Chapter 229
Chapter 229
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 229
>Chapter Title: The Great Sage Detached from Material Desires
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Chapter 1 of the Black & White Grand Auction.
The final day of the auction, known among nobles as the "Relic Auction," was packed with crowds unlike the previous three weeks.
This was the day when the real treasures were unveiled, which explained why prominent figures rarely seen in public had shown up.
And what a dazzling lineup it was.
Count Karutz and his wife, renowned in high society.
A certain baron who ran a trading company, a wealthy magnate famous for collecting relics, and even a celebrated spiritist drawn by the "artifacts of the Grand Elemental Era."
VIP rooms were occupied by famous personalities from politics, economics, and culture—all obsessed with relics.
"Hmm, I was a bit wary since it's an auction in the Black-White Slums, but the turnout isn't bad at all."
"Indeed. Whoever the organizer is, they've got good taste."
The VIPs, wearing masks prepared for anonymity, seemed pleased with their private suites. They savored the expensive wine provided by the hosts while awaiting the start of the auction.
It might not match an official auction house in every way, but the treatment was far from disappointing.
"This setup makes me look forward to the second Grand Auction. They've promised to invest in better facilities."
Some were already anticipating the next event, impressed by the organizers' attention to detail.
"I'd love to meet whoever's behind this. They couldn't have had unlimited funds, yet they've pulled off such high quality."
Others showed keen interest in the masterminds.
Of course, not everyone was satisfied.
There were always those steeped in luxury who found fault with everything.
Even accounting for them, the overall opinion among the nobles—no, all participants—was positive.
Except for one person... no, two.
"This way, please. Is there anything else you need?"
"...None. Get lost."
"...Understood."
Basilin dismissed the Cartel thug awkwardly dressed in a tuxedo and sank back into the suite's sofa.
Through the specially treated glass—one-way for privacy—he could see the auction hall bustling with preparations.
Suppressing his rising irritation, Basilin's gaze shifted to his companion.
"Lady Saurika, do you sense anything...?"
"Hmm."
Saurika, captain of Azure Ice and known as the Mage of Extreme Cold, twisted his thin lips beneath his half-mask into a sneer.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing special."
"...I see."
"Are you sure these vermin are the ones who took out Azure Ice mages?"
"That's... certain."
Saurika's serpentine eyes flicked toward Basilin with clear displeasure, though he refrained from scolding him outright.
The current situation grated on him more than anything.
'...Hormei, was it?'
It had been a month since Basilin reported losing contact with the man.
The fate of Black-White Slums trash wasn't important.
What mattered was the whereabouts of the two Azure Ice members assigned to him.
'Newrus and Krolka. They're no pushovers.'
Sure, by Azure Ice standards, they were slightly below average, but they were still Azure Ice.
As long as they bore that name, they held their own anywhere.
Yet.
'Missing in this filthy Black-White Slums dump?'
Even the location-tracking artifacts standard for Azure Ice mages failed to detect them.
He'd checked the Troubleshooters dispatched as backup—same result.
And it didn't end there.
To investigate, Saurika had sent a considerable number of Troubleshooters to the Second Black-White Zone.
The outcome?
'Zero survivors.'
Incomprehensible.
They were low-numbered and no-numbers—disposable trash—but not just one or two.
That was why Saurika had personally come to this squalid place.
To uncover the truth himself.
"Tch."
Lost in those thoughts, Saurika lit a cigar.
[ Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting. ]
The auctioneer's voice echoed into the suite via the voice-projection artifact.
The auction had begun.
Crack, crack.
Saurika cracked his knuckles irritably, his dull eyes taking in the scene.
'Just... who the hell are they?'
No, who they were didn't matter.
Only one thing did.
Troubleshooter lives were irrelevant; these were the ones who touched Azure Ice.
No, more than that—it was something else fueling Saurika's rage.
'They dared to humiliate me?'
Basilin's eyes had grown subtly insolent since that day.
Not even Goldrin's merchant lord, yet that bastard's skeptical glances made Saurika itch to gouge them out.
So, who they were didn't matter.
Auction organizers or Black-White Slums bigshots.
'...They'll learn the hard way who they messed with.'
As Saurika stewed in fury.
[Yes! ...Gold! ...Gold! If no higher bids in the next three calls, sold!]
The hall heated up with tangled desires.
Finally, the last auction item shattered the record for the inaugural Black & White Grand Auction and sold.
"...!"
Basilin bolted upright, eyes wide in spasm.
"L-Lady Saurika..."
"...?"
Saurika, calming his rage, frowned at Basilin's voice and looked at him.
"What?"
"Look... look ahead."
"...?"
Saurika twitched one eye and turned forward.
Wildfire rage ignited in his eyes right then.
"You... fucking bastards..."
On the emptied stage after the auctioneer stepped down, a masked figure in a black robe wheeled out a massive steel cage.
Participants tilted their heads at the unannounced spectacle, but Saurika's bloodshot eyes bored into the cage.
Inside the bars.
