Chương 70: Bidding

Four heavily muscled, bare-chested men walked out, pulling a massive cart covered in a shimmering velvet cloth. The cart was so heavy that the iron wheels carved shallow grooves into the polished wooden stage. Jack leaned forward in his plush chair on the balcony. He rested his hands on his cane, his eyes locked onto the stage. He had 200, 000 Imperial Gold coins in purchasing power sitting in his coat pocket. He felt incredibly wealthy, ready to dominate the floor.

Down below, the Silver Core auctioneer raised his hands, and a gust of magical wind snatched the velvet cloth away. A collective gasp echoed through the massive amphitheater. Resting on the cart was a corpse. But it was not a normal beast. It was a terrifying, serpentine creature easily over twenty feet long, coiled tightly upon itself. Its scales were a deep, iridescent purple that seemed to absorb the bright stage lights.

The air around the dead beast actually shimmered, distorting the light with the lingering density of its residual magic.

"Behold!" the auctioneer's magically amplified voice boomed like thunder.

"The completely intact corpse of a Peak Gold-Core Abyssal Drake! Harvested just two weeks ago from the crushing depths of the Western Ocean by the Black-Tide Mercenary Fleet! The scales can forge armor to withstand siege fire! The blood is a flawless base for longevity elixirs! And the core… the core is entirely untouched!" The crowd of merchants and minor nobles in the lower benches went absolutely wild, shouting and pointing at the massive beast. Jack's eyes widened. A Peak Gold-Core beast.

It was a monster of unimaginable power. He quickly did the math in his head. If he could somehow acquire it, even if he couldn't reanimate it due to its massive core level, he could hire someone to forge weapons and armor from those scales that would make his militia entirely invincible. But that was not important for now. Jack reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the Gold Vow-Token.

"The bidding for the Abyssal Drake will commence at one million Gold coins!" the auctioneer shouted.

"Or one hundred thousand Spirit Stones!" Jack froze. His fingers slipped off the gold token in his pocket. One million gold. And that was just the starting bid. Before Jack could even process the number, a harsh, glowing red light flashed from one of the VIP balconies across the arena.

"An Imperial Envoy from the Capital bids one million, two hundred thousand!" the auctioneer announced rapidly. A green light flashed from a higher, Platinum-tier balcony.

"An anonymous bidder matches and raises! One million, five hundred thousand!"

"Two million gold from the Royal Alchemists' Society!" The numbers skyrocketed with terrifying speed. These were not minor lords pooling their taxes. These were massive, continent-spanning organizations, mysterious foreign elites, and ancient nobility throwing unimaginable fortunes around as if it were pocket change.

"Three million!"

"Three million, five hundred thousand from the anonymous box!"

"Four million, two hundred thousand from the Royal Alchemists!"

"Sold!" the auctioneer finally roared, slamming a wooden gavel down.

"To the Royal Alchemists for four million, two hundred thousand Imperial Gold!" Jack slowly sat back in his plush chair. He let out a long, quiet breath, completely stunned. Four million, two hundred thousand gold coins. It was a number so large it entirely lost its meaning. If Jack sold every single ounce of coal in his mountain and every raw gem his skeletons had ever found, he still may not be able to afford that beast. He had walked into this amphitheater feeling like a king.

In less than two minutes, the Golden Scale Consortium had firmly reminded him that he was nothing more than a peasant who had found a shiny rock in the mud. Silas, sitting in the plush chair next to Jack, noticed the young lord's stunned silence. The Inquisitor took a slow sip of his expensive wine, a small, knowing smirk touching his lips.

"Welcome to the true continent, Lord Jack," Silas said smoothly, swirling the dark red liquid in his glass.

"The Gold Token in your pocket grants you the right to sit in this balcony. It does not make you the master of it. The true elites of this world do not deal in thousands. They deal in millions." Jack looked at the Inquisitor, his shock quickly fading, replaced by a cold, pragmatic clarity.

"It is a useful lesson, Silas," Jack replied evenly, tapping his cane against the carpeted floor.

"It is easy to become arrogant when you rule a small valley. It is good to be reminded of the size of the mountain you are climbing." Silas raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed by the boy's mental resilience. Most minor nobles would have sulked or thrown a tantrum upon realizing their own poverty. For the next two hours, the auction continued in a dizzying display of high-fantasy wealth and power. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Jack watched as items he had absolutely no use for were paraded across the stage. There was a beautifully crafted longsword that crackled with living lightning, sold to a savage-looking mercenary king for eight hundred thousand gold. There was a tiny glass vial containing a shimmering silver liquid promising to extend a mortal's lifespan by ten years, bought by a desperately coughing, elderly Duke for one point five million gold.

There were sets of enchanted armor, rare magical beast eggs, and ancient scrolls containing long-lost elemental spells. Jack did not raise his hand once. He sat patiently, ignoring the wine and the fresh fruit on the table beside him.

"You have not made a single bid, Lord Jack," Silas noted as a set of glowing emerald daggers was sold for three hundred thousand gold.

"Are you intimidated by the prices? If you see a weapon you desire, I can authorize a slight increase to your credit limit."

"I do not need lightning swords or daggers," Jack said flatly, keeping his eyes on the stage.

"I need items that can feed fifty. I am waiting for the items that are really useful to me." Finally, as the night wore on, the nature of the items on the stage began to shift. The flashy weapons and rare corpses were finished. The auctioneer moved into the minor artifacts.

"Lot forty-two!" the auctioneer shouted, as an attendant wheeled out a small velvet cushion. Resting on the cushion were two identical, simple silver rings. They did not glow, and they did not look particularly impressive.

"Twin Silver-Thread Spatial Rings!" the auctioneer announced.

