"It's done."
Roland's whisper was exceptionally clear in the silent forge.
He opened his palm, carefully examining the newly forged Mithril Dagger.
It lay quietly in his palm, its entire body suffused with a reserved, silvery luster, as if it were solidified, liquid starlight.
On the blade, the fine, Star Dust-like veins of light were not static; they pulsed with extreme slowness deep within, like the breathing of a slumbering behemoth.
A pure and powerful Wind Elemental Energy was perfectly bound within the long, narrow piece of metal, forming a stable yet active core.
Roland's thumb gently brushed over the edge of the blade, applying no pressure.
Yet, in the instant of contact, after an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible resistance, the air beneath the pad of his thumb seemed to have been silently sliced open.
He could even "feel" the Wind Element spontaneously gathering and flowing at the Dagger's tip, forming an invisible, razor-sharp edge.
