Harry's eyes narrowed.
There was no telling how the traitor would make his entrance—whether he'd come flying in, concealed with magic, or crawling through the charred rubble with the same strange shadow Adolf and his group used.
Nonetheless, Harry wasn't about to leave himself exposed.
With a deep breath, he whispered under his breath, "Camouflage."
A ripple shimmered through his body. The air around him twisted faintly, and then—
Nothing.
He was gone.
Not even the faintest flicker of his presence remained, almost like he was never there.
[Camouflage] was one of the skills he gained after fully evolving to a manaless mage, and just like the name implied, it completely blended his presence with his surrounding.
It was a true assassin's skill, one perfectly suited for ambushes.
Harry settled into position beside the splintered remains of a charred tree. His breathing slowed. His muscles relaxed.
'Now we wait.' He thought.
