[Though he keeps a wary eye on the unfamiliar shard-bearers pursuing Manon through the labyrinth of giant roots, Liem’s fingers remain clear of the quiver of heavy quarrels hanging from his waist. Primarily, he doesn’t want any immature shows of aggression to spark a salvageable situation into uncontrolled violence; but he also simply doesn’t need to ready his weapon, not until the moment he needs to shoot it. That’s unusual enough for an arbalist that it may grant some measure of complacency from those who haven’t yet seen him with a crossbow in his hands.

Instead, he speaks a short incantation and gestures with his free hand. Magic gathers about him in a haze of light and shadow and disappears, imbuing him with swiftness — enough to match a running jinba, should he need to leap from her back. He doesn’t do so yet, however, preferring the advantage of height that her back gives him, and the freedom he has to concentrate on things other than where to place his feet.

Despite the man’s unexpected fleetness, Hayame’s long legs eat up the distance between them, taking them past the others who had gone after Manon ahead of them. Liem expects the words that the man tosses back at them, and replies just as readily.]

Don’t be foolish. You’ve a target on your back. At least divest yourself of it first; come back to Heliopolis and tell us what you know.