Looking at his hand briefly, he furrowed his eyebrows before raising his dagger, keeping it up alongside his guard.
I'm stupid. Making careless mistakes at this stage of Purgatory...it's like I'm trying to die or something. I can't slip up anymore, I can't afford to, he thought.
The steps were so light it was impossible to listen to unless he focused all of his attention on the minuscule sounds they produced, only audible by the nature of the verdant-ridden field.
Whispering as low as he could, he chanted, "Araphel: Particle Shade."
Through the blades of lengthy grass, the shadowy particles gently bloomed, carried by an unseen wind as the additional sense acted as recon for him.
Two on my right; one close, one far. One to the left, three behind...one ahead, close, he thought.
The range wasn't far-reaching due to his low-call, but all that mattered to him were his immediate surroundings.
