"I never expected you to spill anything." That calm tone was back.

He didn't explain that yes, actually, he did know. Or that they were fairly common in his world as well. The only weapon proven to kill demons back home was the Soul Sword. Which he couldn't wield, as far as he knew.

Death by exsanguination or asphyxiation from one's own blood was cruel, even for him, time to end this quickly. He pulled the slimmest from the set in his hand, studying. The blade was hard enough to go through bone, a nick to the aorta quickest. But it would bleed through the other wounds. Not much to be done about that. He tossed it almost like a dart, again more powerfully than his movements would attest to, sinking it into the hilt, serving the aorta from the heart.