Chapter 142 – Auction House (2)
The expected value of Maybel's Earrings was 800 million Elk.
Since the starting price was 500 million, Verden thought he could win the bid somewhere around 600 to 700 million, about half of that expectation. But the process turned out to be far more intense than he had imagined.
[Lot 22, 540 million! Lot 54, 550 million! Lot 14, 600 million! In a flash, it passes 600 million Elk! And Lot 43! 610 million Elk!]
Competitors surged in.
In the beginning, many bidders were just testing the waters, so their numbers quickly dwindled. After all, Maybel's Earrings had limited uses. It wasn't particularly outstanding in design to serve merely as jewelry.
Still, there were some who continued to pursue it persistently.
'Especially Lot 14.'
He was pushing the price up aggressively, raising bids by 30 to 50 million Elk each time, as if trying to crush his opponents' competitive spirit outright.
Verden wondered if it might be a ploy to deliberately inflate the final price, but quickly dismissed the thought. If he were a plant, he would have raised the bids more subtly. And above all, the altered voice through the microphone carried a palpable sense of desire.
'An elemental mage, perhaps?'
Highly likely.
If one wielded wide-range elemental magic, the earrings would indeed prove extremely useful.
But the same held true for Verden.
[640 million.]
[650 million.]
[680 million.]
[690 million.]
[730 million.]
Keeping his lips close to the microphone, he raised the bid by the minimum increment.
The price was climbing higher than expected, but Verden had prepared an enormous fund of 5.1 billion Elk precisely for situations like this.
'I won't let a single one slip through my fingers.'
[740 million.]
[Seven hundred… sixty million.]
Annoyance was evident even through the opponent's microphone. The increments had shrunk. It meant the other side couldn't afford to spend much more.
Verden drove the nail in.
[770 million.]
[Lot 43! 770 million Elk! 770 million! Any higher bids?!]
No reply came from Lot 14.
Instead, there was the sound of a desk being slammed in frustration. With the countdown passing unanswered, the auctioneer cried out:
[770 million Elk! Sold! Lot 43! Lot 43! Congratulations!]
Applause erupted from the guards stationed inside the auction house.
The atmosphere heated up further. Since the bidding had reached nearly the expected value right at the start, even the auctioneer's voice rang with excitement.
"Phew."
Having secured his first target, Verden leaned back in his chair.
It was his first time not only participating in but even witnessing such an auction, so it felt awkward. Yet the thrill of winning the bid was undeniable.
'It was worth scraping together every last coin.'
His next target, the Amulet of Thunderwing, had yet to appear.
For now, Verden calmly watched the proceedings.
Whether this year's auction was unusually fierce or if it was always like this, altered voices constantly echoed throughout the hall.
Prices soared by hundreds of millions with just a word, and at times, items were sold far above their expected value.
'Seems there are many wealthy ones here.'
Indeed, the Grand Duke of Riviant himself had once obtained the artifact, the Center of the Three Primary Colors, at such an auction in his youth. Though anonymous, it was clear that high-ranking nobles or their representatives were among the participants.
Verden's funds allowed him to compete, but he had no desire to clash head-on with those kinds of figures.
Just then, a massive double-headed axe was presented.
Over two meters in length, its twin blades larger than a man's torso. Even seasoned warriors would struggle just to lift it, the weight palpable even from afar.
[This axe is called Hwihwol! It has no particular magical effects, but its body and blades are forged of Damascus steel, rare metals, and Plagued alloy, with a trace of the superior metal Solidite added to the edges! Even after cutting down hundreds, its edge will not dull—a weapon of extreme durability! Starting price, 900 million Elk!]
Yet no one was quick to bid.
It was a dilemma. Too heavy and cumbersome to wield, too bulky to carry. As decoration, it was far too crude.
Then, a microphone lit up.
[1.134 billion!]
The booming voice startled the auctioneer, though he maintained his composure with professional discipline.
[Lot 37! 1.134 billion Elk! Any more bids? Going once… twice… sold! 1.134 billion Elk! Congratulations, Lot 37!]
[Kahahahaha! Excellent!]
The exact figure, the laughter, the tone—it was all too easy to guess who Lot 37 was.
'So much for anonymity.'
Verden shook his head, straightening his posture.
Relaxation time was over. Because the next item was one of his goals.
A small, rectangular talisman appeared at center stage.
The Amulet of Thunderwing. Its pale indigo glow shimmered through the glass.
***
Inside Room 14 of the Roafra Auction House.
Two men sat side by side. One was gaunt and thin, the other muscular and massive.
Their builds contrasted sharply, yet their facial features were identical.
The twin magi, Robat and Rocky.
Executives of the Vintert Guard Division, notorious figures in Roafra.
