"Sssss…"
Fumio fills his lungs with the fresh December air, the satisfaction that should come with it does not arrive however, as he catches a whiff of out of place scents, making him freeze mid-breath.
'God damn it.' He curses internally.
'Damn ritual…'
He was too focused on his ritual that he failed to catch the presence of potential enemies.
He then infuses his elixir to the atmospheric spiritual energy in his surroundings, and just like radar, senses three crouched figures hiding behind some trees and foliage.
He shakes his head, feeling stupid that he put his guard down against that many potentially hostile actors, two of whom are carrying what he suspects are handguns, based on the shape he can make out of the objects in their hands.
He wonders however why none of the strangers have attacked yet. He can only hope that they are not as hostile as his previous visitors, as he feels he already spilled enough blood for the day.