"Forged by the Veiled Eye guild! These are moderate-capacity storage tools. Each ring boasts an internal void space of exactly twenty cubic feet. Perfect for moving heavy cargo or securing valuable merchant goods!" Jack leaned forward, his eyes locking onto the two silver rings. This was exactly what he needed. He didn't need a massive, million-gold spatial ring that could hold a castle. Twenty cubic feet was roughly the size of a large cargo wagon.

If he gave those rings to the miners, they could transport massive amounts of coal from the deep mine instantly, entirely eliminating the need for human wheelbarrows and backbreaking labor.

"The bidding will begin at ten thousand Gold for the pair!" the auctioneer declared. Down in the lower benches, a wealthy merchant raised a glowing wooden paddle.

"Twelve thousand!"

"Fourteen thousand!" another merchant countered.

"Twenty thousand!" The price was climbing steadily. Spatial rings, even small ones, were highly coveted by merchant companies to bypass toll roads and transport goods secretly.

"Twenty-five thousand!" shouted a fat merchant wearing excessive amounts of silk. Jack reached over to the small, magical brass plate set into the railing of his VIP balcony. It was tied directly to his Gold Vow-Token. He didn't want to get into a slow, grinding bidding war. He wanted to break the morale of the lower benches instantly. Jack pressed his hand against the brass plate. A bright, glowing light flashed from their balcony.

"Thirty-five thousand Imperial Gold!" the auctioneer's voice boomed, looking up at Jack's box.

"We have a bid of thirty-five thousand from the upper boxes!" The fat merchant in the lower benches flinched. Jumping the bid by ten thousand gold in a single move was a massive flex of financial power. The merchant looked up at the darkened VIP balcony, cursed quietly, and lowered his paddle. No common merchant wanted to enter a financial war of attrition with whoever was sitting in the Gold-tier boxes. The amphitheater went quiet.

"Thirty-five thousand going once!" the auctioneer shouted.

"Twice! Sold!" An attendant quickly removed the rings from the stage. Jack leaned back, highly satisfied. Thirty-five thousand gold was a massive debt, but he still had one hundred and sixty-five thousand left on Silas's credit line. He had secured the primary logistical upgrade for his fief.

"A ruthless bidding tactic, Lord Jack," Silas murmured, sounding slightly amused.

"You overpaid by perhaps five thousand gold by jumping the bid so aggressively, but you saved yourself ten minutes of tedious haggling." Ten minutes later, the next item Jack needed was brought to the stage. It was a heavy, square slab of dark stone, roughly the size of a large book. Carved deeply into the surface of the stone was a complex, beautiful array of geometric magical runes. The runes pulsed with a slow, steady, incredibly warm orange light.

"An Ever-Ember Formation Stone!" the auctioneer announced.

"Crafted by the masters of the Earthen Aegis! This array draws in ambient mana to produce a constant heat. It will warm a grand hall through the harshest winter without ever requiring a single piece of wood or coal!" Jack stared at the stone.

"Starting bid is twenty thousand gold!"

"Twenty-five!" a voice rang out from the lower benches.

"Thirty thousand!" Jack placed his hand on the brass plate again.

"Forty thousand!" the auctioneer boomed as Jack's balcony flashed once again. A brief silence followed, but then another light flashed from a different VIP balcony across the arena.

"Fifty thousand from the eastern boxes!" the auctioneer cried out. Jack frowned. He was up against another noble. He didn't hesitate. He pressed the plate again.

"Sixty thousand!" The opposing balcony stayed dark. Sixty thousand gold for a simple heating array was pushing the absolute limit of its actual value. The opposing noble clearly decided it wasn't worth the cost.

"Sold for sixty thousand Gold!" Jack let out a quiet breath. He had spent ninety-five thousand gold coins already. He was nearly halfway through his massive credit limit, but he had successfully secured the most vital pieces of infrastructure his fief desperately needed to survive and expand. He looked over at Karen. The maid was sitting rigidly in her chair, staring down at the massive, roaring crowd below.

"Are you alright, Karen?" Jack asked gently. Karen blinked and looked at him, forcing a small, nervous smile.

"Yes, Lord Jack. It is just… very loud." As she spoke, she reached up with her right hand and nervously adjusted the small, dark blue clip in her hair. Jack glanced at the blue clip. For a fraction of a second, his eyes lingered on it. But his mind remained clear and calm. The subtle, masterful mental block that had been placed in his brain the day before held firm.

"We are almost finished," Jack told her reassuringly.

"Just a little longer." Jack turned his attention back to the center stage. He had the rings and the runes. He knew he still needed to secure a massive amount of clear glass panes for the greenhouses, and he wanted to sign a long-term export contract for his coal. But as he had suspected, standard building glass and bulk raw coal were not flashy enough to be sold at a Grand Auction. He would have to negotiate those deals directly with the Merchant Guilds tomorrow morning, outside of this amphitheater.

Which meant he had just over one hundred thousand gold coins left on Silas's credit line, and no absolute necessities left to buy. Down on the stage, the lighting shifted. The bright, warm magical spotlights dimmed slightly, casting long, dramatic shadows across the polished wooden floor.

"Lords and Ladies," the Silver Core auctioneer said, his voice dropping to a serious, hushed tone that echoed through the quieted arena.

"We now move into the final phase of the evening. The restricted lots. The strange, the ancient, and the dangerous." Two heavily armored guards walked onto the stage. They were not pulling a cart this time. One of them was carrying a small, heavy iron lockbox. The guard set the box down on a reinforced wooden pedestal and stepped back quickly, as if he didn't want to be near it. Jack leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. The auctioneer raised his hand, and the iron lockbox snapped open.