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The Hans’ General Store, the only shop in the mountain village of Gurude, was small but crammed with all sorts of goods. The narrow aisles barely fit one person at a time, and even the ceiling was cluttered with dangling items. Anyone who stepped inside would instinctively frown at the stench of oil and a sharp sting that irritated the eyes.
Most bored travelers who wandered in left immediately, repulsed by the smell. A few idle strangers, however, braved the acrid air and eye-watering sting to browse the goods.
And soon, they would tilt their heads in puzzlement. While there were plenty of miscellaneous items befitting a general shop, many of them were impractical, such as a branch shaped like a child’s toy sword, a crudely carved wooden soldier, a faded jar, or a bell etched with strange animals.
Curious visitors picked them up, wondering if they might hold some archaeological value, but they quickly realized the truth.
“This… This is!”
Their fingertips could feel the wear of years. The items were so fragile that any amount of pressure would shatter them immediately. However...
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