Darion approached Vrethka's outer gate, disguised as one of its guards.
He was wearing the armor he had taken from the dead soldier, the heavy metal plates fitting snugly against his body. The mask covered his entire face, its dark surface cold against his skin. His sword hung at his side, and his movements were deliberately steady, each step confident.
From the outside, he probably looked like any other soldier returning to his post. Just another guard, finishing a patrol, heading back inside the walls. Nothing unusual. Nothing suspicious. Nothing worth a second glance.
But inside the mask, Darion's expression was anything but relaxed. His heart was beating faster than usual, a steady drumbeat against his ribs that he couldn't quite slow down.
His palms were sweating inside the gloves. His jaw was tight. Every instinct was telling him to turn around, to retreat into the forest, to find another way.
'Alright, Darion. Just act normal.'
He continued walking.
