"Was that really the right decision?"
After we had left the dwarves' workshop and walked for a while, Sophia asked me that question.
"Which decision are you talking about?"
"Both. The sword and the armor."
Her gaze fell on the Holy Sword Adamas, which now swung from my belt.
It was safely tucked away in a newly made scabbard. Since I was already treating some injured dwarves, I had them whip up the scabbard too. As expected of dwarven craftsmanship, it was ready in the time it took for them to measure me.
The scabbard was enchanted to preserve the condition of the blade even further. Other races' craftsmen wouldn't stand a chance.
By the way, Fissero said the scale mail armor would be completed today.
"I'll stake my beard and my skills on this armor, and make something to rival the original brilliance of that sword," Fissero had said. The way he spoke—it wasn't just pride, but a bit of stubbornness as well.
