Chương 6: How Much Is a Weapon That Saved the World Worth?

The baguette rested beneath Aldric's arm, still warm in places. He tore off a piece and chewed it slowly. △ NEW OBJECTIVE △ Acquire Legal Currency Suggested Methods • Employment • Exchange • Sale of Property • Other The third option remained the most logical. In his world, a legendary weapon was more than a mere object. It carried the history of those who had forged it, the battles it had endured, and the blood of the enemies it had slain.

Some kings had emptied their treasuries to acquire a blade far less prestigious. Noble families had slaughtered one another over an enchanted dagger that could never lose its edge. As for his own sword, it had been forged from the heart of a fallen star north of Valdor, quenched in Lake Yrme, and blessed by three gods before the temples were destroyed. It had cleaved the Crown of the Void, opened the gates of Malachar Fortress, and pierced the Demon King's heart. Selling it should allow him to survive for years.

Aldric tucked the baguette beneath his arm, brushed the crumbs from his fingers, and set off. He still didn't know the districts of Paris, but Michel had told him that merchants often gathered along the city's main avenues. He decided to follow the shop windows. Some displayed clothes, shoes, or jewelry, while others showcased glowing devices whose purpose he still didn't understand. Prices were printed on small tags. Aldric tried to compare their value, but the numbers meant nothing to him.

A pair of shoes sometimes cost one hundred and fifty euros, a watch several thousand, while a simple cup of hot coffee seemed to cost only four or five euros. He stopped in front of a jewelry store. Tiny rings rested beneath glass domes, each accompanied by a price tag that sometimes exceeded ten thousand. Some held only a single gemstone. His own sword, meanwhile, bore seven Sunstones set into its hilt.

Each had once been gifted by a different temple and contained enough mana to sustain a protective barrier around an entire castle for several hours. Even if the people of this world failed to recognize their true properties, the gems and the metal alone should be enough to guarantee an immense value. Aldric stopped in front of the display window. Inside, a woman in a dark business suit was arranging pendants. A man stood guard at the entrance. His gaze swept over Aldric's armor, then his sword.

He immediately held out a hand in front of the door.

"You can't come in with that," he said.

"I would like to have a weapon appraised."

"You're in the wrong place."

"Yet you sell valuable objects."

"Jewelry. Not swords."

"Do you know of a merchant who would be willing to examine an ancient blade?" The man thought for a few seconds before pointing down the street to his right.

"There's an antique dealer farther down. At the end of the street, just past the café. You'll see a storefront painted green."

"Thank you." Aldric placed his fist against his chest, then walked away. The man remained outside the jewelry store, watching him until he disappeared into the crowd. The street he had been directed to was quieter. The buildings looked older, their facades weathered by time and streaked with years of rain. Several small shops occupied the ground floor. One displayed yellowed books, another paintings and statues.

Aldric stopped in front of a green storefront with a sign above it that read: Antiques, Historical Objects, Appraisals & Purchases. The display window held a collection of seemingly unrelated objects. A golden clock rested beside a wooden mask. Old coins were arranged inside a frame, while a decorative shortsword lay on a velvet stand. Farther back stood a miniature suit of armor beside a lamp and several engraved boxes. Aldric studied the small sword.

Its blade was shorter than his forearm, but its presence confirmed that the merchant was at least familiar with antique weapons. He pushed open the door. A bell chimed overhead. The shop was narrow, crowded with shelves overflowing with vases, books, statuettes, watches, and assorted metal objects. The air smelled of dust, wax, and old wood. Behind the counter, a man in his sixties was bent over a magnifying glass. His white hair was brushed back, and a pair of glasses rested on the tip of his nose.

He looked up, then froze when he saw Aldric.

"Good morning," he said.

"Greetings." The man's gaze dropped to the sword.

"Here for an appraisal?"

"Yes."

"I take it that's what you want appraised."

"Exactly." Aldric stepped up to the counter. The antique dealer examined his armor, the black stains coating the metal, and the torn fabric protruding beneath the plates.

"Are you filming something around here?" he asked.

"No."

"A convention, then?"

