1,000 gold coins," his voice bellowed through the entire auction hall from the top seat, his hand pressed against the magical formation that amplified his voice for all to hear.
Instantly, the audience burst into noise.
"1,000 gold coins?"
"Did someone really just say 1,000?"
"We were at 700 a moment ago!"
"Who throws 1,000 gold on a sword that isn't even an artifact?"
Thousands murmured in disbelief.
Across the VIP rooms, several powerful figures frowned, wondering who was insane, or rich, enough to do that.
Inside another VIP room, the count stiffened. His face twisted with irritation. He needed that sword, no, the material hidden inside it, and he had planned everything down to the last coin. He'd been denied extra funds. Every remaining piece of gold was from his own pocket.
Still, he grit his teeth and wrote:
"2,000 gold coins."
That would crush any competition. No one would bid above 2,000 for a sword worth barely 500.
Except,
"2,100 gold coins."
