⚔️Serberia

Kalentia had visited similar towns in her childhood, albeit briefly. As now, she only passed through them during her travels with her mother to Serberia. Despite this, the local hustle and bustle still seemed both unusual and, to some extent, captivating to her. It seemed like only a day's journey to Baldur, but the change in atmosphere was as if she had traveled to the other side of the world. Fortunately, the group had time to explore and get acquainted with Tamfana, even if only with one of its districts, and there was no need to immediately go to the local ruler. Therefore, curious about the weapons produced here, the girl decided to visit the Fererender's forge. Perhaps she even had enough money for a souvenir.

The Fererender's shop wasn't very tidy, but the weapons on display were of high quality, and it was clear that the local craftsman put both his soul and passion into his work. In the center of the room, two women, unfamiliar to Kalentia, were talking.

— Hmm, — said the one who, judging by all appearances, was the saleswoman or, at least, performed these functions, carefully examining the eastern sword, known to the students of Gungnir thanks to their friendship with Ryohei as a "katana." — No. We've never worked with anything like this.
— Oh, that's a pity.
— Well, you can only blame yourselves for that, — the shop assistant replied bluntly, — no one in our country uses such weapons. However, this does not mean that we will not take on your order. — She raised her hands to her face and folded them in the shape of a megaphone. — Grandpa! Grandpa! Come here!
Responding to his granddaughter's call, a few minutes later, the local blacksmith appeared before the women. Drops of sweat ran down his heaving, bare chest, and his arms were bulging with tight muscles, which served as proof that he had just stepped away from the anvil. White hair, gathered in a ponytail, flowed down his back, and thick eyebrows of the same color were visible above his large, expressive eyes. He was well over two meters tall and created a very intense aura around himself.
— Hmm... — The blacksmith examined the weapon with an assessing look. — What is the name of this sword?
— Meikai.
— Good! I will make this sword better than it was before, or I am not Sigismund Fererender!
Minutes later, the foreign woman leaves the shop, and the blacksmith returns to work.