Luthier seethed at the mockery playing across Yun Jin’s face—but he wasn’t a fool. Immature, yes. Prideful, certainly. But even through his humiliation, he could admit one thing: Yun Jin had offered him a fair price. That, at least, deserved a sliver of respect.
After a long moment, Luthier gave a short nod. He passed the Elixir of Life to Serra, who in turn brought it to Yun Jin.
Yun Jin retrieved his card and looked at Henrik. “How do I transfer the gold?”
Henrik chuckled and walked him through the process. A light tap of their cards together, a flick of a rune, and the transaction was complete.
“Five hundred thousand, as promised,” Yun Jin said, accepting the Elixir of Life from Serra with a brief nod. She bowed in return, before turning silently to return to her master’s side.
Luthier remained silent. He took back his bidder's card, his jaw tight and eyes burning—not with shame, but with a resolve hardened by desperation. Without missing a beat, he raised the card high.
"Five-point-two million!"
For the first time, the cloaked figure made no counter.
“Sold!” the auctioneer announced, and the crowd murmured with surprise. The sword now had its owner.
Henrik leaned toward Yun Jin. “You could’ve bought it back for even less, you know.”
Yun Jin gave a half-smile. “Do you think I enjoy humiliating others, Mister Henrik?”
“Ah—no, of course not. But considering how Luthier treated you earlier… I figured a bit more punishment was in order.”
Yun Jin chuckled, his gaze still lingering on Luthier. “Yes, but teasing him was enough. Going further would’ve been unneeded violence, don’t you think?”
He folded his arms. “I’ve dealt with many young masters. Best option is to ignore them. Second best? Teach them something small.”
His tone shifted, thoughtful. “These people never learn that respect is earned, not given. But that also means we must earn it from them too. Otherwise, it’s hypocrisy. I was lucky to be in the right this time.”
Henrik looked at him, impressed. “That’s a wise perspective. Your master must be quite the teacher.”
Yun Jin nodded slowly. “He is. Though… I’m not sure if I’ll ever see him again. But if I do, and the chance comes, I’ll bring you along.”
“That’s enough for me,” Henrik said with a smile.
A hush fell over the room again.
All eyes turned to Luthier as he descended from the VIP platform. Mages encircled him, weaving a reinforced barrier around him. Then they extended a second barrier to bridge the distance between him and the stage—ensuring no interruption, and no destabilization.
Anesa stood by the pedestal, calm and composed. “Are you certain, Mister Veldorne?”
“Yes.”
This time, there was no arrogance in his voice. Only resolve.
From where he sat, Yun Jin blinked.
This guy…
Anesa gave him a small nod. “Then I wish you luck.” She stepped back, conjuring her own barrier before retreating behind layers of magical defense.
Yun Jin frowned and leaned toward Henrik. “Even she needs a barrier? Isn’t the stage warded well enough?”
Henrik’s expression turned serious. “The blade may be a ten percent replica… but the other ninety percent is still a mystery. These weapons are tied to forces we don’t fully understand. The sword may respond to its wielder—or reject them.”
Yun Jin’s gaze flicked back to Luthier.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Henrik continued, “If you’re lucky, the sword will just push you away. If not… possession isn’t unheard of.”
The entire hall held its breath as Luthier reached forward.
And placed his hand upon the hilt.
Yun Jin’s curiosity burned as the process unfolded.
Activating [Mana Eyes], his vision adjusted—peeling back layers of arcane energy that shrouded the stage. He saw the dense weave of mana forming the barriers, warding off interference. But with added focus, he glimpsed something deeper: the sword’s internal energy interacting with Luthier’s aura.
Something was wrong.
A distinct, alien current within the blade began to stir. It seeped outward, latching onto Luthier’s flow like a parasite. At the same moment, blood trickled from Luthier’s nose. Anesa raised her hand, ready to intervene, but Luthier roared out, “Don’t!”
Foolish.
The ominous energy surged, erupting from the sword in a dark wave. The entire hall felt it—a pulse of dread that chilled the spine.
“Demonic energy!” Henrik shouted.
Luthier’s eyes turned pitch black.
With a snarl, he launched forward. Anesa barely had time to raise her barrier before it was sliced through by a single, terrifying arc of the hero sword. She stumbled back, attempting to summon wind magic, but Luthier’s advance was unrelenting.
Before the strike landed, Serra appeared in a flash, intercepting the blow. Her sword shattered upon impact, but the deflection was enough. Both she and Anesa retreated.
Black Moon Auction’s guards stormed the stage. But Luthier—possessed, blood-eyed, voice distorted—was no longer human in his movements. He tore through their formations, magic and steel useless against him. The sword absorbed the blood spilled, each drop fueling his rampage.
Anesa’s voice rang with grim authority. “Luthier Veldorne is declared fallen. All forces—kill him.”
“No—please!” Serra shouted, stepping in front of her master. “He’s still in there! Just give me a moment!”
Anesa’s jaw clenched. “You know the law. A host of demonic influence must be destroyed before the corruption spreads.”
“Please!” Serra’s voice cracked. “Master Luthier! You’re not like this! Let go of the sword! Forget the heirship—just come back!”
Luthier twitched. One eye, for a fleeting second, returned to normal.
He spoke—broken, torn, but human.
“I… remember…”
The hall froze.
Everyone knew: if they killed Luthier now, the Veldorne family would retaliate. His survival mattered more than just one life.
Serra pressed on, her voice trembling. “Please… you don’t need the sword. Just come back to me.”
Luthier’s breathing grew ragged. He looked down at the blade—and howled. Darkness flared again as he charged toward Serra, sword raised to strike her down.
She didn’t move.
Tears streamed from her eyes as she closed them, choosing memory over survival.
“That’s enough.”
A flash of light.
The sword flew from Luthier’s grip. He collapsed, unconscious, blood dripping from countless wounds.
Yun Jin stood between them, his knuckles bruised but his expression calm.
He looked down at the fallen heir, thoughts swirling.
It amplifies the wielder’s body… but drains aura faster than it can be controlled. Just like… Merlin?
Serra scrambled to Luthier’s side, shaking him.
“Master! Wake up—please!”
She looked up at Yun Jin, desperate.
“Please… your elixir—”
But Yun Jin didn’t move. He sat cross-legged beside the body, calm and practiced. He’d seen this before. He knew what to do.
With precise control of Qi, he stabilized Luthier’s frenzied aura, guiding it back into alignment. Slowly, the chaotic energy subsided.
Luthier’s expression eased. His eyes fluttered open.
“If you want to start using weapons,” Yun Jin said, “I suggest a spear. Much easier for beginners.”
Luthier looked away, ashamed. But in his mind, he remembered: the sword slipping from his grasp, Yun Jin catching it mid-swing, swatting it away like a toy. The difference in skill had been insurmountable.
“…Thank you.”
It was grudging—but sincere. He took Yun Jin’s hand.
Serra embraced him tightly, sobbing in relief.
“I’m sorry,” Luthier whispered. This time, he meant it.
Yun Jin turned to Anesa. “So… what do we do with the sword now? It’s worth a fortune, isn’t it?”
“Per auction rules, it now belongs to mister Luthier,” she replied, tone neutral.
The hall whispered in surprise.
Luthier slowly stood, eyes on the blade. “I don’t want it. Dispose of it.”
Gasps. Murmurs.
He was discarding the very item he’d spent everything to obtain.
Anesa nodded, moving forward with magic to reclaim the blade.
But before she sealed it away—
“Can I have it instead?”
All eyes turned.
Yun Jin’s gaze was calm, but sharp.
A new ripple spread through the crowd.
What… did he just say?
