— The Sacred Healing Salve —
The hospital room was thick with despair.
Seraphine, once the radiant campus belle, now looked worn and pale as she kept vigil by her mother's bedside. Her mother, Vivienne, wept bitterly into the sheets.
"Mom, please don't cry," Seraphine whispered, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "Modern medicine is advanced—your legs will heal..."
"Heal?" Vivienne snapped her head up, eyes blazing. "The doctors said my kneecaps are shattered! It's all Eren's fault! I know he sent someone to run me over!"
"Mom, he's in prison..."
The door creaked open, and her friend Clara slipped inside, a mysterious glint in her eyes. "Seraphine... there might still be hope for your mother's legs."
"What?" Vivienne's tears ceased instantly. "Clara, is that true?"
Clara lowered her voice. "Have you heard of... the Black Jade Rejoining Salve?"
"Isn't that just a legend from martial arts tales?" Seraphine asked, disbelief coloring her tone.
"It's real," Clara affirmed. "There's a black market auction tomorrow. Rumor says this sacred ointment will appear there."
A spark of hope lit Seraphine's eyes. "Take me there!"
Clara's expression turned uneasy. "The auction is exclusive—only martial artists are allowed. But... you could ask Young Master Damien."
At that name, Seraphine fell silent.
That cold, ruthless man was the last person she wanted to turn to.
---
Bay Manor, Training Chamber
Damien slowly opened his eyes. A stream of white energy shot from his lips, piercing clean through a distant rock garden.
"Congratulations, Young Master, on reaching the Grandmaster-tier Warrior!" Erskine knelt on one knee, his voice filled with reverence.
Damien's expression was serene, untouched by pride. "I've heard a masked Great Grandmaster-tier Warrior has appeared in the Novalis Sector. If the chance arises, we must befriend him."
"Understood." Erskine hesitated. "There is one more matter... Miss Seraphine's mother is severely injured. She seeks the Black Jade Rejoining Salve. The auction is tomorrow..."
Damien's face darkened. "What does her mother's condition have to do with me?"
But after a moment's thought, he replied coldly, "The wedding is near. Don't let her cause trouble. Take her there. And see if there's anything worth bidding on."
— Entry —
Early the next morning, Eren set off for the black market auction with Darius.
"Overlord, with Miss Lyra absent—why still wear the mask?" Darius ventured cautiously.
Eren shot him a faint glance, and Darius shuddered, quickly explaining, "The Sixfold Trade Guild dislikes it when attendees hide their faces. I fear it might cause trouble."
Eren saw the logic and removed the mask.
Darius relaxed slightly. "Overlord, once inside, we must follow the black market's rules. Please avoid conflict. If you see any treasures you like, bid freely. The Iron Vow Society will cover the costs."
Eren nodded. "I understand. I've always been honest and law-abiding. I never go looking for trouble."
Darius's mouth twitched. Honest and law-abiding? He thought of the eight grandmasters decapitated just yesterday. Overlord, your definition is... unique.
Two hours later, the car stopped at the foot of a misty mountain.
Eren looked up. A manor with white walls and grey tiles stood half-hidden in the clouds, emanating grandeur. The parking area was filled with luxury cars, and everyone there moved with the steady grace of martial artists.
"Well, if it isn't Iron Vow Leader Darius? Heard you've become someone's dog?" a mocking voice called out.
Darius turned, face dark. A group approached, led by a man in a traditional Tang suit, eyes sharp—his old rival, Zuberi, leader of the Four Seas Hall.
"Zuberi, my affairs are none of your concern!" Darius retorted coldly.
Zuberi smirked. "I just want to see what a lapdog can do!"
He launched forward without warning, his palm strike fierce and direct.
Already injured, Darius was quickly overpowered. A heavy blow to his chest sent him flying, blood spraying from his lips.
"Pathetic!" Zuberi pressed his advantage, leaping into the air with a fist aimed at Darius's skull.
In desperation, Darius looked toward Eren.
"Stop." Eren's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"Who do you think you are?" Zuberi sneered, not slowing his attack.
Eren's eyes turned icy. With a casual wave of his hand—
THUD!—Zuberi flew backward like a broken kite, landing motionless.
Silence fell. Everyone stared at Eren, a terrifying suspicion dawning— The Masked Warrior!
---
"Who dares cause trouble at the Sixfold Trade Guild's auction?!" A figure descended from above, his aura overwhelming.
"It's Elder Loki!" someone gasped.
The old man scanned the scene, his gaze locking onto Eren. "Boy, you dare kill on our grounds? Do you hold the Sixfold Trade Guild in contempt?"
Eren laughed coldly. "Where were you when Zuberi attacked? Now you appear to blame me? How hypocritical."
