Yarely.

with a relaxing thrust, the blade flew fluently out of his hand. cutting through the air in a swift whoosh as if it belonged in the air. in the trees, all creatures muffled up, as if sensing the changing atmosphere. he was familiar with the sound it would make when it tore through the skull of the false god, splitting her confident smile evenly in 2, tearing through her brain, denying her everlasting life. he knew because this was his purpose. it had always been his purpose.

飛んでナイフの音。