Marked.
But he stopped there.
Even this was risky.
He could mark no more than one at a time—two, if the academy's detection wards weren't finely tuned that day.
But today?
They were.
He could feel it in the ambient air pressure. The subtle resistance of arcane scrutiny drifting just beneath the casual weight of sunlight. The Arcadia wards had grown sharper.
More alert.
Probably due to the scouts.
Probably because of people like him.
If he overcast—if his mana dipped just a bit too high—someone would notice.
And he could not afford notice.
He rolled his shoulder slightly, adjusted his collar, and kept walking.
Two marked.
That would have to suffice for now.
Leonard flexed his fingers once—lightly, casually, as though stretching—and felt the resistance in the air press just a little tighter against his skin. Yes. That was the limit.
