Mordred remained silent, motionless in the complete darkness. Hidden within the shelter of the ruins of an old Parisian building, he had been staring at the dimensional portal for several hours now, methodically observing every detail of the draconic guards' behavior.
Every breath, every gesture, every movement of the soldiers was precisely analyzed by his vigilant gaze. Time flowed slowly, mercilessly. A cold tension ran through his body as minutes turned into hours.
The draconic guards, in their humanoid form, patrolled regularly, displaying exemplary military discipline. They never stopped for more than a few moments in the same place, their conversations limited to brief and formal exchanges, leaving little room for error or inattention.