The frail elder brother, Robat, clenched his fists, trembling with fury as he glared at the auction stage.
"Lot 43… who the hell is that bastard…!"
Robat was an elemental mage of the lightning attribute, possessing a high-tier element.
His goals numbered three. Two of them were Maybel's Earrings and the Amulet of Thunderwing.
As a member of Vintert, he had been briefed beforehand and prepared the necessary funds. Since both items had extremely narrow uses, he had thought they'd be easy to secure.
But Maybel's Earrings had been snatched away.
It was infuriating, but tolerable. Compared to the other two, losing the earrings was merely frustrating.
So, when the Amulet of Thunderwing appeared, he bid immediately.
[1 billion Elk.]
A jump of 200 million from the starting 800 million—ten times the minimum increment of 20 million. A declaration to scare off competitors.
But then—
[1.02 billion.]
Lot 43 interfered again. The same number that had claimed the Earrings.
Robat's face twitched as he spoke again.
[1.1 billion.]
[1.12 billion.]
[…1.2 billion.]
[1.22 billion.]
Each time he raised the price, Lot 43 followed at the minimum increment, like deliberate provocation.
Robat's face reddened. He rubbed his forehead and tapped the desk with his fingers. His younger brother Rocky muttered.
"Bro, he's gonna keep following. Why not just give it up?"
"…"
"You gonna push it further? What about my birthday present?"
Ah, yes.
The last of Robat's goals. To buy a gift for his brother, Rocky. He had promised to help him get what he wanted.
He couldn't waste any more. After a moment of hesitation, Robat muttered:
"Just one more time, little brother. It won't interfere with your present."
"Well, in that case, fine…"
Rocky shrugged.
With his brother's permission, Robat gritted his teeth and raised it one last time.
[1...….1.3 billion....!]
This was his limit.
No more. Robat silently prayed Lot 43 would stop. But the world rarely flows as one hopes.
And today was no exception.
[1.32 billion.]
"That son of a—!"
Robat cursed, hurling the microphone aside in frustration.
It was his declaration of surrender. With no reply, the auctioneer shouted that it was sold. Both Maybel's Earrings and the Amulet of Thunderwing now belonged to Lot 43.
Seeing his brother's despair, Rocky offered consolation.
"Don't worry, bro. If nothing else, we can always track him down and take it later, right?"
"An executive of Vintert, robbing a participant at an auction hosted by Vintert itself? That's a violation of the rules. If you end up offending that one's temper, you and I are both as good as dead."
The items presented at the auction did not belong to Vintert.
If they had, then Robat and Rocky wouldn't even need to participate, they would have simply taken whatever they wanted.
Vintert was, after all, only the host of the auction.
Its main role was to revive the prestige of the auction house and reap enormous commissions. If one of its own executives tarnished the reputation of the auction out of greed, they might well be executed by the king of the underworld.
Rocky spoke.
"Who cares where in Roafra he is? We just need to find out who he is, then later catch him outside. Or we could hire someone else to do it."
"What if Lot 43 leaves the kingdom? And do you really think that one wouldn't notice if we hired someone else?"
"Uh… is that so? I guess you're right?"
Rocky scratched his head.
As big as his body was, his wits were not. Robat let out a small sigh and stretched out his hand. Drawn by Telekinesis, the microphone floated back onto the desk.
'It drives me mad with regret, but… there's no helping it.'
Robat steadied his heart with a deep breath.
At least he could still buy his brother a gift, and that comforted him somewhat.
To Robat, his younger brother was more important than any auction bid.
They might amuse themselves killing people for fun, but their brotherhood was stronger than most.
Time passed, and at last Rocky's desired item appeared.
[Set of Gravity Magic Tomes]
Books containing the theory of a high-tier magic that governs immense physical forces.
Rocky bared his teeth in a broad grin. He had made a fuss, saying he wanted to learn a high magic no matter what, insisting he must have it.
'Whether that head of his can actually learn it is another matter…'
Still, he had managed to grasp Imbue Magic, so perhaps he had talent in that direction. Rather than despair, Robat chose to believe in his brother's potential. That was what it meant to be an older brother.
The starting price for the set was 1.5 billion, the expected value 1.8 billion.
Since Robat had not managed to secure a single item yet, pooling his brother's money with his own would more than suffice. Shedding his earlier frustration, he activated the microphone in high spirits.
[1.8 billion.]
[Lo… Lot 14! 1.8 billion! 1.8 billion Elk has been bid!]
He raised the price straight to the expected value from the start. It was both a declaration that he must have it and a gesture to show his heart as a brother.
His younger brother beamed, waiting for the auctioneer's final call. Despite his savage, muscular frame, his face was pure and childlike.
But then—
[1.83 billion.]
[Lot 43! 1.83 billion Elk!]
