The holding cell at the Academy Security Office smelled of damp stone and regret.
Kaelen sat on the hard wooden bench, his head in his hands. He had spent the night shouting his innocence, claiming he was framed, but the evidence—his presence in the vault, his sword drawn—was damning.
The heavy iron door groaned open.
"Stand up, Kaelen," a weary voice commanded.
Kaelen looked up to see Headmaster Alaric. The old wizard looked ancient, his beard reaching his waist, his eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and urgent necessity.
"Headmaster!" Kaelen scrambled to the bars. "I didn't steal the map! It was Lucas! He was there, he used shadow magic—"
"Quiet," Alaric hissed, unlocking the cell with a wave of his hand. "The charges have been... suppressed. I have pulled every string I have with the Council to get you out."
"You... you believe me?"
"I believe that you are the Child of Prophecy," Alaric said gravely. "And right now, Prophecy cannot afford to sit in a cell. The darkness is coming, Kaelen. We lost the Map, but we cannot lose the Sunfire Amulet."
Alaric handed Kaelen a heavy pouch of gold and a black hooded cloak.
"Tonight is the Twilight Auction. The Amulet is the star lot. It is the only artifact capable of repelling the Shadow Plague that accompanies the Calamities. You must buy it."
Kaelen weighed the pouch. It was heavy.
"There are five million credits in there," Alaric whispered. "It is the Academy's entire discretionary budget for the year. Do not fail us."
Kaelen gripped the pouch, his eyes burning with renewed resolve. "I won't let you down, Headmaster. I'll secure the Amulet, no matter what."
While the Hero was playing fugitive in a hooded cloak, I was sipping espresso in my penthouse suite.
I checked my watch. 6:00 PM.
I picked up my phone and typed a message.
[To: Seraphina Frost] [Message: Be ready in 20 minutes. Wear black. We have a date.]
I hit send.
Across the campus, in the girls' dormitory, Seraphina Frost stared at her buzzing phone. Her heart skipped a beat—not out of romance, but out of a conditioned reflex to his authority.
"A date?" she whispered, looking at her wardrobe.
In the past, she would have been disgusted. She would have frozen the phone and ignored him. But now... she remembered the dungeon. She remembered the Shadow Knight. She remembered how he looked at the Instructor and made him back down.
She spent an hour fixing her hair. She chose a sleek, black evening gown that hugged her figure, accentuating her pale skin and icy blue eyes.
I'm doing this for information, she told herself in the mirror. I need to know his weakness.
But as she applied her lipstick, her hands were trembling with anticipation.
The Twilight Auction House was an underground coliseum of vice and luxury, located beneath the city's financial district.
Kaelen arrived through the side entrance, keeping his hood low, blending in with the mercenaries and rogue mages. He found a seat in the general admission area—the "peasant seats"—clutching his gold pouch like a lifeline.
Then, the main doors blew open.
Flashbulbs popped. The crowd gasped.
I walked in through the VIP entrance, the red carpet unfurling before me. I wasn't wearing a mask. I wanted everyone to know exactly who was buying their city.
I wore a midnight-blue tuxedo tailored from silk-weave that shimmered under the chandeliers. On my arm was Seraphina Frost, looking like a goddess of winter.
"He's here," someone whispered. " The Vayne Heir." "Is that Lady Frost? I thought she hated him?" "Look at them... they look like royalty."
I ignored the rabble. I led Seraphina up the spiral staircase to the Platinum Box, the highest point in the room. We sat on velvet couches, a servant immediately pouring us a vintage crimson wine.
I looked down into the pit and spotted a familiar hooded figure.
"Target acquired," I murmured.
"Who?" Seraphina asked, taking a nervous sip of wine.
"Just a little entertainment," I smiled, clinking my glass against hers.
The auction proceeded quickly. Rare swords, monster eggs, grimoires. I ignored them all.
Then, the Auctioneer—a goblin in a tuxedo—stepped onto the stage.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the main event! Recovered from the ruins of the Sun God's temple... the Sunfire Amulet!"
