The Auction (0)
Colin did not do things by halves. Word had it that Adras and his crew were handed straight over to the guards, and they were now standing trial — for the crime of dragging my name into their scheme, and for selling ordinary creek water as a miracle elixir.
Strangely enough, the charge of using my name carried a far heavier penalty than selling fake potions. I couldn't help wondering if it ought to be the other way around.
And then, at long last, auction day arrived. My final war chest, including my mother's trust fund, came to 260,000.
The average winning bid for a Grade 3 monster last year had been 150,000, so 260,000 wasn't just comfortable — it was enough that I could even consider buying shares in other lots as well.
Riding in the rented four-horse carriage that Lily had strained at the belt to secure for me, I entered the auction hall with all the dignity of a general marching to war.
"It is an honor to serve you, Lord Iden Esterzy."
Servants lined both sides of the path as the carriage rolled in, welcoming me. Under their guidance, I made my way to the VVIP-only entrance. Despite all the duchy's finery, the red-carpeted VVIP section felt more like a tacky imitation of true grandeur than the real thing.
"This is my first time entering an auction house through a VVIP passage," Vitten announced, his voice trembling with excitement.
"You must carry yourself with confidence. Remember that your conduct right now is a direct reflection of Lord Iden's face," Thalia warned him with surgical precision.
At the end of the passage, a space reserved for special guests opened up. In a darkness as thick as if blackout curtains had been drawn, small candelabras barely illuminated the round tables.
There were quite a few people present, but whether it was the darkness or some unspoken rule of auction houses, no one seemed inclined to socialize.
What struck me as odd was that it wasn't only grown adults in attendance. Nothing like me, of course, but a fair number of teenagers in their mid-teens were easy to spot.
"Lord Iden's seat is Table 2," Thalia whispered.
"The table numbers are assigned by the guest's importance. Since you are not at Table 1, it's possible one of the other young masters is participating in the auction."
I craned my neck to study the tables arranged at the front. No one who looked like Mabel or Chris caught my eye.
"……Or a proxy, then."
At what appeared to be Table 1 sat some crow of a man. He was so black front and back that at first I mistook him for part of the scenery.
"Stanis, was it?"
"Yes, my lord. He is Chris's close aide."
I had a feeling this was going to be a headache.
If this were a place where strength settled matters, fine — but this was a battlefield of money, where a soul barely scraping by on my stipend was doomed to be the underdog.
For now, I took my seat at Table 2. I approved of the fruit drink already set out — it happened to be my favorite. Little touches like that are how you win a person's heart.
The auction hadn't started yet, so I sipped my drink and studied the neighboring table. With such a prime suspect for competition sitting right there, how could I not? The crow paid no mind to the refreshments before him, radiating the same dreary aura as his master in every direction.
"Lord Iden."
A man seated at Table 3 suddenly called out to me.
He was dressed as lavishly as any noble. The resplendent jewels draped over his silks practically screamed look how much money I have.
But he didn't seem to be a noble. I had a vague sense that the men attending him weren't knights.
He looked to be in his late twenties, and a smile so overflowing with confidence it tipped into obnoxiousness considerably undercut his handsome features.
"My name is Lucian Grey. I have something important to discuss with you — may I have a moment?"
The man's manner dripped with ease, as though we'd been old acquaintances for years.
But Vitten and Thalia's reactions were strange. The instant they heard the name Lucian Grey, they wore expressions of barely restrained urgency, desperate to tell me something.
I told the man to wait a moment, then leaned toward my two knights.
"Do not exchange a single word with that man."
"I'd like to punch that shameless face at least once."
"Who is he, exactly?"
"He is the guildmaster of the Grey Merchant Guild. Even the Adras Company that got tangled up with you the other day is nothing but a branch of Grey. They set up separate trade names and dispatch underlings to minimize their legal exposure."
"A merchant with no blood in his veins. A few years back he appeared in the capital out of nowhere and got rich running every dirty business imaginable. He probably bought his title with coin, too."
So he was the boss of all con artists, was he?
A man like that deserves no courtesy.
I made up my mind and turned to Lucian.
"I have nothing to say to you."
