Fang of an Infant Crystal Serpent

“It seemed I misjudged your skills as well as your character.” Master Hjalmar spoke as he stood back on his feet, his strength returning quickly. “I am sorry, friend, perhaps this loss will teach me to be a better judge of character.”

Art let out a faint laugh as he shook the hand extended by the taller blacksmith. “Nonsense, there is nothing to forgive.”

“Here,” the ginger man took the small tooth and handed it over to the white haired man, “make good use of it, or I would find you and give you a thorough beating.”

“Haha, don’t worry, Hjalmar.” Art graciously received it, “I will use it to make a weapon that will make you proud. Here accept this dagger as my gift. I am sure it will fetch you a good price, and compensate you somewhat for the price of this fang.”

Art wanted to give Blood Tear to Hjalmar, but Freya, who held the dagger, was reluctant to give it up. After all, this was not just a normal dagger, but a powerful and deadly weapon.