Elder Loki flew into a rage. "Kneel and apologize, and I might let you live!"
"Piss off if you want to live," Eren replied, his tone still calm.
"You seek death!" The elder unleashed his full Grandmaster power, a palm strike tearing through the air.
The crowd was certain Eren was doomed.
Yet, in the next moment—blood sprayed. Elder Loki's head soared upward, his face frozen in disbelief.
"How... is this possible..." His final words faded into the silence.
The crowd was horrified. This young man had killed a Sixfold Trade Guild elder!
Eren sighed. "I never wanted to kill." He flicked his fingers, and flames consumed the bodies, turning them to ash. "A final send-off."
Just then, a strange, enchanting fragrance drifted on the breeze. Everyone's expressions shifted—
She had arrived.
The mountain wind carried the scent of blood and incense, whispering that the auction would not begin in peace.
— Accusation —
Two figures descended the mountain path.
The young woman wore an elegant white dress, a veil covering her face, revealing only eyes that shone like stars. Even hidden, her presence was captivating.
Beside her, an old man with white hair and a youthful spirit moved with an immortal's grace.
"Grandfather Seven, can you see through him?" the woman asked softly, gazing at the young man below.
The old man looked grave. "Strange. I cannot read him. His aura flickers—sometimes mortal, sometimes abyssal. Highly unusual."
The woman was surprised. "Even you cannot? Could he be a Great Master? But he's so young..."
"His cultivation is unclear, but he is likely the 'Masked Martial Artist' from yesterday's rumors."
"How should we approach him?"
The old man pondered, then spoke eight words:
"Make a friend, never an enemy."
The woman nodded. To her attendants, she said, "Let's go meet him."
---
The woman was Selene Drax, overseer of the auction and daughter of Magnus Drax, leader of the Sixfold Trade Guild.
Her presence alone parted the crowd. Though her aura was calm, no one dared disrespect her—
The Sixfold Trade Guild's influence spanned the continent, respected even by the Global Vigil-Wyrm Alliance (GVA).
Selene walked slowly toward Eren, her gaze cool.
"To kill on the Sixfold Trade Guild's grounds... you have nerve."
The crowd tensed. An invisible pressure filled the air.
---
Just then, three newcomers arrived, staring in shock.
"He's here?" Seraphine and Clara exclaimed together.
Seeing Eren had offended the Sixfold Trade Guild, Seraphine turned pale. She grabbed Erskine's sleeve. "Please, save him!"
Erskine snorted coldly. "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Miss Seraphine, you are to wed the Young Master soon. Best not care for other men."
Seraphine's heart sank into despair.
---
In the center, Eren and Selene's eyes met.
After a long moment, Eren's lips curved slightly. "Accusing me? Are you prepared?"
Selene felt a chill, understanding the threat in his words. That faint smile was more terrifying than any killing intent.
The air grew still.
Then, suddenly, Selene smiled.
"You live up to your reputation. Come with me—some words are best spoken in private."
Eren smiled back and followed.
Darius hurried after, leaving the crowd in stunned silence.
"That's it?"
"She's not pursuing it?"
"With enough power, even the Sixfold Trade Guild yields..."
As whispers spread, Seraphine finally breathed a sigh of relief.
But Erskine gritted his teeth, jealousy burning within.
— Recruitment —
In the manor's reception room, incense curled in the air.
Eren sat calmly in a sandalwood chair. "Miss Selene, how do you plan to handle this?"
Selene studied him, then smiled meaningfully.
"Handle this? No... I came with an invitation."
Eren raised a brow.
"On behalf of the Sixfold Trade Guild, I invite you to become an Honorary Elder."
He watched her silently before replying, "I don't like restraints."
"You misunderstand," Selene explained quickly. "An Honorary Elder isn't bound by the Guild's rules but can access all its resources. You'd only need to assist in times of true crisis."
Her voice was gentle, yet carried a calculated charm.
Eren thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm not interested."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Selene's eyes, but she smiled again. "Then we won't press. The Sixfold Trade Guild's doors are always open to you."
She paused, then asked softly, "Sir... are you the Masked Martial Artist?"
Eren smiled faintly. "What if I am?"
Selene nodded slightly. "That is enough."
She turned and instructed, "Please escort these two to the VIP lounge. The auction... is about to begin."
Soon, Eren was led into the most exclusive "Imperial VIP room." It glittered with gold and jade, fit for royalty.
Darius gasped. "TheImperial VIP room— the legendary top-tier booth!"
Selene smiled. "For someone of Mr. Eren's stature, it is only fitting."
With a bow, she departed.
Outside, the hall filled with a solemn crowd—
An auction shrouded in hidden currents was about to begin.