shadowed corners or gaps in the crowd, vanishing in an instant.

An illusion? Or... Alarm bells rang in Ian's mind.

He had always kept a low profile in the camp and had not made any enemies. No one should have been deliberately watching him.

The Osborne Family? Is it you?

The bloodline family, the Osbornes—the family that had some unclear connection with Nolan—had been investigating the truth behind Nolan's disappearance.

Nolan had died by Ian's hand. Though he had cleaned things up thoroughly, there were no walls without cracks.

Could this family have already uncovered his past and begun taking notice of him?

Killing intent slowly rose in Ian's heart. Some parts of his life after transmigrating were unusual; anyone who investigated carefully would find something amiss.

Without revealing anything, he maintained his usual pace and demeanor, even nodding greetings to several apprentices he encountered along the way.

After returning to the potion room, he did not light the lamps. Instead, he silently stood in the shadows just inside the door.

The formidable Mental Power of an Advanced Apprentice, coupled with the Eye of Vigilance, heightened his perception to its limit.

Like an invisible web, it silently spread beyond the door.

A moment later, in the shadows of a corner piled with miscellaneous items diagonally across from the potion room—

He precisely caught an extremely faint fluctuation of breathing and heartbeat, nearly blended into the surroundings.

That person's concealment skills were superb, enough to almost deceive the senses of an ordinary Advanced Apprentice.

But Ian's Mental Power had undergone several rounds of tempering through skill Limit Breaks. Its refinement had long surpassed that of ordinary Advanced Apprentices.

He had also just broken through recently, causing his total Mental Power to surge once again. He easily spotted the subtle flaw.

Someone really is there. Ian's gaze turned cold.

He did not alert the enemy. Instead, he began handling the materials needed for tomorrow's potion brewing as usual.

The Spirit Infusion Wizard's Hand worked soundlessly, making only the faint noises it normally did.

At the same time, he split off a thread of attention and carefully "listened" to and "felt" that presence through the slight obstruction of the wall and clutter.

The presence was concealed and obscure, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible earthy stench.

It was completely different from the burning heat, exhaustion, or vigilance that characterized most apprentices in the camp.

More importantly, Ian vaguely sensed an extremely familiar bloodline fluctuation within its energy ripples.

The aura of a Rock-armored Demon Bear!

Ian knew this aura too well. He had encountered it countless times while practicing the Bloodline Refinement Technique.

For several days after he drank the Rock Bear Potion, he had carried this same faint earthy stench. It slowly left his body after a few days, becoming difficult to detect afterward.

Why hadn't Leon carried this aura before? Could it be that he hadn't taken the family's bloodline path?

Through his Mental Power, Ian sensed that unlike the nearly nonexistent aura he had deeply concealed, the Rock Bear traits on the other person were far more apparent.

Looks like it really is that family. Ian's thoughts raced.

The other party was lurking and watching rather than confronting him directly, which meant they either were not certain or were waiting for an opportunity.

Thinking of Nolan's curse before his death, Ian's gaze gradually darkened.

You dared to come sniffing around my doorstep. You're courting death!