Chapter 158: Untitled
Inside the grand theater hall, cloaked in layered darkness and a faint gothic glow, nearly a hundred and fifty figures sat in orderly rows and columns. Shadows clung to velvet seats and towering arches, while murmurs rippled softly through the space. Anticipation hung thick in the air, sharp enough to taste.
"Sir, would you consider selling your seat number for an esteed gentleman?" Auction officials leaned in close, whispering into waiting ears with careful smiles. Beyond the sealed walls, the city churned in chaos as countless powers clawed for entry, each desperate to gain even a foothold inside.
"No thank you, and fuck off."The brutish man didn’t even glance up as he spat the words, his voice low but firm. Who but a beggar would accept such an insultingly veiled bribe. Simply witnessing these interactions was enough to make most people wealthy beyond reason.
Information was currency here.Knowing who acquired what, and at what price, could shift entire power structures overnight.
That was the truth of it. Despite the auction house’s precautions, many present had co not to bid, but to observe. Eyes tracked movents, ears caught whispers, minds catalogued treasures long before they ever touched a hand.
"I see."The official withdrew smoothly, mask never cracking, and turned toward the next potential target.
"They should get this started already. I’m getting bored of this whole thing," Zeke muttered. His tone was careless, but his eyes told a different story. The pressure pressing in from all sides, the sense of being encircled, was intoxicating.
"It’s starting."Enzo felt it too. His senses brushed against towering existences seated high above, concealed within the main booths. At least three True Divine presences had arrived. Gods, watching silently.
A hush swept the hall.
"Ladies and gentlen, welco to the... uhh, weekly auction. Hehe."The announcer stood center stage, bathed in dim light. The smile on his face was crooked, forced, and carried sothing uneasy beneath it.
Weekly auctions were usually quiet affairs. Sparse crowds, modest stakes.Only the annual auction ever drew attention like this.
Today was different.Today there were gods
""For our first items, alloys."The announcer’s voice rang out as he swept his arm wide, almost theatrical. "Forged from the Chained Mountain Worlds, tempered under several millennia of relentless solar radiation. You will find nothing like this anywhere else. Each gram starts at two hundred frozen gems."
The mont his words settled, the hall stirred.Bidding flared to life, sharp and imdiate.
The Chained Mountains were a galactic anomaly. Vast clusters of jagged stone drifted through deep space, bound together by unseen forces. No atmosphere. No shielding. No rcy. A place utterly hostile to life.
And yet, it possessed sothing the universe craved.Minerals so rare they warped conventional tallurgy, altered resonance, and held energy far beyond common alloys.
Reaching them was another matter.Even star weavers risked death just lingering on those rocks long enough to extract anything of worth.
Their price, outside an auction, was obscene.Here, however, value bent to competition. The final cost depended solely on how fiercely bidders were willing to clash.
"You’re not bidding?"Enzo glanced sideways at Titus, the lack of movent catching his attention.
"I don’t play with radioactive materials. Master Black hates them." Titus shook his head without a second thought. Those alloys were not worth the danger, nor the fortune required to secure them.
Better to wait.Better to watch.
And so the auction flowed on.
More materials followed, each rarer than the last. Hamrs rose and fell in unseen futures as blacksmiths secured their prizes, one by one. The first section passed in a steady rhythm of voices and numbers.
Until the announcer paused.
"Crystalline snow wafers"
Suddenly, the room fell into an unnatural silence.Bodies sank deeper into their seats, eyes dulling as if interest itself had drained from the hall. No excitent. No hunger. Just a heavy, collective indifference.
This was a resource tied to the Snowfall family.
It was elven made.
Anything even remotely connected to that lineage was absurdly expensive, guarded by tradition, contracts, and blood. Items like this rarely left their vaults, and when they did, entire factions moved to secure them.
"Four hundred frozen stones."The announcer spoke without hesitation.
For a brief mont, no one reacted.The number seed to hang in the air, unreal, as if the hall itself was struggling to process what had just been said.
Four hundred was an outrageous sum for sothing so small.Yet for these wafers, it was criminally cheap. Almost suspiciously so.
"Four hundred going."
Only one hand rose.
The rest of the audience remained frozen, minds locked between disbelief and hesitation. That pause, that single heartbeat of doubt, was all it took.