"I'm unfamiliar with that term." The merchant smiled faintly.

"You're certainly committed to the role." Aldric unfastened the scabbard.

"Set it here." Aldric laid the weapon on the counter. The wood groaned beneath its weight. The man instinctively took a step back in surprise before placing a hand on the scabbard.

"It's heavy." Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"The metal it was forged from is denser than steel."

"What kind of metal?"

"Astrium." The antique dealer looked up.

"Of course it is." He slid the sword toward himself and examined the scabbard. It was covered in black leather, reinforced with bands of silvery metal. Several nearly faded runes ran along its surface. The man took out a small flashlight, switched it on, and held the beam over the engravings.

"This is impressive craftsmanship," he admitted.

"Were these inscriptions carved by hand?"

"They were inscribed by the High Priest of Yrme."

"I see."

"May I draw it?"

"Yes, but don't touch the edge."

"Is it really that sharp?"

"It can cut through stone." The merchant wrapped a hand around the hilt and pulled. The blade resisted at first, then slowly slid free of the scabbard. A pale glow ran along the metal. The engraved runes lit up one after another before fading away. The antique dealer froze.

"Is there a battery hidden somewhere?"

"No."

"LEDs?"

"I don't know what LEDs are." The man examined the blade from several angles. His reflection warped across the silver surface. A scar crossed the metal near the tip, left by the Demon King's final spell. Despite the crack, the edge remained flawless.

"It's a beautiful piece," he murmured.

"It was forged by Ulmor, the last Master of the Celestial Forges."

"Do you have a certificate of authenticity?"

"A certificate of authenticity?"

"A document proving its origin, the maker, and the date it was crafted."

"Ulmor engraved his seal beneath the hilt." Aldric pointed to a small mark depicting an anvil surrounded by stars. The antique dealer examined it through his magnifying glass.

"I've never seen it before."

"His forge stood beneath Mount Valdor."

"Never heard of that either."

"It was destroyed during the war." The merchant set the magnifying glass back on the counter.

"Do you have invoices, photographs, anything that documents its creation?"

"I was there."

"That's not really proof." Aldric frowned. In his world, the word of a royal knight was enough to guarantee an item's origin. Here, his insignia meant nothing, his kingdom existed on no map, and the blacksmith's name appeared in no records. The antique dealer laid the sword on a cloth and examined the gemstones set into the hilt. He tapped one gently with the tip of a metal tool. The gem responded with a faint golden glow.

"Are they glass?"

"They're Sunstones."

"They look like synthetic crystals."

"They still contain mana."

"Mana," the man repeated. Aldric took a slow breath. He could feel the conversation drifting away from the appraisal.

"Can you determine its value?"

"I can try." The antique dealer took out a device, pressed part of the blade against a small sensor, and studied the screen. Several numbers appeared. He repeated the process on the hilt, then on the pommel.

"The metal isn't easy to identify."

"Because it doesn't come from your world."

"I'd say it's some kind of modern alloy."

"It's over two thousand years old."

"In its current form?"

"It has been reforged three times."

"Then it isn't really two thousand years old anymore." Aldric remained silent. The merchant had a strange way of evaluating objects. He seemed to place far more importance on documented provenance than on an item's true power or history.

"Is this a decorative piece, or a weapon used in performances?"

"It's a weapon of war."

"Have you actually used it?"

"Many times." The man's gaze settled on the dark stains covering Aldric's armor.

"Used it for what?"

"I've killed demons, dragons, giants, and several creatures whose names don't exist in your language."

"I see."

"It also slew the Demon King yesterday."

"Yesterday," the man repeated.

"Yes." « And today you want to sell it."

"I need euros." The antique dealer let out a sigh. He slid the blade back into its scabbard and looked it over one last time.

"All right. If we put the story, the character, and everything else aside, it's a very high-quality replica. It's heavy, well made, and the lighting effects are impressive."

"It isn't a replica."

"All right."

"It's the original weapon."

"Of course it is."

"How much is it worth?" The man rubbed his chin.

"To a fantasy collector? Maybe four hundred euros."

"I don't understand."

