How High Will It Go?

Auctions in the spiritual world had always been a playground for the Great Families.

The Hae Family.

They were merchants to the bone, boasting the greatest wealth among the Twelve Zodiac Families.

Though none of them possessed the hands to forge spiritual tools themselves, they were born with an innate genius for buying and selling them.

It was no exaggeration to say that the lifeblood of the spiritual world's economy flowed directly through their hands.

The largest spiritual auction house in Korea, operated by this very Hae Family, was Manbogak.

On ordinary days, it was merely a marketplace where minor spiritual tools and elixirs changed hands.

But once a year.

There came a time when Manbogak commanded the undivided attention of the entire spiritual world.

The Festival of a Hundred Flowers.

During this limited-time event, the direct workshops of each family proudly showcased the masterpieces they had spent the past year honing.

While it was nominally an auction, in truth, it was a battle of pride between the family workshops—an exhibition to boast of their annual harvest.

Whichever workshop's item fetched the highest price.

That would determine the industry hierarchy for the rest of the year.

The key highlights for this year's festival had been decided long in advance.

Rumors were rife that the grand painter of the Suzaku family, Yoo Cheong-wol, was releasing a new masterpiece painting spell for the first time in ten years.

Meanwhile, Cheonhwadang had announced the debut of their highly anticipated, top-tier Byeong-grade line: the Red Lotus series.

Top-tier Byeong-grade.

That alone was enough to make the festival a grand affair.

An Eul-grade?

Hardly anyone expected such a thing in the first place.

Even for an Eul-grade artisan, crafting such items was not something done on a whim.

It required squeezing out the essence of a lifetime's honed skill, combined with years of research, to produce a single masterpiece.

That was what it meant to be Eul-grade.

Whether one could produce a single piece in a lifetime, once in ten years, or, with immense luck, once in five years.

Even the creator themselves could not predict it.

Thus, in any year when even a single Eul-grade item appeared at the Festival of a Hundred Flowers, it became the sole topic of conversation for the entire year.

Yet.

This year, three had appeared.

And not from a prestigious family workshop, either.

But under the name of an outsider whose origins no one could trace.

When the listing for the Festival of a Hundred Flowers was released, the public reaction was nothing short of explosive.

It made absolutely no sense.

Three Eul-grade items.

That was a feat that would take an entire renowned family workshop several years to accomplish.

Naturally, doubts began to surface.

Right around then, an artisan from a relatively well-known workshop chimed in, adopting a dignified tone.

In short, he was calling him a fraud.

It was a plausible argument.

Public opinion quickly began to tilt in one direction.

A scam.

That Artisan Do of the Cheonsan Sect was undoubtedly up to something.

The public was rapidly settling on that conclusion.

Yet, in stark contrast to the public skepticism.

On the eve of the auction, Manbogak released their official appraisal result. It was a single line.

A merchant might lie, but a merchant's scales never did.

Needless to say, the forums erupted.

The main branch of Cheonhwadang.

Han Ye-rin's expression was grim as she entered the Vice Hall Master's office.

As the Vice Hall Master of Cheonhwadang, Han Ye-rin had been bombarded with a relentless stream of reports since early morning.

It was all because of the absurd news that Artisan Do of the Cheonsan Sect had submitted three Eul-grade items to the Festival of a Hundred Flowers.

And of all times, it had to be now.

"……Did you call for me, Vice Hall Master?"

The man summoned to her office was one of Cheonhwadang's chief artisans.

He was the very person who, just a few days ago, had turned away the request to repair Ishihara's sword on his own authority.

Han Ye-rin tapped her fingertip against the tablet resting on her desk.

The screen displayed the article that had thrown the entire industry into an uproar over the past few days.

The Sword Demon, Ishihara.

He was a legendary swordsman who had dominated the Japanese archipelago a generation ago.

Even now, decades after his passing, there was no one in the Japanese spiritual world who did not know his name.

And Han Ye-rin had recognized it instantly just by looking at the photo in the article.

She knew exactly what sword the granddaughter was holding.

The sword that cut through spells.

It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the very beloved blade that had made the Sword Demon a legend.

For the past few days, mockery had trailed Cheonhwadang on every forum, pointing out how they had turned the sword away without even daring to touch it.

"So... a masterpiece of that caliber walked right through our doors, and you decided to turn it away on your own authority. Is that correct?"

"T-that is..."

The man broke into a cold sweat and hung his head.

If only that sword had fallen into Cheonhwadang's hands, the story would have been entirely different.

They could have made excuses, claiming it would take time because it was an Eul-grade item.

While keeping the weapon in their possession, they could have taken their time analyzing its internal spell circuits.

If possible, they could have forged a replica.

Even if that proved too difficult, they could have at least applied fragments of its technology to launch a new product line.

On top of that, they could have signed the granddaughter as an exclusive model, using her as the face of Cheonhwadang.

'Cheonhwadang revives the legend of the Sword Demon.'

That single headline would have been the perfect card to elevate Cheonhwadang's reputation not just in Japan, but globally.

And yet, all those possibilities...

...had been kicked away by the incompetent fool standing before her.

"Vice Hall Master... I swear, they never mentioned a single word about it being the Sword Demon's blade..."

"……Enough. Get out of my sight."

The man bowed repeatedly, practically fleeing the room.

Once the door clicked shut, Han Ye-rin leaned back deeply into her chair.

"……To think we have someone like that as a chief artisan."

She scoffed, letting out a dry laugh.

Then again, whom could she blame?

The well of talent in this industry had run dry long ago. The reality of the field was that they had to lower their standards repeatedly just to fill the ranks with people like him.

'……Well, what's done is done.'

The real problem was the person who had scooped up the spilled water.

Artisan Do of the Cheonsan Sect.

