Damien did not move immediately after the interrogation and killing of the captured demon.
He climbed to higher ground and watched.
For two days.
The eastern stronghold had not relocated. It had not scattered. But its patrol pattern had changed. Slightly tighter. Slightly more alert.
They knew one of their soldiers was missing.
They did not know how.
That was important.
Damien lay flat against a thick branch high above the canopy, essence compressed to near invisibility. Below, two demonic soldiers moved in a staggered patrol formation. One ahead. One trailing behind by several dozen meters.
Smart.
But not smart enough.
He had learned something critical from the tortured soldier.
The captains monitored suppression grids.
Which meant fluctuations would draw attention.
Loud battles. Essence bursts. Unstable deaths.
All of that would ripple outward.
He could not afford noise.
If demons began dying violently and leaving residue behind, captains would investigate.