"Four hundred. Maybe five hundred if you find someone who really likes this kind of piece." Aldric looked down at the sword.

"Five hundred euros."

"Yes."

"The ring in the previous shop was worth over ten thousand."

"That's not comparable."

"This weapon contains seven Sunstones, an astrium core, and the blessings of three gods."

"I'm telling you what I could actually sell it for."

"It pierced the Demon King's heart."

"Stories like that can help, but only if the buyer believes them." Aldric placed both hands on the counter. The wood creaked softly beneath his fingers.

"This blade saved twelve kingdoms."

"Sir, please calm down."

"It shattered the Crown of Nothingness."

"I understand."

"It held the Gate of Caldris while eight thousand civilians evacuated the city."

"All right."

"Three heroes wielded it before me, and every one of them died to keep the Gates of Hell from opening."

"I'm not questioning your story. I'm only giving you an appraisal." Aldric let go of the counter and looked down at his sword again. Five hundred euros. Barely enough to buy a few dozen meals or a handful of nights at an inn, if the prices he had seen the day before were accurate. The metal alone had to be worth more than that. A single gemstone could have powered the defenses of an entire capital.

"I might be able to go as high as six hundred," the antique dealer said.

"But I'd have to keep it on consignment."

"You want me to leave the weapon with you?"

"If you want me to sell it, yes."

"And you'll give me six hundred euros."

"If it sells for that much." Aldric picked up the scabbard.

"No."

"Think it over."

"I already have." He fastened the weapon back onto his belt. Its familiar weight settled against his hip.

"Never." The antique dealer folded his arms.

"Then why did you come here?"

"Because I thought I was speaking to a merchant who could recognize the value of a weapon."

"I recognize the craftsmanship. I can't make up a price just because you tell me it killed a demon." Aldric turned toward the door, then stopped.

"If your world had been on the brink of destruction yesterday, how much would the weapon that saved it have been worth?" The antique dealer said nothing. Aldric stepped outside. The bell chimed behind him. A gray light washed over the street as the first raindrops began to fall. They struck his armor, slid across the plates, and mingled with the black stains. He walked without any particular destination. Anger weighed on his shoulders, but it wasn't directed at the merchant.

The man couldn't recognize what he had never seen. In this kingdom, dragons and demons were probably nothing more than creatures from fairy tales. A legendary sword was simply an expensive decoration. △ QUEST PROGRESS △ Acquire Legal Currency Attempted Method Sale of Property Result FAILED Current Funds: 0 EUR Aldric dismissed the notification with a sharp gesture. He would not sell his sword.

Even if it was worth nothing here, it remained the last thing connecting his present life to those who had died in his world. Ulmor had forged the blade. Elwen had blessed it. Braum had repaired its guard after the Battle of Sorna. Lyria had carved a tiny mark beneath the pommel while Aldric slept, convinced he would never discover it. He brushed his thumb over the nearly invisible engraving. An arrow flanked by two wings. Aldric continued walking as the rain grew heavier.

Pedestrians opened round objects above their heads, creating small shelters of fabric. He didn't slow down. The water gradually washed away the dust coating his armor, but the Demon King's blood still clung stubbornly to the metal. Behind the green storefront, the antique dealer watched Aldric leave. He waited until the armored figure reached the end of the street before picking up the miniature sword displayed in the window. His fingers trembled slightly. He set it back down, then turned toward the counter.

The man had left a mark in the wood. Five deep fingerprints had been pressed into the surface, as though the counter had been made of clay instead of oak. The antique dealer ran a hand over them. No tool could have left impressions like that without splintering the wood or leaving cracks around them. He looked toward the door.

"That's impossible," he whispered. His gaze drifted to the phone beside the register. He hesitated, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. The man in armor had spoken of demons, kingdoms, and a war. He was carrying a sharpened sword through streets full of civilians. Even if he wasn't a threat, notifying the authorities was probably the most sensible course of action. The antique dealer picked up the phone and dialed.

"Police emergency. What is your emergency?" He looked one last time at the fingerprints pressed into the counter.

"Hello," he said.

"An armed man has just left my shop."