The auction continued in a graceful, rhythmic surge of bids and counterbids, each rise and fall weaving through the grand hall like an orchestrated dance of wealth and desire. Yun Jin sat quietly beside Henrik, listening to his explanations and letting the numbers climb and descend around him like waves crashing against stone.
An Observer’s Calm
Although several items caught Yun Jin’s eye—artifacts imbued with ancient spells, potions brewed from rare ingredients, and armor that turned blades as effortlessly as water parted around steel—none of these truly moved him to bid.
He did not raise his hand. He did not react when a particularly rare ring pushed past its expected price, nor did he glance at the nobles whispering about an arcane amulet said to shield its wearer from illusions.
At last, Henrik’s soft chuckle broke the moment.
“I have to say, most people in your position would’ve placed at least one bid by now—if only for the thrill.”
Yun Jin offered a faint smirk.
“Temptation is powerful.”
His fingers drummed the seat’s armrest in a slow, thoughtful rhythm.
“I won’t lie—I want them. But when I focus on what I need, I stop wanting them.”
He nodded toward the stage, where an assistant placed the next item on a velvet stand.
“It’s a trick my master taught me.”
Henrik stroked his beard with a measured nod.
“Your master must be very wise.”
Yun Jin’s smile shifted into something more genuine.
“Yeah. He is.”
The auctioneer moved on to the following item, and Yun Jin recognized it immediately: the [Soul Stone (Rank A)] he had consigned for sale.
Carried under soft lights, the stone’s deep black surface shimmered. A hush fell across the hall as its details were announced.
“A Soul Stone? They’re getting harder to find these days.”
“I heard a recent shipment was intercepted.”
“This could fetch a high price.”
Henrik tilted his head toward Yun Jin.
“Putting the stone up was smart. Normally, a Rank A stone goes for about 200,000 gold, but with the current scarcity…”
“…The price might double.”
It did. Bids climbed at a dizzying pace—250,000, 300,000, 350,000—until the gavel came down on:
“Four hundred thousand!”
“Sold for 400,000 gold!” announced the auctioneer.
As the winning bidder stepped forward, Yun Jin tilted his head. It was the same blue-haired mage who had bought the water-elemental wand earlier:
Lirien Aetheris—the Frostflow Prodigy.
Henrik caught Yun Jin’s glance and leaned in.
“Lirien Aetheris. And her master…”
He lowered his voice,
“…is none other than Elarion Duskbane.”
Yun Jin’s fingers went still at the name. Elarion Duskbane—one of the Ten Anomalies, and dangerous even among them. Letting out a slow breath, Yun Jin reminded himself that at least, for the moment, they were neutral.
Elsewhere in the VIP section, Luthier Veldorne sat with a deliberate stiffness, his eyes no longer tracking the stage or the bidders. Even the nobles seated around him had begun to notice.
“Lucky for us he blew all his gold on that elixir.”
“Now he can’t outbid us for anything else.”
“Serves him right.”
The whispers dug under Luthier’s skin, but he forced his breathing to remain steady.
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I don’t care about these worthless trinkets.
Only one item mattered to him: the true reason he came to this auction. So long as he acquired it, he could recover his losses. And once the time was right…
I’ll make Yun Jin regret crossing me.
The auctioneer’s tone deepened, signaling the arrival of something more substantial. Two assistants carefully carried a long, ornate chest onto the stage. Even before it was opened, a tangible shift coursed through the room.
Then the lid rose, uncovering an exquisite white-and-gold robe, faintly shimmering as though woven from threads of pure light.
[Skyborn Mantle (Rank A+)]
A robe crafted from the feathers of the Northern Wind Deity. Enhances ice recovery and grants temporary flight (one minute per day).
A stunned hush descended.
“A robe from a demi-god’s feathers?”
“That’s a divine-class relic…”
“Flight magic is rare enough—this one doesn’t even cost mana!”
Henrik whistled in admiration.
