Sword of Fate 4
"What...."
It was someone's murmur.
Licht stared blankly at the resplendent golden sword mounted on the platform. Light concentrated in one spot cascaded down the blade like shattering fragments. The Ascension Sword, seen again, matched the image etched in his memory perfectly. The golden blade stretched unbroken from tip to guard to pommel. Crimson curves were engraved upon it. The harmony of gold and red blended in a harmony so perfect it bordered on discord. No one could tear their eyes away.
"The Ascension Sword... that's what they called it?"
"Orkin's divine blade?"
"It's a fake, right? No way even Artal would put up the real thing...."
Commotion erupted on both the first and second floors. Some doubted the sudden divine relic, others gawked in stunned silence, and a few glared at the platform with eyes gleaming in greed. Yet no one called a bid first. They eyed each other warily in the air thick with tension, ready to explode.
"Starting bid of 20 million silver...."
"'Miracle of the Skies' just went for 5 million a minute ago. Something's off."
"What are you doing? Just gonna gawk like an idiot?"
"But still, the money...."
"Are you a real moron? It's Orkin's divine sword—divine sword! Who cares about the cash? Once it's yours, people will line up to pay ten times over. Borrow if you have to!"
"R-Really? Then...."
"21 million!"
Like a spark igniting the fuse.
Someone shouted from the first floor in a voice that burrowed deep into minds.
That was the start.
"22 million!"
"23 million! 23 million!"
[22, now 23 million!]
"25 million!"
[Ah, straight to 25 from that VIP box....]
"27 million!"
[2—27 million!]
Bids soared terrifyingly fast. The VIPs who had missed out on the Miracle of the Skies leaped from their seats, shouting at the top of their lungs.
"Orkin... Orkin's Imperial Ascension Sword? Why—of all things—why here...!"
A young heir from the Bartenberg family spat through gritted teeth. But no one heard amid the auction house's deafening roar.
Even in the chaos, Licht kept gazing intently at the platform.
Ascension Sword... why is that here?
The first thought was doubt.
Orkin's emperor bestowed the sunlit divine sword only upon a select few—those of five-star general rank or higher. The seven blades that had overwhelmed him at death's door in his final moments were all forged entirely from pure solarilium: Ascension Swords.
Which made it even harder to understand.
The Ascension Sword was said to possess its own will. It chose its master. In the hands of one unworthy, it dispersed aura and mana outright.
No master?
Ridiculous.
For starters, how had it ended up in Artal? A kingdom dominant in the continent's south was but a worm compared to the northern Orkin Empire. For such a sword to reach Artal, its owner—worthy of imperial bestowal—must have handed it over personally. That made even less sense.
Shaking off Orkin's pursuit alone?
Something's rotten.
A prickling unease stabbed the back of his neck. Licht's eyes narrowed as he stared at the sword.
"Sorry."
She spoke apologetically, seeing his twisted expression. The bids had already surpassed what she could handle. She must have thought he'd taken offense.
"I had no idea that was the sword forged from pure solarilium...."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"You wanted it, right? I'd buy it for you if I could...."
The bids had just crossed 40 million. It was out of reach.
Licht replied impassively.
"No. I don't need it anyway. Better to get something else."
If it had a master, it was useless to him.
"Don't need it? Why?"
"It's weird. Really weird."
Aren, who had been staring blankly at the platform just like Licht, suddenly muttered.
"Weird how?"
"Orkin's divine sword... I've heard of it, but something this big showing up? Doesn't make sense. Even if that Melberk guy is called the Golden King, there's a limit...."
"That weird?"
"It's a sword bestowed by the emperor himself. For it to hit an auction in far-off Arhen Kingdom? That's treason. No way the Empire lets it slip out easily. Something's...."
"Something?"
"Smells fishy. A really foul smell. Don't you think so, young master?"
Aren glanced at Licht. Unlike the other VIPs frothing at the mouth with mad bids, he stayed cool—mage instincts, probably.
"It's Artal. Stuff like this can pop up. Seems that's what they think...."
Aren turned with a worried look. Someone in a VIP box was shouting.
"50 million!"