She had known for a while that an rogue artisan from the outside had been making quite a stir lately.

She simply hadn't paid him any mind.

The higher-ups of the family already seemed to have their eyes on him, so she figured he would be dealt with in due time even if she left him alone.

No matter how much he hid behind the name of the Cheonsan Sect, how could he possibly retaliate when he wouldn't even know which family had made the move?

There was no need for her to get her own hands dirty.

But now.

'……Three Eul-grades?'

And simultaneously, at that.

This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was on a completely different level from merely repairing a single sword by chance.

'……If that's the case...'

There was only one logical answer.

This "Artisan Do" was nothing more than a convenient figurehead.

In reality, the hidden masters within the Cheonsan Sect were crafting these items and using this greenhorn as a front to release them to the market.

What on earth were they plotting?

'……Well, that's not what's important right now.'

This Festival of a Hundred Flowers was supposed to be the debut stage for Cheonhwadang's Red Lotus series, a top-tier Byeong-grade line they had poured three years of sweat and blood into.

It was Cheonhwadang's biggest event of the year, with a packed schedule of press interviews already lined up.

And now, some nobody who had crawled out of nowhere was about to rain on their parade.

At this rate, the spotlight would be stolen entirely.

'……I can't let that happen.'

Han Ye-rin picked up the receiver on her desk.

The call was answered before the second ring.

"Oh, it's nothing major. I was just calling to check in."

Han Ye-rin offered a soft laugh.

"By the way, I hear Manbogak has been quite noisy lately. ……You seem to have placed items of rather dubious origin right in the center of the banquet table?"

"Director."

"I don't need to spell out exactly how much our Genbu family contributes to Manbogak every year, do I?"

The sound of a dry gulp echoed through the receiver.

Han Ye-rin cast her gaze out the window, her voice dropping to a chilly register.

"Should we pull all our items? Oh, and you should know that it won't just be Cheonhwadang withdrawing our listings."

The director scrambled to find his words.

He should have been this cooperative from the start.

"That's just how banquets go. When an uninvited guest ruins the mood..."

The corners of her lips curved upward.

"...the host has to clean things up."

And when the auction finally opened, the Dokkaebibul community literally caught fire.

For the freelance ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spiritualists who had long been fed up with the tyranny of the Great Families, this event was a pure, cathartic release.

The traffic on Manbogak's listing pages was so immense that the servers were on the verge of crashing, and people felt a rush of pure dopamine as they watched the bids skyrocket in real-time.

People spent the entire day glued to their screens.

Whether they were working or eating, they constantly refreshed the Manbogak auction page.

Every time the numbers ticked upward, the forums shook with excitement.

And as time went on...

Up and up it went.

The bidding showed no signs of slowing down.

The three spiritual tools were trampling the authority the Great Families had spent lifetimes building.

And they were doing it in a matter of days.

Just like that.

Right when the star of the show was about to be completely replaced, it happened.

"……Huh?"

On the morning of the fourth day.

People who refreshed the auction page as usual were greeted by the exact same screen.

The dagger.

The bow, and the necklace.

All three items had vanished without a trace.

Soon after, a dry, single-line notice was posted on Manbogak's announcement board.

The forum instantly descended into chaos.

Shock, confusion, criticism directed at the Great Families, and mockery aimed at Dohyun tangled together in a messy heap.

The festive atmosphere that had filled the air just moments ago cooled in an instant, as if doused in freezing water.

Clang! Clang!

Amidst the rhythmic sounds of hammering, a telephone conversation drifted from one corner of the workshop.

"Yes. ……Yes. Insufficient verification. Oh, of course. If those are the rules, what can we do? Yes, thank you for your hard work."

Hanging up the phone, Seo Ji-an looked down at her screen and grinned.

I pushed the heated iron back into the forge and asked,

"Was that Manbogak?"

"Yes. They just officially notified us. All three items have been canceled."

She shrugged and added,

"……Just as expected."

Indeed.

From the very day they listed the items, Seo Ji-an had warned that this was the most likely outcome.

Manbogak belonged to the Hae Family, and even the Hae Family had no choice but to walk on eggshells around the 4 Great Families.

Furthermore, the Festival of a Hundred Flowers was originally a stage designed specifically for the workshops of the Great Families.

It was a place where they could showcase their new creations, pit them against one another, and inflate their value and reputation to the maximum.

The Hae Family were merely merchants who set the table for this feast in exchange for a cut of the transaction fees.

So, no matter how high the bidding for our items soared.

They could not afford to alienate the big spenders who would continue to fill their tables for years to come just for a quick buck today.

A merchant never makes a deal that loses them their biggest client.

"Honestly, it's a miracle we even lasted four days."

Seo Ji-an smiled.

It was Manbogak itself that had declared the items genuine. For them to turn around now and claim 'insufficient verification' was a laughably lazy excuse.

"But thanks to that, only one thing will remain in people's minds."

Artisan Do of the Cheonsan Sect.

He is the real deal—so much so that the Great Families had to scramble to block him.

"Hehe……."

Seo Ji-an covered her mouth, letting out a mischievous chuckle.

"Well then. Shall we move on to the next step?"

A few days later.

A post appeared on the Dokkaebibul forum.

It was an ordinary post.

It referred to an online auction site frequented by ordinary people who had absolutely no connection to the spiritual world.

A place where antiques, crafts, and the like were traded.

In the photo.

Resting quietly on a worn-out stand, right in the center of the necklace...

...was a blue spiritual stone as round and bright as the full moon.

It was one of the very three items that had thrown the spiritual world into such a frenzy for the past four days.

The Necklace of the Deep Blue Sea — Eul-grade.

And from that day forward.

For that single necklace, which looked like nothing more than an antique accessory to ordinary people...

...a suspiciously massive flood of bidding inquiries began to pour in.