The day dragged on.
The convoy moved like a serpent through the woods, long and coiled, every section aware of its own vulnerability. Trees pressed closer on either side, thick with moss and hanging vines. The forest was silent in that unnatural way—too quiet, too still.
Julian stayed alert, walking near the last wagon. His eyes swept the treetops, the underbrush, the shifting shoulders of the guards ahead of him.
Something's coming.
He didn't know what exactly. But he could feel it. A ripple in the air. A hush before the storm.
Celeste gave the signal for another short halt—standard protocol for rotating scouts and checking formations—but the tension didn't ease. It thickened.
Julian noticed Toman again.
The man was at the edge of the camp perimeter, crouched by a tree, ostensibly fixing a strap on his greaves. But something was off. His stance was too relaxed. His eyes flicked toward the tree line—not scanning, but watching.
Waiting.
Julian drifted closer, careful not to draw attention. He grabbed a waterskin from the wagon and pretended to take a long drink as he leaned on the side, eyes half-lidded.
From his new angle, he could see it clearly.
Toman wasn't adjusting anything. He was carving something into the bark.
A faint, quick etching, barely noticeable. Just a few lines. But it wasn't random.
A signal.
Julian set the waterskin down slowly, heart beating a little faster now.
Caught you.
He didn't confront him. That would be foolish. Too early. Too obvious. If Toman was the leak, there were two possible outcomes: he was working alone, or he wasn't.
Either way, acting too soon could spook the others.
Julian took a step back and made his way toward the command wagon where Celeste and Lilia had convened for the latest terrain report. But before he could reach them, he heard it.
A sharp whistle. Then silence.
The convoy froze.
"Positions!" Celeste barked. Swords were drawn. Shields raised. Awakened abilities flared across the formation—embers in palms, wind stirring underfoot, faint pulses of magic humming in the air.
Julian ducked low beside the wagon just as the first arrow screamed from the treeline, burying itself in a guard's neck.
Chaos exploded.
Bandits charged from the forest—fast, coordinated, brutal. There weren't many, but they moved like professionals. No yelling. No wasted movement. Just swift, surgical violence.
Julian didn't reach for a weapon. Not yet. He moved.
He bolted between the wagons, helping pull an unarmed supply runner to cover, his eyes still tracking Toman.
The man wasn't fighting.
He had slipped away from the formation—just far enough to disappear into the trees during the distraction.
There it is.
Julian gave chase.
He didn't yell. Didn't warn anyone. This wasn't about glory.
It was about leverage.
The trees swallowed him quickly, branches whipping past his face as he followed Toman's fading presence. The man was quick—probably boosted by some minor agility skill—but Julian was lighter, quieter.
He found him in a clearing.
Toman knelt by a boulder, prying something loose from beneath it—a leather pouch wrapped in oilskin. Documents? A map? Gold?
Didn't matter. The proof was here.
Julian didn't hesitate. He stepped from the brush and spoke low and sharp.
"Drop it."
Toman spun, eyes wide, and then narrowed.
"You?"
"Surprised?"
"You're just a servant."
Julian smiled coldly. "Not a stupid one."
Toman lunged.
Julian was ready. He ducked, slipped under the man's outstretched arm, and slammed his elbow into Toman's ribs. The man grunted, staggered, then drew a short blade with surprising speed.
Julian backed off fast, no matter how confident he was in his skill, he was just an F ranked Awakened while Toman was an E ranked, he was also unarmed. He doesn't stand a chance in a fight.
But he didn't need to beat him.
He just needed a delay.
A sharp whistle echoed from behind them, Lilia's signal.
She burst through the trees moments later, sword already in hand, her eyes scanning the scene.
She didn't ask questions.
One strike. Clean. Precise.
Toman dropped to the ground, unconscious, blood pooling from a deep cut across his thigh.
Lilia turned to Julian, panting slightly.
"You followed him."
Julian nodded. "He carved a mark before the attack. I didn't confront him… figured it'd be better if I had a witness."
Lilia looked down at the pouch he'd dropped. She crouched, peeled it open, and whistled softly.
"Coordinates. Message logs. Routes."
She stood, her expression unreadable.
"You just saved a lot of lives," she said finally.
Julian met her gaze. "I'm not just a servant."
"No," she said quietly. "You're not."
She stepped closer, voice dropping.
"Don't tell Celeste. Not yet. Let me handle it."
Julian frowned. "She needs to know."
"She will. But I want to see how she reacts once we test her response to this information. If she's clean, she'll act accordingly. If not…"
She let the implication hang.
Julian nodded slowly. "Alright."
They stood in silence for a beat, the sounds of distant battle fading as the skirmish wound down.
Then Lilia looked at him, something unreadable in her eyes.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Julian."
"So are you," he replied.
She smirked.
"Good. I'd hate to be the only one."