"…Huh?"
Someone else had joined the bid.
***
'To think he'd raise it to the expected value right from the start.'
Verden had thought the Set of Gravity Magic Tomes, though expensive, would be the easiest to acquire. But now, here it was.
He furrowed his brow and entered the competition at once.
1.83 billion,
1.9 billion,
1.93 billion,
2.0 billion.
The numbers shot upward like madness.
The tomes had value as a collection, yes, but worth over 2 billion? Absolutely not. Judging by such desperation, it wasn't for display in a study—someone truly intended to learn gravity magic.
'This is already the third time crossing paths with Lot 14.'
Whoever he was, Verden had beaten him every time.
Unlike Verden, who had spent nearly half his funds already, Lot 14 hadn't used a coin until now. How much capital he had was impossible to guess.
But Verden had no intention of yielding.
He had about 3 billion left.
Within that, he meant to decide the battle.
Only the microphones of Lot 14 and Lot 43 echoed through the hall.
The contest was so fierce the auctioneer dared not interrupt. Even as the price soared far beyond expectation, neither side backed down.
At last, when it passed 2.2 billion—
[2.7 billion…!]
Lot 14's voice burst out through the microphone, ragged, like he was spitting blood.
A 1.5 billion item had reached 2.7 billion. Even if he won, in terms of value, it was a clear loss. But to bid so high meant he was that desperate. The emotion was plain even in the distorted voice.
'But that's not my concern.'
Verden spoke softly.
[2.73 billion.]
Once again, raising it by only the minimum increment.
Verden's method of bidding seemed designed to provoke, to drive the opponent into fury.
To him, unfamiliar with auctions, it was only the cheapest way to secure the item.
Silence fell.
Then—
KWAAAAANG!
With a roar, Room 14 collapsed. A man with green hair bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Lot 43! What the hell do you think you're doing! How dare you steal my brother's birthday present…!"
"Brother, brother! Calm down! Brother! If you ruin the auction, that one will kill us!"
The hulking younger brother dragged his elder back inside.
A shard of shattered tile rolled onto the stage. The auctioneer, nudging the debris aside with his foot, cleared his throat and composed himself.
[Our apologies. There was a brief disturbance. Now, to continue. Lot 43! 2.73 billion! Going once… twice… thrice… sold! Lot 43! Congratulations!]
With that declaration, all of Verden's goals had been achieved.
Even he felt some tension now. He had spent 4.82 billion Elk, leaving only 280 million in the auction's deposit vault.
Had he foolishly prepared only enough to meet the expected values, he would never have survived such bidding wars.
'Truly fortunate.'
Verden let out a sigh of relief.
His heart felt light. Though busy days awaited—mastering not only 5th-tier Imbue Magic but also Gravity Magic—that was no problem. Time, after all, was on Verden's side.
He ascended slowly upward.
Step by step, in this way, when the affairs in the kingdom were finally concluded, Verden would be someone altogether different.
It was nothing less than certainty.
Time passed, and at last the final item appeared.
[Crown of the Witch's Thorn]
The only artifact of the auction. Starting price, 4.5 billion, expected value, 7.8 billion.
Participants' eyes lit with fire. Their breathing came audibly through microphones, flicking on and off in impatience.
The auctioneer explained the artifact.
Verden watched the strange tension filling the hall.
'Whose hands will the artifact fall into?'
More precisely, at what price would it be sold?
It stirred curiosity in every watcher.
Verden too, eyes alight with interest, waited for the auctioneer's call.
Then, as bidding opened—
[10 billion Elk.]
…The number was on an entirely different scale. The hall erupted in shock. So did Verden.
'10 billion Elk…?'
Far too much, no matter how he thought of it.
Not only that, but the sum itself was incomprehensible.
Where in the world had someone acquired 10 billion in cash?
And to pour it into a bid before competition had even begun? Artifacts were precious, but not this expensive.
'Besides, the Crown of the Witch's Thorn is an artifact difficult to use.'
It had no clear effect, only women could wear it, and if worn too long it was said to kill its wearer.
To Verden, the price was absurd.
Who, how, and for what reason?
Every participant thought the same. But of course, no answer came.
The auctioneer, belatedly regaining composure, glanced to the side.
An associate shook his head. It was no mistake.
The auctioneer swallowed hard, his voice trembling.
[Lo… Lot 4, 10 billion Elk… any, any higher bids?]
Of course, there were none.
Bidding far above value, the 10 billion was a warning in itself. This was mine, do not dare contend, neither here nor outside.
In such a moment, anonymity was meaningless.
The auction's finale, meant to end in a blaze of fierce competition, instead closed in cold shock.
Even Vintert itself had expected a passionate contest, but reality announced the curtain fall with silence and dread.