Arlan returned to the Wimark Estate with his knight in time for the evening meal.
After dining with his sister's family, he decided to retire to his room and rest. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would probably be the same.
Just as he was about to go to bed, his gaze landed on the small knife placed on the bedside table. He walked towards it and picked it up.
At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary knife. It had a narrow blade with a single sharp edge—the kind favored by forest hunters, not herb collectors—but its handle was not made of pale wood but rather ivory. There were traces of a carving at the bottom, but perhaps due to the passage of time, the mark had long faded.
'This is something that a commoner should not have. Only nobles can afford this kind of knife.'
Though it was unadorned, any person with a keen eye could tell this knife ought to be a relic, if not a treasure.
