The thunderous applause from the assembled crowd lasted for a significant amount of time, vibrating through the glass of my private viewing room. Savir Loran stood in the center of the stage, a genuine and practiced smile on his face as he waited for the enthusiasm to ebb. He possessed a seasoned patience, allowing the high-energy atmosphere to settle just enough so that his next words would carry the maximum impact. Once the last of the clapping had finally ceased, Savir gave a subtle nod to the elegantly dressed lady standing behind him. She returned the gesture with a graceful dip of her head, signaling the start of the proceedings.

  Two staff members emerged from the wings, carefully wheeling out a display cart. Savir and the lady took their positions on either side of the cart, which was draped in a pristine white silk cover. With another sharp nod from Savir, the two men bowed low and retreated behind the velvet curtains of the stage, leaving the mystery of the first item to the announcer.

  “Esteemed guests, I present to you today’s very first auctioned item. Since we are just getting started and the night is young, we shall begin with a simple, yet highly essential commodity...”

  Savir’s voice was melodic and enticing as he gestured toward the covered cart. On his cue, the lady grasped the edge of the silk and pulled it away in one smooth motion. Revealed beneath was a polished wooden box containing ten small glass vials. Each bottle was filled with a vibrant, translucent red liquid that glowed faintly under the stage lights. Even from my elevated vantage point, I recognized them instantly: high-level HP potions.

  “Here, we represent a collection of high-level HP potions—ten of them offered as a single lot. As most of you are aware, procuring a single high-level potion is a simple enough task for anyone with the coin. However, finding them in such a significant bulk is an entirely different matter. Inventory is often limited, and sourcing this many at once usually requires extensive orders and long waiting periods. Today, we are focusing on immediate accessibility. The starting bid for this lot is 50 Hazaroth gold coins.”

  Savir’s description was accurate. In the standard markets of Yargan, a single high-level HP potion typically retails for about 10 gold coins. They are common enough that most high-end alchemists carry them, but because the ingredients are expensive and the brewing process is delicate, they rarely keep a large stock. Even the most successful stores might only have five on hand at any given time. For an adventurer or a noble’s guard, buying in bulk usually means traveling to multiple shops or placing a commission weeks in advance. Using this convenience to hook the crowd’s attention was a clever tactical move by the auction house. No one expected a world-shaking artifact for the opening bid, but everyone respected the value of refined survival tools.

  “60 Hazaroth gold coins!” a voice shouted from the floor.

  “65 gold coins!” another countered almost immediately.

  “70!” “80!” “90!”

  The numbers climbed rapidly as the competitive spirit of the room began to flare.

  “90 gold coins is the current high bid! Do I hear anyone willing to go higher for this immediate stockpile?” Savir called out, his eyes scanning the various sections of the floor.

  “95!” “100!” “110!”

  “We have 110! Is there any further interest? No? Sold to the gentleman in the front for 110 Hazaroth gold coins! Congratulations, sir, and thank you for your opening purchase.”

  Savir spoke with a tone of infectious happiness. The lot had sold for ten gold coins more than its standard market value. While bulk buying theoretically offers advantages, auctions of this caliber aren't about finding bargains. They are about prestige, the thrill of possession, and the display of wealth. With so many influential figures gathered in one room, no one wanted to appear stingy or hesitant before their peers.

  As the evening progressed, the auction continued at a steady, rhythmic pace. A wide variety of items were brought forth, each one sparking a new round of intense competition. The curators had done an excellent job of ensuring that even similar items had distinct specialties to appeal to different tastes.

  For instance, one spear featured an incredibly tapered and durable tip designed specifically for high-penetration stabbing maneuvers, while a subsequent spear was weighted with broader, razor-sharp edges suitable for wide-area sweeping attacks and long-range harassment. I kept a close eye on several pieces of equipment that caught my interest, but I eventually decided to forfeit the bidding as the prices began to escalate beyond my comfort zone for standard upgrades.

  The common thread among the items that saw the most aggressive bidding was the maker’s mark. A specific, famous master blacksmith had crafted several of the weapons featured in the mid-tier lots. My primary reason for wanting them was technical: every piece of his work that I inspected had exactly three empty skill crystal sockets. Not every item sold under his brand shared this high capacity, but the specific ones he had selected for this auction were top-tier. Regardless of the sockets, anything bearing his name brand was sold for significantly more than equipment made of identical materials by lesser smiths. It appeared that the more competent delvers and collectors were aware that skill crystal enchantment capacity was directly tied to the fundamental quality of the base equipment. Or, perhaps, they were simply buying for the brand's prestige.

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  I was surprised by the sheer diversity of the goods on display. Some were so unique that I hadn't even realized they existed in this world. One particularly strange item was a plant used in high-level alchemy known as a mandrake. It possessed the unsettling ability to generate sound—and not just a rustle or a hum. A mandrake can emit a shriek so piercingly loud that anyone standing too close without protection could be rendered permanently deaf. Along with these exotic flora, there were various small but talented animals being sold as familiars or pets. While interesting, they didn't hold much practical value for my current goals, so I let them pass without a bid.