"Why not hear me out first, then decide? My proposal benefits us all."
"I've heard all the proposals I need from your underling. And I've already refused."
"Lord Iden, the auction is beginning," Thalia announced.
Our conversation ended there. The auctioneer, resplendent in formal dress, strode briskly up to the podium.
"Distinguished honored guests, we thank you most sincerely for gracing us with your valuable time today. Please indulge yourselves fully in the wondrous wares and special experiences that only our guild can offer. And now… allow me to present our first item!"
Burly men wheeled an ornate cabinet out from behind the podium. Resting atop it, wrapped in velvet, was an egg the size of a human head.
"This egg was procured by the four-man adventuring party renowned of late as the Golden Arrows, from the deepest reaches of the northern forest — terrain so treacherous that no monster below Grade 4 dares set foot there. Even we cannot know what will hatch from this egg. It may be an Auberbear. It may be a phoenix. Or it may be a dragon's egg! Will any among you dare to challenge the unknown? One bold step could return to you an unimaginable stroke of fortune!"
The man's silver tongue was no joke. He was making me want to bid on something I hadn't given a second thought to.
The mysterious egg opened at two hundred bart. But an opening price was just that — an opening — and the moment competition sparked, the bids snowballed.
"Two thousand!"
"Two thousand! Do I hear more than two thousand?"
"Two thousand five hundred!"
It was mostly the young ones showing interest in the egg. The seasoned veterans merely crossed their arms and watched.
I chose to watch as well. I couldn't afford to be optimistic about how today's auction would go.
After the egg, one unheard-of item after another paraded across the stage. The guild's promise of "special experiences" was no empty boast.
Even items I had no intention of buying — no clear purpose for, like the lava spirit — made me want to open my wallet.
The unicorn horn and the wyvern membrane in particular drew only modest competition, and I figured the Refinement Art could turn them into something decent.
The sole reason I restrained myself was the crow brat seated beside me.
Stanis kept silent through every single lot, as though occupying Table 1 were the very reason for his existence.
The con man across the aisle was just as quiet. The two richest men in the hall had me pinned from either side, conducting a silent demonstration of wealth.
And so a great many wares came and went, until at last the moment I'd been waiting for arrived.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been awaiting. We know full well that the most exalted guests in this hall have watched the entire auction for this one creature alone. What you are about to see is no mere commodity — it is legend incarnate! The nightmare of the underworld, the guardian of the burning earth, the Monarch of Magma! Presenting… the Grade 3 monster — the Lava Spirit!"
When the auctioneer's grand proclamation ended, the crimson curtains parted to either side. To the pounding of drums, a burly handler mounted the stage carrying… a small basket.
…Huh?
No, I hadn't seen wrong. It was definitely a basket. Inside the small iron-wrought basket sat something barely the size of my palm, glowing a fierce, angry red.
"What is that?"
"Wasn't the lava spirit supposed to be the final item?"
The hall began to stir.
"Please, calm yourselves, everyone. What you see before you is indeed a lava spirit — merely a hatchling, not yet an adult. Why else would our wares be so special? Where else could you possibly find the juvenile form of a lava spirit?"
When the commotion refused to die down, the auctioneer tried once more to soothe the crowd.
"We stand before you on our credit alone. I pledge this guild's honor that this little devil will, before long, grow into the very monster of nightmares you all know so well!"
"Vitten."
I turned my head and glared at him. He avoided my gaze like a man caught red-handed.
"What's going on? You told me it was so fat it was spilling out of its cage."
"Ah… my apologies, my lord. That's certainly what I was told… I never imagined a Master-rank would stoop to lying."
"He probably didn't lie. That is what it looks like when it's fat."
There was no up or down in Thalia's tone, so it was impossible to tell whether she was mocking Vitten or scolding him.
"So what do we do? Do we buy that thing or not?"
"The core is too small to even see. As of now, the item is worthless."
"Raise it well, and wouldn't it grow bigger?"
"…Senior."
Thalia's voice dropped another degree.
"Why? They're guaranteeing it on their honor, aren't they? Senior, do you know what a lava spirit eats? Even if you knew, do you think you could actually raise the thing? What Lord Iden needs is monster by-products he can use right now — not a useless burden that defies all reason."
