The atmosphere within the auction hall, already thick with tension, now grew suffocating.
On the stage, the auctioneer's voice rang with barely contained excitement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the final item of tonight's grand auction… has arrived!"
A velvet-draped platform was rolled to the center of the stage. When the cloth was pulled away, a soft green light surged into the air.
The crowd leaned forward as one.
Resting atop an obsidian cushion was a soul bone, its surface emerald-hued, faint lines pulsing like veins with wind-element soul force. The crystalline texture shimmered with light, as if the air itself bent around it.
"A thousand-year-old right leg soul bone," the auctioneer proclaimed solemnly. "Taken from a wind-type flying beast. Its ability, Sky Leaping Gale, grants the user the power to execute a high-speed vertical leap, reaching height of fifty meters into the air, and sustain aerial maneuvering for up to twenty minutes."
The hall instantly erupted into chaos.
"Flight!?"
"A thousand-year-old bone that grants flight-like movement!?"
"This… this is no different than having the power of a Titled Douluo!"
Indeed, in the Douluo world, only when one reached the realm of Titled Douluo could they fly freely without aid. For those still below that level, this soul bone was like stepping into the domain of legends.
Even the elite in the private rooms lost their calm.
"Two hundred thousand gold!"
"Three hundred thousand!"
"Four hundred thousand!"
Bids came flying like arrows loosed in battle.
Once again, Bing Clan and City Lord Nalan Yan rose to the fray.
"This soul bone cannot fall into the wrong hands!" the elder Bing Lan from the Bing Clan declared, slamming his cane on the floor. "Our clan has defended Winter City's skies for a century. Give us this face!"
Nalan Yan, no longer veiling his frustration, shot back, "What nonsense. The defense of the city is the duty of the City Lord's Mansion. This soul bone belongs to the rightful guardian—me."
The crowd murmured in discomfort. Face was being used as a weapon now, tossed around like knives.
Then came the sarcasm.
"Oh?" the elder Bing Lan sneered. "Guardians who sleep in their cushioned manor?"
"And here I thought your clan only knew how to lose duels in public," Nalan Yan said with a cold smile. "Your eldest heir cried for half a day last month, didn't he?"
The tension snapped. No one remembered this being a peaceful auction anymore.
Just as it threatened to descend into open shouting—
"Six hundred thousand," came a quiet, bored voice.
It silenced the entire room.
All eyes turned, again, toward Booth Forty-Seven.
That young man… again!?
Even the auctioneer blinked in disbelief. He stammered, "S-Six hundred thousand… going once…"
Bing Lan stood. "You! Are you mocking us deliberately, outsider!?"
Nalan Yan didn't speak, but his folded fan twitched in his grip. His narrowed eyes glinted with suspicion.
The crowd had begun whispering wildly. Who was this person? He had not only disrespected both major powers, but now even competed over a soul bone that could make mid-tier Soul Kings soar through the skies like gods!
In the private rooms, sect representatives from other regions now scribbled down notes.
"Sold!" the auctioneer declared at last, his voice cracking with excitement.
The gavel slammed down. The soul bone was gone.
And so was everyone's patience.
The auction ended, but the storm had just begun.
The lights dimmed one by one, and the grandeur that had captivated the entire Winter City faded into silence. One by one, guests filtered out of the grand hall, their expressions ranging from satisfied smiles to frustrated scowls.
Among them were the members of the Bing Lan Clan and the City Lord's Mansion, both wearing stiff, unreadable expressions, but their eyes still flickered with the smoldering remnants of indignation. They had suffered not just defeat, but humiliation in front of all the powers of the city.
Still, they exchanged only fleeting glances, each silently agreeing not to make a scene here. The Young Noble Boy , as they now referred to the mysterious bidder, had no known background, but he had money, arrogance, and boldness. To them, he was a nouveau riche, undeserving of the treasures he'd obtained.
"He'll learn soon," one Bing Clan member muttered as they walked out.
The young man, whose persona was probably a disguise, had left without a word, as composed as he had arrived. Though he had stirred up a storm, he stepped away as if none of it concerned him. Once he was gone, the crowd slowly began to disperse in earnest.
When the hall was nearly empty and even the auction staff had begun packing away the remnants of the event, two cloaked figures also stood up from their seats.
Their movements were slow, deliberate. No one paid them any attention, they had perfectly blended in with the auction crowd earlier, and now they were just two more nobodies leaving late.
But as the shorter figure stepped out into the moonlight…
A faint strand of golden hair slipped free from the edge of the hood.
Just for a moment.
It caught the pale light like silk spun from starlight, glimmering with a warmth completely unlike the coldness of Winter City's night.
The taller figure paused slightly, as if noticing it, but did not react.
And in the next breath, they were gone.