“Now this… this is worth watching.”
Yun Jin watched calmly as the auctioneer announced,
“Bidding starts at 300,000 gold.”
Before anyone else could react, Luthier raised his hand.
“350,000.”
A ripple of talk spread through the crowd.
“He’s still in the game?”
“I thought he had no gold left.”
“Guess even he couldn’t resist.”
Luthier hadn’t come for this robe; that was obvious. But temptation was like a hidden pit—one step off the path, and you were snared.
Yun Jin dipped his head in acknowledgment, then lifted his own paddle.
“360,000.”
Luthier’s face tightened as he turned to glare.
“You again.”
Yun Jin smirked.
“Something wrong?”
Scoffing, Luthier straightened his robe.
“370,000.”
Without a heartbeat’s delay—
“380,000.”
The increments were small but purposeful. Luthier realized Yun Jin was methodically bleeding him dry, forcing him to spend more than he could afford.
Yet Luthier refused to bow out, raising once more:
“390,000.”
Yun Jin responded in that same level tone.
“400,000.”
And Luthier froze.
His fingers clenched around the armrest. Another bid could leave him with nothing for the item he truly needed. He had let temptation override sense, gambling on a relic he hadn’t even wanted.
His loss became clear as the auctioneer’s voice rang out:
“400,000! Going once—twice—sold to Mister Yun Jin!”
The gavel struck.
Luthier released a ragged breath, pointedly looking away. Meanwhile, Yun Jin leaned back, still wearing that quiet, maddening smirk of satisfaction.
Henrik, still chuckling, watched as Yun Jin examined the Skyborn Mantle.
“You realize that price was a steal, right?”
Yun Jin arched a brow.
“Oh?”
Henrik drummed his fingertips on the table.
“That robe could have gone for at least 600,000 gold—perhaps more, given its rarity.”
His gaze scanned the crowd.
“But your intended rival already blew her budget, and everyone else decided flight alone wasn’t worth that cost.”
Yun Jin’s eyes narrowed. Something in this scenario didn’t line up.
“…You only brought out this item for Lirien Aetheris?”
Henrik gave a hearty laugh.
“Half-correct. We hoped to lure out Elarion Duskbane, but looks like that didn’t work.”
The name hung heavily in the air. They hadn’t been after a mere profit; it was bait for a bigger fish. Yet that fish never bit.
Yun Jin shook his head in mild disbelief.
“You people play dangerous games.”
Henrik laughed harder.
“Considering your recent antics, I’d say this pales in comparison. Hahaha!”
Yun Jin leaned back in his seat.
“Fair point.”
As the auction continued, Yun Jin noticed a pattern: the true heavy-hitters in the room had barely stirred all evening. Despite a few rare items and brief flurries of bidding, the masked VIPs—those projecting real authority—remained silent.
“What’s the final rare item tonight?” he asked Henrik casually.
Henrik’s returning glance carried a hint of anticipation.
“Curious, are we?”
Yun Jin merely smiled.
“I find it strange—plenty of strong, influential figures here, but they’ve hardly moved. They haven’t contested any of the mid-tier pieces, nor did they fight for the Mantle.”
Henrik shrugged, adjusting his cuffs.
“Most of these people, impressive though they may be, don’t have wealth on the level you’re imagining. Luthier stands out among them, and if all your items sell—even at half their estimated price—you’ll surpass them all combined.”
The realization struck Yun Jin. His assets could dwarf the fortunes of everyone present.
“So, this is just a small auction, then?”
Disappointment tinged his voice. Henrik unleashed a booming laugh.
“In the grand scheme? Yes. This is like a farmer’s Tuesday market next to an emperor’s coronation. The big players aren’t here.”
Yun Jin sighed, leaning back with arms crossed.
Maybe I really do need to figure out how to make my money work for me… but how?
He pushed aside the thought for later. Because the final item of the night was about to appear, and if the rumors were true, it would eclipse everything that came before.
