Arthur waited for the night to fully blend in with his surroundings. The woods were completely dark, the white moonlight coming down on the entire forest—giving it an eerie ambience. It was completely cold, but he had shrouded himself in protective mana to keep his body warm. This part of the forest was so cold that he could see his own steamy breath as he breathed strongly.
He was watching the slave camp from a distance, taking his time to count how many enemies, and if any of them were magic users. He had counted a total of seventeen men with only eight being magic users among them.
Using his combat knowledge, he was able to study carefully who and who was skilled in combat and who wasn't. He had to take out the weaker ones secretly to avoid alerting any of them.
