Leon turned toward the epicenter of the explosion.
The dust and debris still hung thick in the air, obscuring direct vision across the blast zone, but that wasn't what he was relying on. His primary concern was practical and straightforward—that thin man had been carrying things.
The wand alone had been extraordinary, seven runes of what seemed like genuinely ancient craftsmanship. The cloak had radiated the quiet signature of a high-quality artifact. And anyone operating at that level, commanding an army of that scale, almost certainly had a spatial ring on them containing resources Leon didn't want to simply leave buried in a crater.
Please don't all be shredded.
He moved through the settling debris at a measured pace, picking his way through the aftermath, his spatial awareness extending outward as his direct vision failed in the obscuring dust.
He hadn't gone halfway when he stopped.
What his spatial awareness was showing him wasn't anything he'd anticipated finding.
