Second Floor:
The second floor was quieter, yet more refined. The scent of rare tals mixed with faint spirit energy, creating an atmosphere heavy with pressure.
Here, each stall resembled a miniature exhibition hall. Blades with runic engravings glead under crystal lamps, armor infused with elental resistance radiated heat or frost, and rare ores shimred faintly with natural light.
“These products,” Si Long whispered , “are forged only by smiths of at least Master rank. Look there—” He pointed at a crimson spear hanging on the wall. Its shaft glowed faintly, as if blood pulsed within. “That weapon contains fire-aspected ore. With it, a Soul Master’s flas would burn at least thirty percent hotter.”
Wu ng studied it carefully. “And the price?”
“Enough to make an ordinary noble bleed dry.” Si Long laughed lightly. “But worth every coin. Everything here is battle-ready. Many Spirit Masters co seeking equipnt that can turn the tide of a fight.”
A few wealthy buyers were browsing, followed by attendants. Wu ng could see the quiet negotiations, the gleam of greed in the rchants’ eyes, and the pride on the faces of smiths who sold their masterpieces.
---
Third Floor:
The third floor had a different air altogether—serious, disciplined, filled with the sound of hamring echoing from testing chambers.
Several enclosed forging areas allowed smiths to prove their skill under the Association’s supervision. One could see apprentices nervously hamring, their foreheads beaded with sweat, as examiners stood by with sharp eyes.
“This,” Si Long explained, “is where a blacksmith’s level is determined. A smith wishing to advance must forge a piece before the Association’s judges. Only if the work ets the standards will they be promoted.”
Wu ng folded her arms. “So it’s rit-based, That’s good. No room for fraud.”
“Exactly,” Si Long agreed. His tone then dropped to a hush. “And, Sister Wu, let tell you sothing important. Across the entire continent, there are only three n who stand at the pinnacle of this craft.”
Wu ng turned his gaze to him. “Three?”
“Yes. The first is Lou Gao, our President—a Divine Craftsman whose na shakes the forging world. The second is Tang Hao, a man of unparalleled strength, who, though not officially tied to the Association, has produced divine-level works. And the last is Tai Tan, patriarch of the Strength Clan, also the Vice President of the Blacksmith Association.”
There was reverence in Si Long’s voice, his eyes glowing with admiration. “These three nas alone command respect from empires.”
Wu ng’s gaze deepened slightly. She was starting to understand why Qian Renxue had sent her here.
----
On the fourth floor was the auction area
Si Long led Wu ng through the guarded entrance towards the VIP seats. The mont he flashed his token, the guards bowed slightly and let them pass without a word. The interior was quiet, luxurious, and filled with an air of exclusivity. Soft carpets muffled footsteps, the scent of sandalwood lingered faintly, and every seat was arranged with perfect precision, facing the glittering stage.
“The best products are sold here,” Si Long explained in a low voice as he guided Wu ng toward their seats. His tone carried a touch of pride. “Sotis even items crafted by Teacher Lou Gao himself will appear.”
Wu ng’s gaze swept the surroundings. Compared to the noisy lower floors, this place was calm, yet the silence wasn’t comforting—Every person seated here had an aura of wealth and power.
At that mont, attendants in fine robes carried out the next item. A pair of heavy black-gold gauntlets rested on a velvet tray, their surface faintly glowing with tallic sharpness. The finishing on the gauntlets were food enough to compare it to a polished mirror.
“This is a work of Teacher Lou Gao,” Si Long explained softly. His eyes glead, betraying his admiration.
The host began the introduction, listing the gauntlets’ attributes, the rare materials fused within them, and how they could double a Spirit Master’s raw strength. Whispers of awe stirred in the crowd, and bids were about to begin when suddenly—
A sharp, unpleasant voice cut through the hall.
“These gauntlets are fine… I’ll take them at the original price.”
The crowd turned toward the source.
Wu ng and Si Long followed the voice with their eyes.
Seated in the center row was a man who looked out of place even among the wealthy nobles. He was middle-aged, his hair grizzled with streaks of gray, and his nose sharp and hooked like a bird of prey. His small, piercing eyes were filled with disdain, while his wide mouth twisted into a sneer. His skin was wrinkled and rough, his face resembling a dried, shriveled tangerine. Despite his plain black robes, the emblem of Spirit Hall glead at his chest.
The disdain in his expression was unmistakable. He spoke not as if making a bid, but as though declaring his ownership.
Wu ng’s pupils contracted. She knew that face, it was Bishop yers.
The branch leader of Spirit Hall in this city.
The man who, through his arrogance and corruption, had dragged Spirit Hall’s reputation through the mud here.
Wu ng lowered her gaze, hiding the icy light flickering in her eyes. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
She already knew most of the information about Bishop yers.
An arrogant fool, he used his position to crush rchants and families that refused to bow to him. He was vulgar, offensive, and greedy, treating Spirit Hall’s prestige as his personal weapon. To him, the people were ants.
‘So this is the man who stains the na of Spirit Hall…’ Wu ng thought coldly.
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