Even before stepping into the Blacksmith Shop, he had already braced himself for it.
But when Xia Nan actually heard the Chainmail Shirt he had once spent 50 Gold Coins on being sentenced to "death," his heart still ached uncontrollably.
As if noticing his gaze lingering on the chainmail, the burly man in front of him, "Rock Hammer" Barn, showed a comforting smile.
"A true blade never fears breaking. It only fears never having drunk its fill of blood."
"No need to regret it."
He reached out a thick arm as broad as an ordinary person's thigh and gave Xia Nan's shoulder a firm pat.
"The fact that you can still stand here safe and sound already proves its worth."
It was not a collectible meant to sit behind a counter, nor had it ever needed any ornate decoration.
The meaning of armor's existence was to keep away the injuries that should have been borne by flesh.
Every spark beneath the Forging Hammer, every gleam reflected by the chain links, existed for that purpose.
It had endured damage far beyond its own defensive capacity. Its metal structure had collapsed, but it had also turned what would have been an almost fatal heavy wound in a fierce battle into an ordinary minor injury that did not affect his ability to move.
Whether it was 50 Gold Coins or 500 Gold Coins, the Chainmail Shirt had fulfilled its mission.
"If you're willing, you can sell it back to me."
Barn lifted the chainmail with one hand and shook it a few times in the air.
The rings scraped and knocked against each other, giving off the faint clink unique to metal.
"15 Gold Coins. The parts still in decent condition can become part of other equipment and make their last contribution."
It