The thought that others might join the hunt is something that has occurred to Emet-Selch. It's not anything he's currently concerning himself too much over - even despite the urges he knows full well that Elidibus is likely more than the equal of any other - but he is aware of it. Likewise, he is fully aware that relying overmuch on his soulsight will prove a drain. A comparatively small one, yes, but one that the drips and snatches of the fear-born energy he is gaining will not sustain forever.
Fortunately, the darkness helps, in that regard. While he cannot truly see in the dark, even with the blessing of his patron, it does serve to give his eyes time enough to recover from the earlier blast of light. Enough that he does not need to rely solely on the form of sight that will only serve to drain his powers.
The sigil is still trivial to see, even so. Something that would barely have posed a challenge and though he is yet being ridden by the compulsion to chase, he knows Elidibus will be well aware of his aetherial sight. Enough to have his eyes flicking across the alley instead, and the purely physical barrier standing between him and his prey.
It takes him no more than a moment to decide. The sword he bears is only going to be a drain, and with surprising accuracy, he throws it at the sigil; the resulting explosion of magic dissipating the sword itself as it triggers the trap, neatly clearing the path for him.
He does not resummon his weapon. He does not need it. Not here among the shadows, and that single glimpse of Elidibus rounding the corner is enough, as he reaches for a darkness that is not directly fear-touched - the shadows themselves. Shadows that Elidibus will find rising up off the ground as if to trip him, or snag on stumbling feet and hold.
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Fortunately, the darkness helps, in that regard. While he cannot truly see in the dark, even with the blessing of his patron, it does serve to give his eyes time enough to recover from the earlier blast of light. Enough that he does not need to rely solely on the form of sight that will only serve to drain his powers.
The sigil is still trivial to see, even so. Something that would barely have posed a challenge and though he is yet being ridden by the compulsion to chase, he knows Elidibus will be well aware of his aetherial sight. Enough to have his eyes flicking across the alley instead, and the purely physical barrier standing between him and his prey.
It takes him no more than a moment to decide. The sword he bears is only going to be a drain, and with surprising accuracy, he throws it at the sigil; the resulting explosion of magic dissipating the sword itself as it triggers the trap, neatly clearing the path for him.
He does not resummon his weapon. He does not need it. Not here among the shadows, and that single glimpse of Elidibus rounding the corner is enough, as he reaches for a darkness that is not directly fear-touched - the shadows themselves. Shadows that Elidibus will find rising up off the ground as if to trip him, or snag on stumbling feet and hold.