She was a hundred times right. But I didn't want just any monster by-product. I needed the core of a fire-attribute flame spirit specifically.
"Let's buy it first and worry after."
Vitten took my signal and thrust his hand high into the air.
"Ten thousand!"
"Ten thousand! Do I hear more? The juvenile lava spirit, ladies and gentlemen! Where else will you ever find such a thing?"
Then it happened. Stanis, silent as the dead until now, slowly raised his hand.
"Eleven thousand."
"Eleven thousand! Anyone else? Will no one bid above eleven thousand?"
I signaled Vitten again. He raised his hand with confidence.
"Twenty thousand!"
Stanis followed.
"Twenty-one thousand."
"Thirty thousand!"
"Thirty-one thousand."
Stanis never even glanced my way. Each time I bid, he simply ticked up another thousand bart, punctual as clockwork.
Then the bidding crossed 100,000 bart.
"Just give up," the man said, without so much as turning his head.
"What did you say, you bastard?"
Vitten flared up and raised his voice. The man replied in a flat drone with no more inflection than Thalia's.
"I am here on Lord Chris's orders. Whatever sum Lord Iden names, I will bid exactly one thousand bart higher. So give up."
I'd known this would happen. The moment I laid eyes on the man's face, something had smelled off.
Granted, with rumors flying everywhere that I gained power by consuming monster materials, of course someone would move to check me.
But I had no intention whatsoever of backing down quietly. I'd been watching the auction from start to finish, and I'd realized something: this was, unexpectedly, a battle of nerve.
You're the one who should give up. Whatever you bid, I'll raise it by ten thousand more."
"Suit yourself."
"Have you not heard that I'm receiving the backing of House Rein? Go on — try to keep up."
The price began climbing skyward. Vitten raised his arm on my behalf without pause.
"Two hundred thousand! Two hundred thousand! An absolutely staggering sum! Will the hammer fall at this price? Will the Monarch of Magma find his own monarch?"
"Two hundred and one thousand."
"Two hundred one thousand, ladies and gentlemen! Two hundred one thousand!"
The only one having the time of his life was the auctioneer. While he hopped around the stage like a man possessed, I strained with all my might to keep my expression neutral. Because my true limit had truly arrived. Because my bluff was one bid away from collapsing and exposing my bank account to the world.
"Vitten."
"Yes, my lord."
"We go to two hundred fifty thousand."
If this didn't work, there was nothing left. Vitten dredged up his last reserve of strength and bellowed out the bid. Stanis, his face impassive, opened his mouth once more.
"Two hundred fifty-one thousand."
……Damn you, Chris.
Honestly, what a useless human being. Still stewing over the humiliation I gave him last time, apparently, and now determined to trip me up at every turn.
Wait a moment — this didn't just ruin this auction. From now on, every time I tried to buy anything, that crow brat would be there to interfere.
"Lord Iden."
The man at Table 3 addressed me again.
"Might we speak for a moment?"
"This is hardly the time."
"One hour is all I ask. I will pay for the lava spirit in exchange for one hour of conversation with you."
I doubted my own ears. Several hundred thousand bart for a single hour of conversation?
"No further bids at two hundred fifty-one thousand? Then I will count to ten and close the auction! Ten… nine…!"
"…Fine."
I nodded, reluctantly.
"One hour only. On the condition that I win the auction."
The count narrowed to three. The man smiled in satisfaction, then snapped his fingers to draw the auctioneer's attention.
"Five hundred thousand."
The hall began to buzz. Five hundred thousand was double the expected winning price. The auctioneer was so dumbstruck he couldn't even echo the man's bid.
Stanis frowned. He had been told to obstruct me, but it seemed he hadn't come prepared with a countermeasure for this.
"Hey."
Lucian tilted his chin toward Stanis.
"This is for Lord Iden's benefit, so knock yourself out — give up or fight, whatever suits you."
"…What?"
"For the record, I intend to raise your bid by a hundred thousand bart, no matter how high you go."
An attendant tilted the bottle and poured wine into Lucian's glass. With an easy, unhurried gesture, he raised it in a toast.