One battered man.
Chained in mana restraints, head bowed. His glimpsed face through disheveled hair was familiar to Saurika.
"Krol...ka."
One of the two assigned to Hormei.
The man in the cage was an Azure Ice mage.
* * *
Rage surged from his gut to his skull.
Crunch!
His grip pulverized the wooden sofa armrest.
Splinters dug into his flesh, blood flowing, but Saurika's bloodshot stare ignored the pain.
"These... fuckers... want to die..."
"L-Lady Saurika! Calm down! Please...!"
Basilin frantically restrained the losing-it Saurika.
Who seemed ready to burst from the suite onto the stage, but twisted his creaking neck to glare at Basilin.
"Calm... down? You tell me to calm down seeing that? An Azure Ice mage turned into a caged monkey for gawking crowds... calm down?"
Overwhelmed by the terrifying killing intent, Basilin's eyelids trembled. But with superhuman willpower, he pressed on.
"Y-Yes! That's why you must calm down! There are plenty of eyes here. If Lady Saurika acts now, it'll be truly irreversible."
"Witnesses? Just kill them all."
"No! You can't! Even for you, slaughtering nobles won't go unpunished. We can act after gauging their intentions."
"You... fucking..."
Saurika shuddered with boiling fury.
He wanted to charge out, rip the masked figure apart, slaughter everyone here.
But.
"For now... hah, for now..."
Basilin's words rang true.
Saurika barely suppressed his rage.
But the killing intent pouring from his eyes didn't fade a bit.
Meanwhile, having somewhat calmed Saurika, Basilin wiped sweat from his brow and eyed the stage.
'Hah...'
This was utterly unforeseen.
No, he'd come unprepared for anything, but this was beyond shock—pure provocation.
'Putting a Decullan mage on the auction stage?'
Not selling as a slave, surely.
Slavery was illegal in the Empire.
'What... the hell are they playing at?'
If it was to provoke them, it worked.
He could endure, but Saurika was erupting.
Just for that? Risking this madness?
'Ignorant of his Decullan ties? Or... knowing full well?'
Basilin couldn't fathom the motive.
If unaware... no, even then it was insane. If aware, beyond insane.
Snicker.
"...?"
Basilin frowned, feeling the masked man's gaze meet his.
But only briefly.
The masked figure swept the murmuring crowd with elegant yet comically exaggerated poise, bowing deeply.
His mouth opened soon after.
[Dear ladies and gentlemen, I sincerely apologize for the sudden event causing any confusion.]
With a voice masking gender and age, the figure politely apologized, waiting for full attention before continuing.
[I've come to introduce a rather special item before wrapping up the auction. Ah! No misunderstandings—this isn't about selling slaves. Our auction house is a model of Imperial law compliance.]
[Pfft.]
[What... haha.]
Laughter erupted from the seats.
A tax-dodging Black-White Slums black market auction claiming lawfulness? Hilarious.
Even frowning nobles smirked at the absurdity.
Basilin gawked at the stage.
'What... is this about?'
The masked figure's intent eluded him.
Basilin watched Saurika warily while focusing on the stage.
It didn't take long to understand.
[The man up here is an elite fighter from a household whose name alone rings bells.]
"...!"
[Deeply loyal to his family, but as you see... yes, we built a cordial rapport through talk. Anyway, not important. The final item is simple.]
The masked figure grinned.
[Q&A. One question, one answer. Don't you wonder? Which renowned house he belongs to. What sorry excuse for a house extends tentacles into the Black-White Slums. Acts like illiterate bandits eyeing and stealing nobles' consigned goods. Or even if not... yes, house secrets, forbidden arts, all sorts of curiosities about great magical families.]
Hearing that.
Basilin's eyelids quivered.
'This... madman...'
Insane.
Knowing it's a renowned house meant knowing Decullan.
Dare do this knowing it's Decullan?
Silent Saurika exploded from his seat right then.
"I can't... take anymore."
Killing intent radiating, fists clenched. Even Basilin couldn't stop him now.
A blade's rasp echoed then.
Shing—
"Sit down, Decullan mage."
"...!"
Saurika froze in shock at the sudden voice.
'...When?'
No warning, yet he'd allowed approach. And not just that.
A sword tip dug an inch into his throat.
As Saurika gulped thickly in chills, the voice behind him whispered in his ear.
"It's a show prepared for you. Watch till the end. Proper guest etiquette, no?"
"..."
As Saurika dared not speak.
The voice-projection artifact boomed.
[1,000 gold per question. Higher bids get priority—you know that. Oh, and...]
Beyond the glass, the masked figure's eyes locked on Basilin and Saurika.
[We can block questions too. Ten times the bid's too steep—generously, just double.]
The masked figure—Aster—sensed the energy beyond the special glass and beamed innocently.
'Ah, punish yes, but shake those pockets tight.'
This was justice's Troubleshooter.
The arbiter of evil.
The great sage detached from material desires, teaching the rotten Decullans and greedy Goldrin heirs a lesson.