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The trouble was, a skilled wrobel might still be able to conceal itself even from mementori, especially if it had experience fighting other wrobels.

But it wouldn't be quite so clear cut as with the other senses, either. With those, Sparrows had an indisputable advantage so long as they realized what senses needed to be blocked. Why they didn't simply block all senses all the time, he couldn't rightly say. Perhaps it was more taxing for them. Whatever the case, mementori was at least contestable for him. Even if the wrobel realized what he was doing and tried to block him, he would be able to fight back.

Because aura was everywhere. In all things. Around them. And complicated still further by time. The bird could try to conceal itself within one aura, but the disappearance from its memory would leave a noticeable trail. And plus, one aura would in turn impact those around it. The auras of the trees. Animals. Even in the atmosphere itself.

The cascading ripple effect would be difficult, if not impossible, to fully hide. Only the most powerful wrobels in history would be able to accomplish such a feat without flaw.

According to Grigozo's memories, that was. Banda hoped the reaper wasn't wrong about that as he took the plunge and activated mementori.

Immediately, his body began to burn. A consuming flame over the entirety of his being. Damned souls trying to tear his flesh apart from the inside, to claw their way to freedom, to seize his conduit away from his mind.

He suppressed them with vitriol. Raw anger. Old and long-tempered. Burning hotter than any of those wretched fools could. It required all of his and Grigozo's concentration. One had to maintain mementori, and the other had to remain aware of the environment around them, of the unfolding battle.