As Victor stepped out of the shop, he stared at the coin in his hand, filled with mysterious power. Each side bore an engraved masked face — one smiling, the other sorrowful. This was the “Glutton’s Coin” — a cursed coin that doubled the mana of any spell, thereby doubling its potency. However, it kept track. For every use, it demanded repayment in threefold. Not now. Not soon. But when you used it again, and when you least expected it, and when you could least afford it.

  “So essentially, this is like fighting with borrowed power…” he murmured.

  He had chosen this one for a reason: While it was undoubtedly dangerous, it was calculable. With the right preparations, he could plan for the eventual cost. Of course, there was the looming threat of the debt accumulating into a fatal backlash — but as a Magus, he knew of many obscure methods to sidestep such consequences.

  For instance, he could use it exactly ten times and then seal it away. If he never gave it another use, the coin would have no opportunity to strike back.

  More importantly, it didn’t feel like a magic tool. The effect was far too potent, too reality-defying. This had to be a true magic artifact of some kind… Just who was that Magus?

  When Victor turned to look back, the shop that had been there moments ago was gone. Vanished, as if it had never existed.

  “How strange.”

  He decided not to think too much about it. Besides, he had already examined the coin with {Eyes of Space-Time} and found no strings attached — no lingering contracts, no hidden bindings in temporal threads. Since the only catch was the price it demanded, and even that was clearly outlined, he simply pocketed the coin and let it rest at the back of his mind.

  Instead, he resumed his exploration of the Magus market.

  Victor had come here for more than just browsing. He intended to sell a few valuable items he had stockpiled. Before setting out on this journey, he had asked Lillie to create a batch of voidstones. If sold, these voidstones would result in large amounts of mana crystals. Although, he wasn’t short on mana crystals at the moment.

  He picked up a few minor items along the way. Interesting magic tools that the players could reverse engineer, rare magical plants, and even some mysterious trinkets. But none of them particularly caught his eye. That was, until he stumbled upon what appeared to be an auction.

  In the heart of the market stood a dome-like building. Two stone golems guarded the entrance, each radiating the pressure of a pseudo-Elemental Adept-level Magus. A shimmering magic barrier wreathed the entryway, gently repelling those below a certain standing. It was a threshold of power, and Victor passed through without resistance.

  Inside, the atmosphere was vibrant. Velvet carpets muted every footstep, while crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen constellations. Surrounding the central platform was tiered seating that spiraled around. At the center, an elven woman dressed in formal black robes stood while presenting the auctioned items.

  Before taking his seat, Victor walked toward the reception counter tucked into the side of the hall. The receptionist was a masked woman with glowing ink inscribed across her arms — a Magus, no doubt. She glanced up as he approached.

  “I’d like to auction this,” Victor said, producing a small black case from his interspatial ring. Inside, a single purple amethyst-like crystal pulsed faintly.

  The receptionist’s fingers twitched in a silent incantation. A moment later, she nodded. “Accepted. A rare voidstone. Starting bid will be adjusted based on current demand. Other items?”

  Victor placed several more items, like potions and elixirs that Elara produced. After all, even a single voidstone alone would draw enough attention, and he didn’t want to stand out.

  “Very well. You’ll be notified once bidding begins,” she replied, flicking her fingers. Then, a glyph briefly appeared over Victor’s chest — a bidder’s mark keyed to his soul signature. “You’ve been assigned VIP room number six.”

  He gave a slight nod and made his way to the seating area, entering the designated VIP room, enchanted with a concealment barrier. Inside, there was a female servant waiting for him.

  “Please take a seat, sir,” she said, bowing politely.

  As Victor settled in, the next item was brought onto the platform: a blood-red dagger sealed in a transparent cube of reinforced crystal. The aura it gave off was volatile, violent — sharp enough to make nearby mages subtly lean back in their seats.

  Based on its mana fluctuation, it was at least a superior-grade magic tool — maybe bordering on artifact level, which was enough to cause the audience to murmur. In contrast to the chaotic auctions run for players, every guest here radiated restraint.

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  Most of the people in this place were at least at the third stage of Initiate Attunement, with a significant number being Elemental Adept Magi. Thanks to the concealment barrier on each of the VIP rooms, Victor wasn’t able to see through them, but his sharp senses picked out one individual inside a room that had its windowpane unblackened who had already formed six sigils — a feat only a step away from Nexus Temporal rank. He sat with an air of indifference, though Victor noticed the brief flicker of interest when the dagger was unveiled.

  The elf auctioneer raised a hand with a calm expression, her voice carrying through the hall with clarity.

  “Next, we present the Crimson Fang — a top-tier, superior-grade magic weapon forged during the Dark Era. Tempered in the blood of a Crimson Giant, this dagger feeds on aggression and magnifies the user’s killing intent. When wielded in battle, each successful strike increases its sharpness and penetration. However—” She paused, letting the silence settle. “—with every kill, it etches a mark upon the soul of its bearer. Once the count reaches thirteen, the weapon chooses a new master and hunts the former.”