  As the tempo of the auction reached a fever pitch, I could feel the collective anticipation of the crowd shifting toward the final lot. Having witnessed so many rare and excellent items being introduced and sold, the whispers among the guests grew louder. People were leaning in toward one another, speculating on what the star of the show could possibly be if it managed to outshine everything we had seen thus far. The auction house had been very careful to keep the details of the final lot a secret. They had only dropped vague hints about its nature and its innovation potential, leaving the rest shrouded in mystery to create a thick atmosphere of intrigue.

  “Could you bring me some spicy snacks and a sour drink?” I asked my attendant.

  I was still gazing down at the stage, a confident smirk playing on my lips. There was a profound sense of satisfaction in knowing that the very item the entire city was waiting for—the creation that had the elite of Yargan buzzing with curiosity—was my own handiwork. It was a rare moment where I allowed myself to feel a touch of pride, bordering on arrogance.

  As we neared the end of the catalog, Savir announced the conclusion of another successful bid. He stood in the center of the stage, momentarily silent, as the staff prepared to bring out the next item.

  “Thank you,” I said, as the lady attendant placed a small tray of snacks and a condensation-beaded bottle on the stand beside my chair.

  “It is my pleasure, sir,” she replied with her customary grace, retreating slowly to the shadows of the room.

  I picked up one of the sausage-like snacks and popped it into my mouth. It was intensely spicy, the heat blossoming across my tongue instantly. I quickly grabbed the glass bottle she had prepared for me, taking a long sip of the sour, tart liquid. However, before I could even swallow, the next item was brought onto the stage, and it commanded every bit of my attention.

  “Esteemed guests, we are now entering the final phase of our evening. What we present to you now is a Bastion Long Sword, a masterwork crafted by the renowned blacksmith, Thrain Coldhammer. You have already seen how high the prices for his standard creations have reached today. However, as Master Thrain himself has indicated, this particular blade contains a significantly higher concentration of orichalcum than any other Bastion sword he has ever forged. We are expecting an unprecedented level of interest in this masterpiece. The starting bid is 500 Hazaroth gold coins.”

  The sword was wheeled out on a velvet-lined stand. Even from a distance, the craftsmanship was undeniable. It was perfectly balanced, its proportions speaking of a weapon that could be swung for hours without fatigue. The intricate embroidery and engravings along the crossguard gave it the regal air of a ceremonial blade, yet there was a lethality in its profile that suggested it belonged on a battlefield. What was most striking was its color—a deep, lustrous azure that seemed to catch and hold the light, looking as though it had been forged from the sky itself using the highest-quality pigments and ores.

  The aesthetics were impressive, but they weren't the reason I leaned forward in my seat. As soon as I laid eyes on the azure steel, I activated Identify. My eyes widened as the system information manifested in my mind. The sword possessed four empty skill sockets.

  “520 Hazaroth gold coins!” a bidder shouted immediately.

  “550 gold coins!”

  “600 gold coins!”

  The price began to escalate at an exponential rate. It was a predictable reaction; if Thrain’s standard work was already selling for a premium, a one-of-a-kind azure Bastion sword was going to be fought over by every serious warrior and collector in the Union.

  “650!” “700!” “720!” “800!”

  “900!” “950!” “1000!” “1020!”

  “1100!” “1150!” “1200!”

  The auction hall had gone completely insane. The shouting was constant, and the number of active participants didn't seem to be decreasing even as the price surpassed the thousand-gold mark. I felt a desperate urge to own that blade; a four-socket weapon was a game-changer for someone with my enchanting abilities. However, I began to have a nagging doubt. Would my current reserves of 25 platinum coins and my 150 gold coins be enough to secure the win in a room this hungry?

  “Can I ask you something?” I said, turning my head slightly to address the attendant while keeping my eyes fixed on the azure blade.

  “Of course, sir. Is there something bothering you?” she asked, stepping forward immediately.

  “I am the owner of one of the items to be sold later in today’s auction. If my current liquid balance proves insufficient to win a bid on a current item, is it possible to have the difference encashed against the expected proceeds from my own sale?”

  I wanted to know exactly how much flexibility I had before the numbers got even higher.

  “Yes, sir. That is a standard courtesy we provide for our high-tier consignors. You may certainly use your expected earnings as credit,” she replied simply.

  “Excellent. Thank you,” I said.

  “It is my pleasure, sir,” she said, retreating once more.

  While I wasn't certain that the bid would actually exceed my 2,650 gold-equivalent total, I wanted to be absolutely sure of my standing before the heat of the moment took over. As we spoke, the pace of the bidding had finally started to slow, though the numbers were still climbing.

  “1450!” “1470!” “1500!”

  One by one, the bidders on the floor were forfeiting, their hands dropping as the cost became too much to bear. The remaining few were now increasing their offers by smaller and smaller increments, signaling that they were approaching their absolute financial thresholds.

  “I want to make a bid,” I said, my voice quiet but firm, without once looking away from the stage.

  [Edited]

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