The tremor passed as quickly as it came.
Rollo stepped outside the forge and scanned the street. Nothing appeared disturbed. No one shouted. No buildings cracked. If the ground had moved, Greythorn either had not noticed or chose to ignore it.
Inside, Kendo ran his thumb lightly across the blade's edge.
It did not bite him.
It felt aware of where to cut.
"That tremor wasn't coincidence," Rollo said quietly.
"Probably not."
"And this sword wasn't coincidence either."
Kendo did not deny it.
He wrapped the blade in cloth and placed it on the workbench. "We test it properly."
"On what?"
"Something that fights back."
By mid-morning, word spread that a pack of ironback jackals had been sighted near the eastern ravine. F-tier in size. E-tier in hide density. Fast and relentless when cornered.
A small patrol formed quickly. Rollo joined without difficulty. Kendo came as support, carrying the wrapped sword.
Several hunters eyed him skeptically.
"Brought something new?" one asked.
"Yes."
"Try not to embarrass us."
Kendo ignored the comment.
The pack attacked sooner than expected.
Four jackals burst from the brush, their hides reflecting dull metallic streaks along their flanks. One leapt straight for the lead hunter.
Steel clashed against hardened fur.
The blade scraped.
Kendo stepped forward and handed the wrapped sword to Rollo without speaking.
Rollo unwrapped it in one smooth motion.
The nearest jackal lunged.
Rollo swung.
The sword cut cleanly through the beast's shoulder and chest in a single arc.
The animal collapsed before finishing its leap.
Silence rippled through the patrol.
Another jackal charged. Rollo pivoted and drove the blade forward.
It pierced through hide and bone as if neither existed.
The remaining two retreated.
No one pursued.
One of the hunters stared at the fallen bodies. "That wasn't reinforced steel."
"No," Rollo replied calmly. "It wasn't."
All eyes turned to Kendo.
He did not smile.
He did not boast.
He only said, "It's better."
The patrol returned to town in uneasy quiet.
By the time they reached the gates, the story had already begun to spread.
Not about failure this time.
About something else.
From the guild hall balcony, Garrick Vale watched the sword in Rollo's hand — and did not look pleased.