Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Dexter the Dwarf
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[Two hundred gold coins to customer number 770!!]
Clap clap clap!
Applause rang out, and Kallias unconsciously clenched his fist.
‘They wouldn’t know.’
To ordinary people, a dwarf slave was just a stubborn little person who wouldn’t listen.
But to Kallias, it was more valuable than any treasure.
"Please sign here."
"Right."
He suppressed his excitement and signed. Along with the paperwork, the dwarf slave in iron chains appeared.
"These are handcuffs made from artifacts, so no need to worry about escape."
"I see."
Though they boasted it as an artifact, it was only slightly sturdier than regular cuffs.
‘His condition is worse than expected.’
Not only did he have scratches here and there, but his nutrition was poor too.
Probably because he wouldn’t obey.
They didn’t know how to handle dwarves.
"Your name… Dexter. Yes, Dexter."
At that, the dwarf’s dull, fish-like eyes turned toward him.
Dexter.
There was no way he wouldn’t know that name.
He was originally a slave who wandered from place to place.
Due to his tumultuous fate, he couldn’t fully utilize his talents and lived his life as a slave, only realizing his ambitions in his later years.
He possessed quite useful traits and was, in essence, like a golden goblin for the player.
An unparalleled stroke of luck upon encounter.
But not someone you’d meet easily.
The wandering slave blacksmith Dexter.
Meeting him was fortune indeed.
"Dexter. Don’t you want to make a hammer?"
Flinch.
Dexter’s body trembled faintly.
"I can provide you with the workshop and ores you need. It’s my way of showing respect and courtesy to the hammer god, Toondera."
Eyes shaking intensely.
A face full of shock.
Vigor returned to Dexter’s eyes.
"In return, just help me once when I need it."
Just as pilgrims of the Valterus faith wandered in search of their own swords.
Dwarves yearned to craft a hammer to offer to the god.
Dexter.
No one knew how he ended up here, but even as a slave, he wouldn’t deny the instinct carved into his bones.
Dexter furrowed his brow.
It wasn’t refusal. He was probably judging the truth of the words.
First, bestow a favor.
Show respect.
Build trust that way.
That was how to win over a dwarf.
"I’ll hear your decision later. The next auction is starting."
With a glance at Brans, the quick-witted man led Dexter away.
They had other procedures to follow. Thanks to that, Kallias comfortably participated in a few more auctions.
[A cloak made by the great saint alchemist Eldora before she came of age. The Twilight Cloak!]
Twilight Cloak.
‘If I recall, it was an artifact modeled after a divine relic.’
The Twilight Cloak blocked heat and cold just by wearing it.
It also resisted tearing from most attacks and cushioned falls, making it essential for traveling pilgrims.
A limited edition of only thirty made by the Empire’s famous saint alchemist, Eldora!
[Starting bid at five hundred gold coins!]
Absurdly expensive for a cloak. Five hundred coins could build several buildings. Yet the Twilight Cloak’s price soared sky-high.
[Oh! Customer 466 bids six hundred! Seven hundred! Eight hundred again! Wow! Customer 466 bids one thousand!]
The price doubled in moments.
"Damn expensive."
After buying the holy water ingredients and Dexter, he had about two thousand four hundred gold left.
Kallias hesitated briefly before raising his hand.
[One thousand two hundred! Customer 770 bids one thousand two hundred!]
One thousand two hundred gold.
At that point, as if scripted, no one else raised a hand.
No, they couldn’t.
Time passed.
Clap clap clap!
[Twilight Cloak to customer 770!!]
It fell with a single bid.
‘…’
The Twilight Cloak was certainly a fine artifact, but one thousand two hundred gold? He tilted his head.
Felt like he’d been ripped off, a sour feeling. But what could he do.
‘Not a bad thing to have.’
Besides, he had the dwarf slave.
Dexter.
If he played his cards right, he could upgrade all the artifacts bought here by a grade.
‘A necessary expense.’
Gold hurt, but the golden light from his three-color eyes would make up for it.
"Please sign here."
After signing the staff member’s paperwork for the Twilight Cloak, Kallias immediately draped it on.
"Light."
No weight at all.
The underground auction house was stuffy and hot with the crowd, but the discomfort vanished the moment he wore it. The thousand two hundred gold stung a bit less.
"Good."
It enveloped his whole body without discomfort or weight.
Extremely satisfying.
Flinch. Suddenly, killing intent emanated from below in the auction hall.
Glancing down, among the first-floor seats, one man with strikingly white hair stood out.
‘Water-blue hair?’
Even with the black half-mask, his eyes clearly fixed on Kallias.
Looking closely, it was the one who’d bid on the Twilight Cloak from the start.
Probably ran out of gold.
‘To emit killing intent over that.’
He must have wanted it badly.
Kallias looked down at him with a victorious smile instead.
The killing intent thickened.
Hoping to intimidate, perhaps. No chance. This was Trista. No reason to fear.
The emitted intent suggested skill, but what could he do?
If it bothered him that much, save up and come back.
Of course, the Twilight Cloak was his now.
Irreplaceable.
Even with money, he couldn’t buy another.
Heh. For some reason, a smile lingered on his lips.
"Now, next…"
The next few items were useless.
Some famous pottery from a fallen kingdom or statues.
Then, finally, the auction’s last item.
The one he’d decided to acquire the moment he saw the list.
[In the East, sarira. In the West, holy relic. Here, the holy stone—a congealed mass of a saint’s divine power!!]
‘Holy stone.’
Where a saint who had reached the pinnacle perished and was cremated, a holy stone formed.
A crystallization of divine power.
From a saint, no less—pure first-grade or higher energy.