Fortunately, it was exactly what Titus needed.
"Sold, to the bald man in white."The announcer pointed directly at him, his voice lacking enthusiasm. No bidding war. No drama. Just a clean sale.
Perhaps they thought it was fake.Perhaps they assud there was a flaw.
Whatever the reason, it was only after the transaction concluded that the crowd finally woke up.
"Four hundred frozen gems? That’s too little. I don’t mind selling a limb for that, what the hell?"
"It can’t be the real thing," another voice muttered.
Whispers spread rapidly, rippling through the hall like delayed shock. Regret crept into faces as understanding set in far too late.
The winner was already decided.
Titus didn’t bother hiding it.A satisfied smile rested on his face, calm and confident.
These wafers were uncorruptible.They would never heat, never warp, no matter the weapon they were embedded in.
They were used in high tier military cannons on Gaia itself.
That alone spoke volus.This was a core component of a super world’s planetary defense system.
"Let’s continue."The announcer, pleased to finally have the room’s full attention, smiled as he brought out another box and slowly opened it.
Inside rested a pair of short swords, compact and elegant, their blades shimring with a cold blue luster. Light bent softly along their edges, leaving faint afterimages whenever they shifted, as if the weapons themselves refused to remain fully still.
"These short swords are echoes from a supre grade star seed voyage of the Tyrant rank," the announcer said, voice steady as he let the weight of those words sink in. "They possess opposing abilities. One can strike a target with absolute precision, inflicting damage without deviation. The other can restore what was destroyed, returning the target to a prior state within a fixed period of ti."
A murmur spread instantly.
Weapons born from voyages were almost always unique. They were not mass produced, not replicated, not improved upon. They were singular rewards, bound to the conditions and dangers of that specific journey.
At the Tyrant rank, such a treasure was priceless.Even within Snowfall City, it was sothing entire clans would move for.
"Bidding starts at ten thousand frozen gems."
The reaction was imdiate.
Voices clashed, numbers overlapped, and hands shot into the air without hesitation. Desire and frustration flashed openly across faces as bidders pushed higher and higher, unwilling to yield even a breath of ground. The hall pulsed with raw hunger.
As the chaos built below, far from the noise, within the exclusive booths above—
"What do you want?"A man draped in a long gray robe spoke irritably, eyes narrowing as he stared ahead.
A silhouette had appeared at the back of his booth, silent and unmoving, its presence heavy despite saying nothing at all.
"Fin, if you try to scare
once again, I’ll kill you."Old Minister Noland cursed quietly, his voice sharp despite his age.
There was no reply.
Even stranger, his guards stood stiff and alert, eyes scanning the booth as usual, completely unaware of the shadow pooling behind them. That silence made the space feel wrong, like sothing had slipped out of place.
"Hehe, it’s only a shadow, old head. Why are you so afraid?"The voice did not travel through the air. It simply appeared, seeping into the booth as if the walls themselves had spoken.
"Oh really?" Noland replied, feigning surprise. "Just a shadow? Just the shadow that killed Fanzo in his own house?"He paused, eyes glinting. "Are you admitting to sothing, dear friend?"
The effect was instant.
A sharp chill ran down Fin’s spine. The silhouette wavered, its edges dissolving as fear overrode mischief. In the next breath, it vanished completely, retreating without a trace.
The old bastard was dangerous like that.Words alone were enough to drag people into nightmares they could not escape.
Fin enjoyed stirring chaos, it was practically woven into his nature. Slipping through cracks, unsettling powerful figures, leaving whispers behind. But provoking Noland was sothing else entirely. That was not mischief or danger in the usual sense.
That was a death sentence that knew how to wait.
"Heheh, you better run."Minister Noland smiled faintly, the wrinkles on his face deepening as his gaze drifted away. There was no anger in his expression, only quiet amusent, the kind that ca from certainty.
He turned back toward the auction floor below, eyes reflecting the flashing lights and rising bids. Voices collided, numbers climbed, ambition burned openly in the hall.
None of them noticed the brief tension that had just passed above their heads. None of them realized how close the shadows had co.
The bidding continued, loud and fierce, hunger drowning out caution.
It was not yet ti for Noland to move.For now, watching was more than enough.
Reviews
All reviews (0)