[50 million! Same as the Miracle of the Skies!]
[Anyone higher? Orkin's divine sword—divine sword!]
The auctioneer hyped it up, unsatisfied. A smug grin spread on the burly bidder's face.
"That guy wasn't bidding earlier, right?"
"He skipped the Miracle on purpose... like he knew the Ascension Sword was coming...."
"Tch...!"
A tall youth leaning on the railing glared murderously at the burly man, who sneered back dismissively.
[50 million called. Anyone higher?]
[Three calls now. 50 million, 50 million, 50 million...!]
"55 million."
From the first floor. All eyes snapped to a hooded, burly man.
[55 million! Back to square one! Higher than 55?]
The burly man's face soured instantly. He shouted again.
"60 million!"
[60, 60 million...]
"70 million."
[7—70 million! From the mystery gentleman!!]
Even the silent onlookers started whispering.
"70 million?"
"Insane...."
"Gonna break the record today?"
"95 million was the max, I think...."
"Over 100 million, easy...."
The auctioneer's voice boomed, brimming with excitement.
[80 million!! The VIP box surges ahead without hesitation!]
"85 million."
[Aaaah! Mystery gent counters with 85!]
"You rootless scum—90 million! 90 million!"
[90 million! Just a bit more and...!]
"100 million."
"......!"
Silence blanketed the auction house.
The burly man's face drained to ashen blue.
"100... 100 million...."
"Did I hear that right? 100 million now?"
"Record broken."
"Damn...."
[100 million. 100 million. 100 million!!! Anyone higher? Three calls.]
[100 million for Orkin's pure solarilium divine sword, the Ascension Sword! Sold!!]
Clap clap clap clap clap!
Thunderous applause shook the hall. Everyone clapped in unison, thrilled by the spectacle.
But the hooded burly man didn't react. He simply stared at the platform as if it were only natural.
The auctioneer wiped sweat from his brow and spoke again.
[Whew. Today's auction is... truly the greatest in Artal history. Honored to host. Now, next item....]
He composed himself and proceeded smoothly. A staff topped with a massive magic stone, a green elixir for mana control, a ring embedded with a huge diamond, a bizarre spear with twin blades—all under 5 million. The Miracle and Ascension Sword had been outliers; this was the norm.
At last, only one item remained.
[The 39th Artal Auction draws to a close. One final item left! Here it is.]
The item on the platform was a pitch-black iron sword, rusted over entirely.
"A sword? Third one today already."
"After the Miracle and Ascension Sword... that's it. Auction's done."
[Hey now, don't look so glum—check this out!]
The auctioneer lifted the black iron sword.
[Looks like worthless junk, right? But... like this!]
He slammed it down.
Craaaack—!
"Agh!"
"What the hell?!"
[It makes the strangest sound! Tests show unmatched durability—even rivals the Ascension Sword. More club than sword, but perfect for an unbreakable weapon on the cheap.]
[Starting at 50 thousand silver.]
No takers despite his cheer. Everyone eyed the black iron sword like trash.
Aila sighed deeply.
"Licht."
"......"
"What now? No guarantee the last one's a sword either. Three already."
"Young master, don't take it too hard. We can find swords elsewhere. I know a good forge in Sector 3...."
"10 million."
"...Huh?"
Licht said quietly. Aila blurted in shock.
[Whoa! 10 million from that VIP box!]
The auctioneer, scrambling amid the chill, lit up with excitement.
All eyes turned to Licht.
"What'd he say? 10 million?"
"Lunatic. Throwing money in the dirt."
"Would've taken me if you'd waited a bit...."
[10 million! Anyone higher?]
No one would. They stared at Licht like he was mad.
Aila and Aren looked flustered too.
Licht ignored them.
Found it.
Fate? His heart pounded harder than ever. Vision narrowed.
No one here knew its worth. To Licht, it was worth ten times the Ascension Sword.
The one he'd gripped until the end—the one he'd thought lost forever.
[10 million, 10 million, 10 million. Sold for 10 million silver!!]
The auctioneer called it briskly. No applause. They saw Licht's move as the whim of a madman.
"No, wait...."
