The White Hawk Duke crouched down, scooped a handful of stone powder from a crevice in the rocky ground, and rubbed it between his fingers. He couldn't help frowning.
Just then, Lady Kaydelin walked over and asked,
"Is something wrong? That magic surge just now felt unusual."
The Duke held up the stone powder for the Great Mage to see and asked,
"What does it make you think of?"
"This is a pulverizing spell. I can't think of any spell that could produce an effect like this!" Lady Kaydelin said.
"It does remind me of a Forbidden Technique." The Duke rose and walked over to his daughter, who had just caught her breath. A trace of gloom clouded his face.
At that moment, George was pleading shamelessly with his sister:
"Andrea, I'm begging you. Go talk to that guy for me.
Forget the War Hammer. You could ask him to make me a sword like yours instead.
With your beauty, just bat your eyelashes and act a little sweet, and I guarantee you'll have him wrapped around your finger.
I'll get my weapon without spending a single coin.
I'm telling you, I've seen right through him. That guy's a lecher. He's lusting after you..."
Just then, Fatty noticed a shadow looming over him. He turned around, saw his father standing behind him with a stony expression, and quickly fell silent and sidled away.
The Duke shooed away his son, who had been spouting nonsense in front of everyone, then said to his daughter,
"Andrea, let me see your hand!"
Andrea obediently held out her left hand, keeping hold of the Sword Hilt with her right.
The Duke examined it from every angle but found nothing. He then had Andrea switch hands. Pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger, he