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09. There's Only so Many Slimes in a Forest...
“Relax,” she giggled. Her snow-white fingers closed around the worn leather wrapped handle as she pulled the knife free.

The blade was about eight inches in length and made from a dull silvery metal that didn’t reflect the light of the crystals illuminating the room. Its razor sharp edges were symmetrical, elegantly curving towards one another to form a lethal point.

“This is a ‘breacher’,” she said as she casually flipped it in her hand to catch the flat of the blade before offering me the hilt.

The grip felt as it looked against my fingers: Thoroughly used. The relatively small weapon was also heavier than I expected. “Why’s it so heavy?”

“It’s crafted from a dense metal known as anmian; a favorite among alchemists due to its durability and suitability for enchanting.”

The strange metal pulled my gaze as though they were oppositely charged magnets. Not a hint of texture stained its smooth surface and no matter how I shifted it, not a drop of light was caught in the flat silvery
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