As the cultists move in- and are efficiently dispatched by his allies- Connor sees the area around the outcropping of red lyrium gradually clear out of cultists. It would seem they were not anticipating anyone would target it, or over-estimated their abilities to kill any who would dare.

He sweeps the feet out from under the foolhardy cultist, making him faceplant neatly into the mud. Someone else will take care of him. Connor ignores him completely as he regards the trees ringing the hideout. After a moment's hesitation, he springs onto the gnarled roots of a great oak, sprints up its trunk and hunches on one of its great branches all in one fluid movement.