The footsteps were slow and steady.
Everyone turned toward the back door as it opened fully.
A man stepped out.
He looked old — not weak, but weathered.
Long gray hair tied back, a short beard, sharp eyes that seemed to see through everyone instantly.
His clothes were simple, but the gloves on his hands were the kind a master craftsman wore.
He looked at the group…
Then at the rusted sword in Rhys's hand.
And stopped walking.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then:
"…You found my father's blade."
Rhys blinked. "Your father?"
The old man nodded and walked closer.
He stood in front of Rhys and examined the sword without touching it.
"That sword," he said slowly, "belonged to the previous Pearlforger. My father. He died before he could restore it."
Aria whispered to Sophia, "So it IS special?"
Sophia nodded. "Very."
The old man continued, voice steady.
