"Okay… here's your seventy-five silver as chan—" Gerald returned with a pouch of coins, but the words died on his tongue.
His gaze snapped upward, narrowing on the four Nyxter blades embedded in the ceiling—and the fifth one sunk deep into his table.
Slowly, his eyes shifted to Leon, who was also observing the blades with an impassive stare.
"I don't want to know. Take your change, take your sword, and get the fuck out of my shop." Gerald's voice was dry as he tossed the bag of silver toward Leon.
*Catch*
"Can I get a sheath for the sword?" Leon asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.
…
Leon stood in front of the smithy looking at Gerald's irritated face behind the door.
"Don't come back… annoying human."
*THUD*
The door slammed shut behind him. Leon exhaled quietly and examined the Nyxter resting in a sleek black sheath, its leather fine and perfectly fitted.
"Store," Leon spoke as the Nyxter disappeared from his hand and appeared into the inventory.
