Proudmoore Keep.
After entering Hook Point, Number Zero kept Sprint active, never stopping to rest.
Without using Preparation beforehand, Number Zero would have run out of strength long ago.
Racing through the shadows inevitably led to the occasional loss of control.
Besides, the heart of the keep was a gathering place for High-Rank Stealth Users. All of them had come to the keep that day to report their intelligence.
With so many people moving at high speed and no traffic control in the shadows, collisions were common.
Bang!
"What are you doing?!"
Number Seven collided head-on with Number Zero. Slightly heavier, Number Zero landed on top of Number Seven.
Both hands pressed against Number Seven's chest, while Number Zero's head slipped toward the right ear.
Panting hard, Number Zero kept blowing hot breaths against Number Seven's earlobe.
"Can't you watch where you're going? So reckless." Number Seven bit down hard on a lip, suppressed the flush creeping up the neck, and shoved Number Zero aside.
Being knocked out of Shadowstep was no trivial matter.
For low-ranking Stealth Users, being forcibly dragged out of Shadowstep could cause dizziness at best, and mental derangement or brain damage at worst.
Plenty of incompetent Stealth Users loved ambushing other Class Practitioners out on quests. Those were exactly the sort who regularly got dragged out of Shadowstep. They were more or less brain-damaged already.
Number Zero was a High-Rank Rogue. Although the Spatial Rift had caused no mental damage, the body had still taken a considerable blow.
"I'm in a hurry." Number Zero studied Number Seven doubtfully, both hands making grasping motions.
Sharp-minded as ever, Number Seven noticed the strange movements and immediately turned away.
"I can't be bothered with you. If it's urgent, hurry inside and report. Admiral Daelin is still there."
"No, are