After the intense interrogation, Orion stepped out of the royal residence of Revlon City, a glint of defiance in his eyes. He strode into the bustling streets, his demeanor unshaken by the scrutiny he had just endured. The guards he had bested earlier glared at him as he left their confines, their eyes smoldering with unspoken resentment. Yet, bound by the Throne's decree, they could do nothing but watch as he walked away.
Orion moved confidently, refraining the use of magic to hasten his return to the inn. His instincts told him he was being shadowed by two individuals. They concealed their mana flows with an expertise that marked them as elite, most likely from the Throne's personal cohort. Even Orion, with his exceptional senses could only sense their presence and failed to pin point their location. "They are good," orion admitted.
"Not too naive, then," he muttered, acknowledging Teress's precautionary measure.