  A few chuckles echoed in the room. It was the kind of sinister detail only Magi would find amusing — a blade that devoured loyalty as easily as life.

  “Starting bid: two hundred novice-grade mana crystals. Minimum increment: twenty.”

  Immediately, the first voices rang out.

  “Two hundred.”

  “Two-twenty.”

  “Two hundred and fifty.”

  Being one of the finest superior-grade magic weapons, the final price would surely soar. Victor watched the pacing unfold. None of the high-ranked Elemental Adept Magi inside the VIP rooms had made a move yet. Despite its curse, the dagger contained the blood essence of a Crimson Giant — the bloodline that the player ButterflyWingsAreDelicious possessed.

  Victor wasn’t lacking in magic tools. The treasury within the citadel held more than enough for him and his academy’s acolytes. What he wanted was a magic artifact. Still… if I extract the bloodline essence within, I can create another Bloodline Magus. Very well, then.

  “Fifty intermediate-grade mana crystals,” Victor said, raising a hand.

  Instantly, all the bidders went silent.

  Technically speaking, fifty intermediate-grade mana crystals were about equal to five hundred novice-grade mana crystals. However, it would be hard to find anyone willing to trade their intermediate-grade mana crystal for novice-grade ones because they were too useful, making their value higher than the supposed exchange rate.

  On top of that, now that Victor had put intermediate-grade mana crystals on the table, anyone who wanted to outbid him had to use the same mana crystals or better. It was a psychological move as much as a financial one. Would anyone waste their intermediate-grade mana crystals for something that wouldn’t boost their combat power?

  Of course not.

  Sure, the blood essence of the Crimson Giant contained within the Crimson Fang was precious. But it wasn’t concentrated enough to push someone into the ranks of a Nexus Temporal Magus. At best, it could assist a third-stage Initiate Attunement to promote to an Elemental Adept rank, but dooming their progression unless they had bloodline marrow or more blood essence of the same magical beast.

  The elf auctioneer’s eyes turned toward Victor’s room. “We have a new high bid — fifty intermediate-grade mana crystals from VIP Room Six,” she announced smoothly, not missing a beat.

  Silence followed.

  One Magus in the general seating area leaned back, exhaling through his nose in resignation. Another elderly mage, who seemed to be at the peak of the third stage of Initiate Attunement, shook his head in deep disappointment, as though losing hope.

  After a long pause, the elf smiled faintly. “No further bids? Going once… going twice… Sold. The Crimson Fang goes to VIP Room Six.”

  Victor paid the required crystals to the female servant stationed in the room. Moments later, the Crimson Fang was brought to him. Up close, the magic dagger radiated a dangerous aura — one so intense it could drive ordinary mortals mad. Even weaker acolytes or Ki-Warriors wouldn’t be safe from its corruptive influence. Victor noted that it could prove useful as a weapon of assassination if used by the right person.

  The auction continued as several more magic items were brought out. None of them, however, particularly caught Victor’s attention. He watched quietly with his arms crossed as bids rose and fell without him participating.

  It wasn’t until the category changed that something new piqued his interest — living beings.

  At first, many ordinary slaves were brought up, including humans and other intelligent creatures. Nevertheless, Victor had no need for slaves of this kind, even as guinea pigs to be experimented on. He had the immortal players, so why would he even bother?

  Then, battle slaves were being presented, and this was the main part of the show. Among them were two grotesque, transformed bipedal beasts, seemingly stitched together from parts of multiple magical creatures. They bore a resemblance to Frankenstein’s monster and radiated the combat power of Elemental Adept-level beings.

  They were likely the result of some forbidden alchemical or necromantic experimentation — crude, but effective. Such creatures could serve as powerful guardians at the academy, especially stationed at the gates or hidden within the forest as deterrents.

  Unfortunately, transporting them back to the academy would normally be a challenge. But since Victor possessed the {Space Fold} spell, he could store them within compressed spatial layers and carry them without hassle. With that, he was determined to acquire them.

  The elf auctioneer raised a hand, and the lights dimmed slightly as two creatures were dragged onto the platform, bound by glowing chains of suppression magic. One let out an ear-piercing growl that would have deafened a normal human.

  “These two specimens are Chimera-class battle slaves — or, as some prefer to call them, battle beasts,” the elf announced. “Alchemically fused from a Dire Stoneclaw, a Wyrmblood Howler, and a Crimson Boar. Strength equivalent to a mid-tier Elemental Adept Magus. Enhanced regeneration, thick hide resistant to Bet-tier spells, and a berserk state triggered when near death. They are sold in a set.”

  The audience fell silent. Even for Magi, such constructs were rare, often outlawed or controlled by tight regulations. But auctions like this operated under a different set of rules.

  “The starting bid will be one hundred intermediate-grade mana crystals, and the minimum increment is ten intermediate-grade mana crystals.”

  “One hundred,” someone called from the lower left seating area.

  “One hundred and fifteen.”

  “One-fifty.”

  “Two hundred! These two wonderful creatures are mine!” came a rasping, hoarse voice from one of the VIP rooms.

  Clearly, the two battle beasts had captured the attention of the entire auction.

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