Inside the dim watchtower beneath the purification tower, a pair of a scout and a marksman observed an area around eight hundred meters in front of them with a high-definition dark-vision telescope. The clock showed it was time for breakfast, and they could hear the sound of footsteps.
When the marksman turned around, it wasn't one of the people on mess duty, however, but the highest-rank individual within their advance group: the saint class Karna Ishtera.
"Commander," the marksman gave a casual salute, which Kar replied by raising the two rations in his hand.
He dropped the rations to the marksman's hand and watched the line beside the scout. "How's the situation?"
"Nothing much, just two spy birds," the scout pointed at two carcasses a hundred meters from the border of their safe zone, where the light from the purification tower ended. And then the scout shifted toward the field they had been watching all night. "No more addition to their troops."
