"The blade and the handle were forged as one. The mark was engraved when the metal was still cooling. Whoever forged this put both the dwarven mark and the Jing Clan character onto it. They were made together."
Little Shrubby looked genuinely confused. "Then it must be someone from the Jing Clan who learned dwarven forging?"
Lin Mu nodded. "That is the most likely possibility."
And that was when the faintest ripple traveled across his ring.
The Sheath trembled gently.
Not enough for the beasts to notice.
But Lin Mu felt it clearly. It was calling to him. Asking him to try something.
Lin Mu took a slow breath.
The Sheath had nurtured his very first sword ever since it come to him. It was nurturing that blade. It had memories it could look into. It might know things even Lin Mu did not.
He brought the plain sword close to the Sheath.
The Sheath trembled again. Stronger.
Lin Mu understood.
"You want me to place it inside?"
A pulse of affirmation spread through his palm.
