Both Emperor Sullivan and the dwarf stared at Davey in stunned belief at his blunt statement. 0

“What… What do you mean, broken? The sword broke?!”0

“While overseeing Evangeline’s swordsmanship practice, the sword couldn’t endure her strength—it shattered,” Davey explained calmly, pulling a box from his Pocket Plane and opening it to reveal the shattered remnants of the blade.0

The dwarf looked at the pieces, his expression utterly blank. It had broken into a million shards, meaning there was no hope of reforging it. It wasn’t a simple break that could be welded back together; the blade had been obliterated.0

Though many swords were considered disposable tools, there were exceptions, such as the divine sword Caldeiras that had remained intact for thousands of years. And so, thinking of them as merely disposable tools was not entirely correct. The dwarf had believed that the sword he forged stood in the same league as such mythical blades.0

To an extent, he was right. The swords he crafted usually retained their strength, resisting the corrosion of blood and the dulling of their edges, enduring even the fierce strikes of Aura Blades. It was only natural, given that the materials he used were far beyond ordinary.0

“That’s impossible! Do you know what kind of sword that was? All I went through to make it?!” the dwarf screamed, grabbing Davey by the collar and shaking him violently.0

“It can’t be… It can’t be! Are you saying...0