"That was..."
Hai Na remembered that dagger.
To ease the headache caused by that muddled cognition, she told them everything she could.
After hearing her story, Iver raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
Like a fox that had caught a chicken, he revealed a smug, ambiguous, delighted smile.
Sherlock, sitting nearby, immediately noticed the flaw in it as well.
"Heh..."
Sherlock snorted, interlocking his fingers and leaning back. "You really are slow, Hai Na."
"...What?"
"You said the beautiful dagger had Elven Language engraved on it."
Sherlock asked in return, "Was it a gift from your father?"
"Yes. He told me to carry it. It could protect me."
Hai Na answered.
As soon as she said that, she suddenly realized something. "You mean..."
Sherlock cut her off directly. "Your father was a dwarf smith, wasn't he?
"He was a hereditary transcendent blacksmith, capable of forging transcendent equipment. Even if he wanted you to have something for self-defense on your way to school, why would he give you an elven dagger? Or rather, if he wanted you to carry a weapon, why would he give you only an elven dagger?"
Blacksmiths took pride in the tools they forged themselves, and dwarves were especially confident in their smithing skills.
At the same time, dwarves were generally hostile toward elves. Magnetic Hammer was a typical dwarf blacksmith.
So under these circumstances, a dwarf blacksmith protecting his daughter would give her none of the equipment he had forged himself, and only give her an elven dagger?
"Besides, I lost that dagger later. But I forgot where I lost it. It was as if it had suddenly vanished one day."
Hai Na recalled what happened afterward and immediately continued. "I was worried for quite a while back then. I was afraid