Chloe awoke painfully, her joints creaking in protest. Her eyelids were heavy, her skin cracked and dry. Though she was still alive, neither her nor her body were in a happy mood. She staggered to her feet, brushing away the sand that had covered her like a coat. Her mana had been greatly drained, and her physical strength had been overexerted. It was only when her hand made contact with her body that she realized something was wrong. She had been stripped down to her bare essentials, just her underwear. Next to her, a rough cloth that looked like a blanket from a primitive society held equally primitive clothes. There were only a Roughspun Tunic* and shorts tied with a rope.

Chloe grimaced as she wore the clothes given to her. They were rough, and irritated her skin that was used to the higher-quality fabric of the modern world. Though she wasn’t sure who had taken her clothes, she was confident that they had taken them to sell to a clothes merchant or rich family. Considering what she knew of desert society, everyone was poor and needed money desperately. The wealthy 1% held control of all the resources and shared them with the other people out of the kindness of their hearts. Of course, stereotypes that she knew might not apply here. However, at least the stereotype that desert people were primitives was not too wrong.

After putting on the clothes, Chloe immediately noticed the lack of mystical weapons that bend the laws of the universe; namely, Dyryndal. Unfortunately, it seemed that it had been taken as well, along with her clothes. Grimacing, Chloe attempted to sense the location of Dyryndal through their soul connection. She saw an image of Dyryndal’s location, a place that looked like a large tent. It reminded her of a bazaar, only less crowded. A dark-skinned man wearing robes and a turban sat on a cushion, inspecting Chloe’s clothes. The man nodded, and handed a bag of coins to a man wearing faded robes and a smaller turban.

“Here, fifty silver choka. It’s of the highest quality, you should feel lucky that you get this much.” The big turban man said.

“Fifty silver?! You see clothes of worse quality than these in white choka! How is this deal fair?!” The small turban man complained.

“Look, I’m the only one that can actually pay you this much! If you go anywhere else, they won’t even give you half of what I’ve offered! If you don’t want it, you can go home!”

“...”

The small turban man bit his lip and though for a bit. He the sighed, and took the bag and left Chloe’s clothes. She memorized the face of the big turban merchant, intending to take back her clothes after she dealt with the small turban robber. The small turban robber walked away, his face somber. He continued to walk the bazaar, until he found another merchant with a bigger turban than his, with this one selling weapons instead. The weapons merchant looked up and inspected the small turban robber. He shook his head and made a ‘shooing’ motion.

“I don’t need you to beg for anything. Everything here is too expensive for you.” The weapons merchant said, looking away.

“I’m here to sell.” The small turban robber.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“Then, what do you have? Is it an heirloom? Or did you steal it? If it’s stolen, I don’t want it.”

“It isn’t stolen, it’s owner was dead when I found it. It seems that the owner had a battle with another person, killed them, then died of their wounds.”

“I see. Then, take it out.”

“Here it is.” The small turban robber showed Dyryndal to the weapons merchant.

“Mm?” The weapons merchant took it, and knocked on the blade.

A metallic ringing sound came out, despite the material feeling like wood. The weapons merchant was fascinated, continuing to use different tools on the blade, trying to figure out the material. He confirmed that the sword was made of wood, but he was still unable to understand why such a sword had strength even greater than steel. Even more confusing was the color, how could wood possibly be black and white at the same time? Thinking, the weapons merchant put a hand on his chin, and stroked the edge. He pulled back his finger, and was shocked to find that his finger had been opened and was bleeding. Though the cut was not deep, it still bled. However, he did not even feel it when it was made, meaning that the sword was extremely sharp. The merchant was ecstatic, believing he had found a treasure like none other.

He was about to make an offer, but calmed himself and decided to do another test. He pulled out his best weapon, one that could be sold for twenty white choka, a price possible only for the extremely wealthy. In his left hand, he held Dyryndal in his left hand, and the other sword in his right. He raised his sword, and brought it down as hard as he could upon Dyryndal. With a ringing sound, his best sword snapped cleanly at the point of impact. This sound drew the attention of many others within earshot. When they saw the upper part of the sword edge flying into the air, their mouths fell open.

Though Chloe had no way of knowing, the weapons merchant was renowned for his goods. His best sword in particular was well worth twenty white choka. If even his best sword was snapped, then just what kind of monstrous sword was the one he was testing?!

The weapons merchant was unable to think for a moment, letting the broken part of the sword impale itself into the rug beneath him before reacting. He tossed aside his best sword, as a broken sword was of no use to anyone. He stared at the blade of Dyryndal as though he wanted to burn a hole in it with just his gaze. Even with his professional eyes, he could not find a single chip, scratch or dent in it. This sword was able to break his best without even a scratch! Just what kind of master made this?! Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the sword, and turned to the small turban robber, who was still in stunned silence.

“I’ll give you a twenty-five white choka!” The weapons merchant said loudly.

If it had been before testing, others would’ve scoffed at the price. However, after seeing it break his best sword without even a mark, this price might’ve even been under it’s value.

“Ah… um… uh...” The small turban robber repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, unable to for coherent words.

“Nonononono, that’s too little. I’ll give you fifty white choka!” The weapons merchant would not let this opportunity pass him by, even if it costed him everything he had.

“Fifty-?!”

“My best sword was broken by this – not that I’m upset about it – so I can’t offer you my best, so how about my second best?! Even though it hardly matches up to this one, it is still worth fifteen white choka! Whaddya say?! If it’s not enough, I can do more!”

“N-no, fifty is good!”

“Great, great! Thank you so much!”

“No, it’s no problem! I have no need for it, I only found it in passing, I didn’t expect it to be worth so much!”

The weapons merchant handed both his second best sword and a bag full of white choka coins. The small turban robber was still in shock as he was approached by other merchants, wondering if he had found anything else. Unfortunately, Chloe only had her clothes and Dyryndal with her, so he could not sell anything else. It took hours before he finally made it home, a ramshackle place that was falling apart. He set down the bag of white choka on his sleeping area and sat down. He put a hand on his head and mumbled to himself.

~Outskirts of the small turban robber’s village. 1:23:72. December 25, 2044.~

Chloe hovered in the air, high enough to look down on the entire village, but not high enough to have trouble breathing. Her mana had been fully recovered, and she had finally reached the small turban robber’s village. With a golden gaze, she looked upon the village, and marked her targets. She flew in, determined to take back what was hers.

*Skyrim Reference