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Chapter 33: From the Tense Routine
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Chapter 35: The Path I Must Take
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... y in the air. Like a painter brushing a canvas, I draw a line with all my nerves concentrated at the tip of this longsword.
Sssseuuuuk──
The noise remains. The tearing of air by the blade is inevitable.
However, Freya had instructed me to make no sound, and indeed, her sword had been unmistakably silent.
Fweeeeeee──
The wind brushes the tip of my cheek. The rustling of fallen leaves. Dirt and dust spreading beneath my feet.
I draw with the sword as ...
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