A golden pedestal rose from the floor. Resting on it was a ruby amulet that glowed with an intense, inner heat. It radiated pure holy energy.
"This artifact grants the wearer immunity to shadow curses and amplifies fire magic by 200%!" the goblin shouted. "Bidding starts at one million credits!"
"One million!" a merchant shouted. "Two million!" a noble countered.
In the peasant seats, Kaelen took a deep breath. He waited for the small fry to finish.
"Three million going once..."
Kaelen stood up, throwing off his hood to reveal his determined face.
"Five Million Credits!" Kaelen screamed, raising his paddle high.
The room went silent. Five million was a staggering sum for a student. It was enough to buy a small castle.
The Auctioneer blinked. "Five million... from the young man in the cloak! Do I hear—"
Kaelen looked up at the VIP box, locking eyes with me. He grinned triumphantly. You can't beat this, Lucas. This is the Academy's money. This is Justice.
I didn't even look up from my wine glass. I simply raised one finger.
"Fifty million."
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush a man.
The Auctioneer dropped his gavel. "F-fifty... million?"
The entire crowd turned to look at the balcony. Fifty million credits wasn't a bid; it was a hostile takeover. It was more money than most of the people in the room would earn in ten lifetimes.
Kaelen's face went white. The pouch of gold in his hand suddenly felt like a bag of rocks.
"Sold!" the Auctioneer shrieked before Kaelen could even process the number. "To Lord Vayne for fifty million!"
"No!" Kaelen shouted, desperate. He ran toward the stage, pointing up at me. "This is a farce! He doesn't even need it! He's an Ice and Shadow user! That amulet is for Fire Mages! Why do you want it, Vayne?"
The crowd murmured. He had a point. The affinity was wrong.
I stood up slowly, walking to the railing of the balcony. I looked down at Kaelen with the weary patience of a god addressing a bug.
"To use as a paperweight," I said, my voice amplified by the room's acoustics. "Any other questions?"
Laughter rippled through the hall. Cruel, mocking laughter.
A moment later, a servant brought the amulet to my box. It was warm to the touch, pulsing with holy light.
I didn't put it on. Instead, I turned to Seraphina.
"Here," I said, casually tossing the priceless artifact into her lap.
She caught it, fumbling slightly, her eyes wide. "Lucas? This... this cost fifty million. I can't use this. I'm an Ice Mage. It clashes with my core."
"I didn't buy it for your core, Seraphina," I said, leaning in close, brushing a stray lock of silver hair from her ear. "I bought it because the ruby matches your eyes."
Seraphina froze. Her face flushed a deep, violent crimson that matched the stone perfectly. Her heart hammered against her ribs—a mix of outrage, shock, and a thrill she couldn't suppress.
He spent a fortune... just to accessorize me?
I glanced at her through the [Eyes of Truth].
[Target: Seraphina Frost]
[Affection: +45 → +55 (Flustered / Awestruck)]
[Current Thought: "This is insane. He is insane. Why... why do I want to keep it?"]
Down below, Kaelen watched the exchange. He watched the woman he was "destined" to marry blushing at the villain who had just humiliated him.
He sank back into his seat, defeated.
"And now, for the final, clearance item," the Auctioneer announced, trying to regain momentum. "A... uh... Rusty Iron Key. Origin unknown. Bidding starts at 1,000 credits."
The crowd groaned. Nobody wanted junk.
"1,000," I said quietly.
"Sold!"
A minute later, the rusty key was in my hand. It looked worthless. But I knew better. This was the key to the Seal of the Second Calamity, an endgame raid zone.
I pocketed the key and finished my wine.
[ System Notification: Financial Domination. ]
[ Protagonist Denied Critical Resources. ]
[ Reward: +1,300 Destiny Points. ]
[ Current DP: 7,600 ]
"Come, Seraphina," I said, offering her my arm. "Let's go. The air in here is getting poor."
She hesitated for only a second before taking my arm, the fifty-million-credit paperweight clutched tightly in her hand.
We walked out, leaving the Hero in the dark.