Chapter 239: The Shadow in the Smog
The Ironhold didn't have a night cycle; it just had "Smog Shift." The massive furnaces in the lower districts vented their exhaust at 0200 hours, blanketing the city in a cocktail of sulfur and mana residue that was thick enough to chew.
Perfect weather for a background character.
I slipped out of the Arcadia guest quarters through the ventilation shaft in the laundry room. The front door was guarded by Knight-level sentries, and Arthur was likely meditating in the common room, waiting to catch anyone breaking curfew.
I dropped into an alleyway in District 9, pulling my hood up. I wasn't wearing my academy uniform. I was dressed in a ragged mechanic's jumpsuit I'd bought off a drunk dwarf three hours ago.
[Passive Skill Active: Bland Presence]
[Effect: Your existence is easily overlooked. People's eyes tend to slide off you.]