Holy stones were normally managed by the church, but occasionally smuggled ones appeared at auction.
‘Small size.’
Candy-sized.
But the divine aura and quality emanating from it were extraordinary.
‘Training with that would greatly enhance my divine power quality.’
In emergencies, he could draw divine power from it, or use it to strengthen the souls in his Carcass Sword.
It also aided artifact repair or enhancement—versatile.
‘The small size is a flaw… but still usable.’
[Starting at one thousand gold coins.]
One thousand from the start.
As expected of a holy stone.
No further details meant dubious origins.
Naturally, no one here cared. A holy stone.
Its sacred presence in an underground auction couldn’t be legitimate.
As the holy stone appeared and sacred energy spread, eyes changed.
Greed gleaming.
‘To bid or not.’
If he could win it, great.
It had uses everywhere.
Could massively boost Arsando’s energy, serve as an aid for Manhwabongyuk training.
Useful for holy water production and artifact enhancement too.
But the problem was.
[There it is! Two thousand gold!!]
Too expensive.
Not enough money.
Even Cedric’s name wouldn’t help.
‘That woman’s loaded.’
The water-blue haired woman who’d glared earlier was now competing with someone else.
Price climbing nonstop, nearing three thousand.
‘Gave up the cloak for that, huh.’
Regrettable, but unavoidable.
Not urgent; another chance would come.
The holy stone went for three thousand six hundred.
‘She lost again.’
The water-blue haired woman had been outbid once more.
The winner was a corpulent noble from the second-floor VIP seats, like him.
She glared at the second floor, then stormed out in anger.
‘Tough luck.’
Not his concern.
He then bought the final item: a six-hundred-gold elongated double bag. An artifact type with more internal space than it appeared, holding plenty.
"Done?"
"Yes! All packed."
The poisons and holy water materials he’d pre-ordered.
Brans held them in bundles, Dexter chained beside him.
Toss.
He threw the new double bag to Brans.
"Whoa!"
"Put it in there. It’ll all fit."
"Huh? No way, this can’t hold… Huh, it does."
"Brans."
"Yes!"
"Come on."
The exit was already crowded with departing people.
Tsk.
A tongue click, and his dedicated staff approached.
"We’ll escort you via another exit."
"Another exit?"
"Exclusive to VVIP members."
"Lead the way."
The nodding staff parted the second-floor curtained wall, revealing an exit.
A hidden passage for second-floor VIPs only.
"This way."
"Right."
Leading Brans and Dexter, he exited the black market.
* * *
"Captain. We spot-checked everyone leaving the Trista underground auction…"
"No sign?"
"Yes, no Kallias."
"Hmm."
Raibun removed his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief.
‘If Sir Cedric had helped a bit, this would’ve been easy.’
As Trista’s second-in-command, his influence could’ve sealed it.
Blockade Trista and inspect—simple.
But Cedric refused with a pleased look.
Left a nagging unease.
"What now?"
Deluin asked glumly.
Raibun paused in silence.
‘He has no ties here.’
If he entered the auction, he had to exit this way.
Appearance changeable, but his unique divine power and eyes couldn’t lie.
Especially House Jerban’s ashen eyes—impossible to hide.
‘But why isn’t he here.’
Every likely spot searched.
This was the last.
"No choice. Intensify inspections. Request Trista guard help. Bolster checkpoints and manpower."
"Yes!"
And.
"Didn’t see her?"
"Yes, she was at the auction. Looked furious."
"I see…"
Pondering, Raibun ordered Deluin.
"Inquisitor Deluin. If possible, discreetly track Pilgrim Esther’s location at all times. We can’t let her find the heretic first."
"Understood!"
Watching Deluin dash off, Raibun tilted his head curiously.
"But why was she angry?"
He couldn’t know.
* * *
Step step.
Kallias walked a glass-lined corridor, nobles from the second-floor VIP seats passing on either side.
Graceful, leisurely strides befitting nobility.
‘Right side got the monster, left the holy stone.’
Curious about their identities, but he ignored it.
Mountains of tasks awaited.
Hurry back, set up holy water production, experiment with recipes.
‘Holy water needs divine power infusion—few tough days ahead.’
Even casual holy water required divine power.
His was fourth-grade, but better to infuse while making.
Insurance was best in abundance.
"The cloak suits you well. Congratulations."
A voice snapped him from thought.
"Ah, yes. You got the holy stone too, sir. Congratulations."
The pot-bellied man who won the holy stone. Impressive mustache under the half-mask—noble vibe.
"Haha, rare chance, so I splurged. But… do you wield a sword, sir?"
"…Yes. How so?"
"Sharp eyes caught your right hand. Calluses unique to swordsmen. And donning the Twilight Cloak immediately suggested wandering knight, but surely not."
Wandering knights sought lords, lacking wealth or status for cloaks and VIP seats.
"…"
"My apologies. Bad habit."
Stroking his mustache, he continued.
"But thinking back, I recall those eyes from long ago. Ash-like irises, jet-black hair. Perhaps of House Jerban?"
"…It’s been ages since I left the house."
"Oh, forgive me… No ill intent."
Noble rich enough for easy holy stone win.
Knew Jerban traits—high-ranking.
Kallias activated his three-color eyes.
Golden hue around him.
"Then what is it?"
Step.
The noble halted.
Kallias stopped too.
"Want the holy stone?"
"What do you mean?"
"I can give it."
The noble drew a jewel box from his breast, opening it to Kallias.
Sacred energy purified the air instantly.
The saint’s holy stone.
Just auctioned.
"There’s a condition."
"I want House Jerban’s power."
Kallias’s eyes gleamed sharply.