"Young master, why...."
Aila and Aren muttered incomprehension.
Licht brushed it off. As the auctioneer opened his mouth for the finale—
Swish.
"Huh?"
The hooded burly man—the Ascension Sword winner—stood without a sound. He strode to the platform unfazed.
"What's he doing?"
"Ascension Sword fever? Even if he's eager...."
[And now the auction nears its end. Finally... huh?]
The auctioneer noticed late and addressed him.
[Wait, please wait, sir. Can't go up uninvited. I understand, but this violates Artal rules....]
"The Ascension Sword."
He was already onstage, sword somehow in hand.
"Was mine from the start."
[Wha—?]
Shiiiing!
A pale blade-flash fell vertically. The body split from head down. Fresh blood gushed from the cross-section as the halves crumpled. A futile death. The auctioneer died with eyes wide in blank shock, clueless to the end.
The hall, quiet till then, erupted into pandemonium.
"Kyaaah!"
"H-He killed him? Just murdered someone?"
"Fuck—guards! Guards, do something! Stop them!"
"Outta my way! Move, asshole! I'm getting out first!"
"Aaaah!"
"Help! Somebody!"
Squelch! Splurt!
Horrid rending sounds echoed everywhere. Those rising to flee were butchered by unseen blades.
The VIPs watching muttered.
"What the—Artal security breached?"
"No, they were hiding inside from the start. Damn it, group up! They're still on the first floor!"
"Everyone, here! No attackers in VIPs! To me!"
A sword-bearing man shouted. His sheathed blade looked high-quality; his stance and aura screamed noble scion.
Aren, now standing, said,
"Miss, over here."
"What the hell...."
"Terror attack. Anti-kingdom faction, probably... Perfect target with all these VIPs. They went quiet lately—were they waiting? But Artal guards shouldn't fold this easy...."
He rambled, flustered by the sudden chaos.
Licht eyed the platform—the man holding the Ascension Sword.
"Attention!"
His voice boomed.
"Nox claims Artal now! Anyone moving or scheming dies."
"......"
"Golden King Melberk. Until he shows, you're all hostages. VIP second floor included. No one leaves. Mana suppression ritual covers all Artal—no funny ideas. Aura too. Stay put if you value your blood."
"What?"
"Who the hell you think you are, spouting shit?"
"Nox? Fuck your Nox. Know where you are? Hey, you psycho anti-kingdom bastards!"
Rebellion flared from the VIPs. First floor folk, trapped by armed thugs at the doors, stayed mute in terror, praying for it to end.
Aren, face grim as he listened, raised a hand experimentally.
Whoosh! Fizzle.
Flames flared on his palm then died. Other mages, including Aila, fared the same. Gathered mana dispersed on visualization. The suppression ritual was real.
Faces darkened. Licht asked,
"Anti-kingdom faction?"
"Infamous group. Known as Nox. Went quiet lately—wondered what they were up to...."
"Rebels?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Means we can kill them all, right."
"W-Wait!"
"Wh-What? What's that guy doing?"
"Don't act alone!"
As Aila and the VIPs shouted, Licht was already vaulting the railing.
Mana suppression dulled efficiency, not blocked it entirely.
Over the rail, Licht reached from midair toward the platform's iron sword.
Whiiiish!
"Gahk!"
A nearby foe impaled. Licht snatched the flying sword with practiced ease.
And called.
Azure Flower.
Vrrrrm!
White mana tendrils obeyed his will, stripping rust from the iron sword. As pure radiance burst, the blade revealed itself.
Crystal-clear like glass. Deep azure light swirled within—like the ocean captured whole.
First-floor folk recoiled reflexively. Licht landed lightly amid them.
Thud!
The masked man gutted by Azure Flower face-planted. Blood poured from his pierced belly, like the auctioneer's bisected corpse.
Drip drip.
It pattered down from the platform.
The hooded man addressed the intruder in disbelief.
"Who are you?"
"Licht."
The white mask fell at his feet.
"Licht Sientia."
Plop.
Under bright lights, black hair and eyes gleamed. Gasps rose as Azure Flower, reunited with its master, wailed sharply.