The Violet Gold Pavilion at night was a beacon of excess. Lanterns made of glowing spirit stones hung from the eaves, turning the night into day. Carriages drawn by Unicorn-Horses lined the streets, delivering the wealthiest merchants, clan leaders, and city officials to the monthly Grand Auction.
Kaelen walked up the red carpet. He wore a midnight-blue robe embroidered with silver threads—a gift from Jiara. He looked nothing like the "beggar" from yesterday. He looked like a young noble who owned the night.
Uncle Hwan walked beside him, looking nervous in his new silk clothes. He kept checking if his shoes were dirty, afraid to step on the expensive carpet.
"Heads up, Uncle," Kaelen whispered, his voice calm amidst the chaos. "If you look down, you will only see feet. If you look up, you will see the sky."
As they reached the entrance, a commotion occurred ahead.
"Move aside! The Silver-Iron Clan has arrived!"
A group of guards pushed the crowd apart. Walking in the center was the First Elder, dressed in grand golden robes. Beside him was Garret, looking arrogant as always, and Elara, looking stunning in a white dress but with eyes that seemed lost.
The crowd parted respectfully. The Silver-Iron Clan was one of the three major powers in Mist City.
The First Elder spotted Kaelen immediately. His eyes narrowed into slits of venom.
"You," the First Elder stopped, blocking Kaelen's path. "You have the audacity to show your face here? After crippling my guard captain?"
The air grew tense. People whispered. "That's Kaelen? The cripple? He looks... different."
Kaelen stopped. He didn't bow. He didn't cringe.
"The auction house is open to all who have gold," Kaelen said, his voice smooth. "Or does the Silver-Iron Clan own the pavement now?"
Garret stepped forward, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "Watch your tongue, trash. You might have used a trick to beat Draven, but in here, power is measured in spirit stones. Do you even have a single coin to enter?"
Elara looked at Kaelen. She wanted to say something, to warn him to leave, but the words stuck in her throat. Kaelen's eyes swept over her without stopping—as if she were part of the scenery. That indifference hurt her more than hatred.
"Money?" Kaelen smiled. It was a terrifyingly polite smile.
He turned to the reception lady standing at the door.
"Room 1. Sky Box."
The crowd gasped.
The Sky Box was the most exclusive VIP room. It was reserved only for the Pavilion Lord or guests of extreme importance. Even the City Lord usually sat in Room 2.
"Hahaha!" The First Elder laughed loudly. "Room 1? Have you gone mad? Boy, stop embarrassing the family. You can't even afford a seat in the lobby!"
The reception lady looked at Kaelen, then at the Violet Lotus Token he quietly flashed in his palm.
Her face changed instantly. She bowed deeply—a bow usually reserved for royalty.
"Right this way, Master Kaelen. Miss Jiara has prepared the finest tea for you."
Silence.
Absolute, crushing silence.
The First Elder's laugh died in his throat. Garret's mouth hung open.
Kaelen stepped past them. As he passed the First Elder, he leaned in slightly.
"Save your money, Elder," Kaelen whispered, his voice cold like a grave. "You will need it to buy a very expensive coffin for your son soon."
He walked away, leading a stunned Uncle Hwan up the golden staircase, leaving the "powerful" Silver-Iron Clan standing in the dust of his shadow.
...
The Sky Box.
The view from here was magnificent. The entire auction hall was visible below, like a chessboard.
Uncle Hwan sat on a plush leather chair, trembling. "Young Master... Room 1? How much does this cost? We will go bankrupt!"
"It costs nothing, Uncle," Kaelen poured tea. "When you are strong, people pay you to sit here."
Below, the auction began.
A beautiful auctioneer took the stage. Items were brought out—swords, pills, rare beast eggs. The crowd shouted bids, fighting over scraps.
Kaelen watched with bored eyes. To a former God Emperor, these "treasures" were trash.
"Item number 9," the auctioneer announced. "A Black-Iron Sword. Forged by Master Lee. Sharp enough to cut iron!"
"500 coins!" Garret shouted from the box below, wanting to show off.
"600!" someone else shouted.
"1000!" Garret roared. He won the sword. He looked up at Kaelen's box, smirking, waving the sword as if to say, 'I have money.'
Kaelen didn't even look at him. He was peeling a grape for Uncle Hwan.
"Ignore the clown, Uncle. Eat the grape."
Then, the atmosphere changed.
Two guards brought out a tray covered in red silk.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the auctioneer's voice lowered. "The next item is... mysterious. It was found by a fisherman on the shores of the Endless Sea."
She pulled the silk away.
It was a piece of tattered, yellowed parchment. It looked like garbage. But faintly, under the crystal lights, one could see jagged lines drawn in blood-red ink.
"This is a fragment of the Sea Demon's Map," the auctioneer explained. "We don't know where it leads. But the material is indestructible. Fire cannot burn it. Water cannot rot it."
