"Having barely escaped death, doing unnecessary things has shortened my life by a few more minutes."
The cold expression, now half averted, spoke emotionless words to the burly man blocking his way. The black blade penetrated from his left shoulder blade through his split muscles and tendons. The blade, dark red from blood and body heat, was hard to distinguish from the normally crimson patterns, and it cut through his back.
The air, carrying smells of ozone, rust, and burning, threaded through nearly seventy percent of the diamondized Bodoe Village. In the mournful wind, cries of death and defiance could faintly be heard, whispering regrets and affections that filled the air, along with the thoughts of the wind stirring the hem of a black coat and a long, butterfly-winged necklace.
The wind tugged at the disheveled fringe of his hair, capturing a view of the bearded man clenching the [Divine Will] between his broken arms with every fiber of his being.