"Starting bid: 100 Spirit Stones."
The crowd was silent. No one wanted to spend money on a useless piece of paper.
"100," a voice called out lazily.
It was Kaelen.
The First Elder looked up. 'The boy wants it? If he wants it, I must stop him.'
"200!" The First Elder shouted.
Kaelen didn't hesitate. "500."
"600!" The First Elder sneered. "I have the clan's treasury, boy. You cannot outbid me."
"1000," Kaelen said calmly.
The crowd buzzed. 1000 Spirit Stones for a piece of paper? That was a fortune!
The First Elder hesitated. 1000 was a lot. But he couldn't lose face to Kaelen.
"1500!" The Elder roared, his face turning red. "Come on! Keep bidding! I will bankrupt you!"
Kaelen fell silent.
He tapped his finger on the table. Tap. Tap. Tap.
He looked at the map. With his Dragon Eyes, he saw what no one else saw. The red lines weren't ink. They were Dragon Blood Seals. This map didn't lead to a treasure; it led to a prison.
'Mother...' Kaelen thought.
"2000," Kaelen said.
"3000!" The First Elder screamed. He was insane now. He just wanted to crush Kaelen.
Kaelen smiled. He pressed a button on the table that amplified his voice.
"3000 stones," Kaelen's voice echoed through the hall. "That is the entire operational budget of the Silver-Iron Clan for three months. Elder, are you using the clan's money to buy a piece of waste paper just to spite me?"
The crowd murmured.
"He's right. That's irresponsible."
"Is the Elder stealing public funds?"
The First Elder froze. He realized the trap. If he bought it for 3000, the other Elders would investigate him. If he backed down, he lost face.
Kaelen leaned into the microphone again.
" actually... you can have it. I just wanted to see if you were stupid enough to bid that high. Congratulations, First Elder. You bought... trash."
Kaelen withdrew his bid.
"You—!" The First Elder clutched his chest, nearly vomiting blood. He had won, but he had lost everything. He had spent a fortune on a useless map, and everyone was laughing at him.
But then, something strange happened.
"Wait," Kaelen said suddenly. "I changed my mind. I feel pity for you. I will buy it from you... for 3001 stones."
"SOLD!" The auctioneer slammed the hammer down before the Elder could react.
The First Elder sat down, confused. 'He played me? Or did he really want it?'
Up in the Sky Box, Kaelen breathed a sigh of relief. It was a risky psychological play. He had to make the Elder think the map was trash, then buy it at the last second so the Elder wouldn't fight harder.
A servant brought the map to the box.
Kaelen took the parchment. As his fingers touched the Dragon Blood lines, a jolt of electricity ran through his soul.
A voice—faint and distant—echoed in his mind.
"...North... The Black Whirlpool... Kaelen..."
It was his mother's voice.
Kaelen's hand trembled. He hid the map in his robe instantly.
"Young Master?" Hwan asked. "Are you okay? You look pale."
"I am fine, Uncle," Kaelen said, his voice tight. "We have what we came for."
He stood up to leave.
Suddenly, the door to their box opened.
Jiara stepped in. She wasn't smiling. She looked serious.
"You need to leave through the back exit," she whispered. "Now."
"Why?"
"Because," Jiara pointed to the window.
Outside the auction house, in the dark shadows of the street, dozens of figures were moving. They didn't have the aura of city guards. They had the aura of killers.
"The Shadow Blade Mercenaries," Jiara said grimly. "The First Elder hired them. He doesn't intend to let you walk home with that map. He intends to kill you and loot your corpse."
Kaelen looked out the window. He saw the gleam of daggers in the moonlight.
Uncle Hwan was shaking. "We are trapped!"
Kaelen turned to Jiara. "Can the Pavilion protect us?"
"Inside the building, yes," Jiara said. "But we cannot escort you home. We are merchants, not bodyguards. If we interfere in a clan war, we lose our neutrality."
It was a cold, hard truth. Business was business.
Kaelen looked at Hwan. The old man was terrified.
Kaelen closed his eyes for a second, then opened them. The vertical dragon pupils appeared again.
"Uncle," Kaelen said softly. "Do you trust me?"
Hwan looked at the boy he had raised. "With my life."
"Then hold on tight to my arm. And do not close your eyes."
Kaelen turned to the window. He didn't head for the back exit.
He kicked the window open.
Crash!
Glass shattered, raining down onto the street below.
The crowd outside looked up in shock. The assassins hiding in the shadows froze.
Kaelen stood on the window ledge, the night wind blowing his robes. He looked down at the assassins, at the First Elder waiting in his carriage, and at the moon.
"You want my life?" Kaelen shouted, his voice rolling like thunder. "Then come and take it! Tonight, the streets of Mist City will be washed in blood!"
He grabbed Hwan and jumped.
Not away from the danger.
But straight into the heart of it.