The magic lamps dimmed one by one until only the stage that remained bathed in a warm golden light. For a heartbeat, the entire hall seemed to inhale.
"Welcome, honored guests," the auctioneer said and his voice was smooth, "Tonight, the fortune chooses the bold. I am merely the guide but I will lead this bidding auction to my best."
He bowed with theatrical grace.
Around the circular hall, the silk sleeves shifted with glinted rings plus the perfumed air that clung heavily to velvet curtains and carved pillars.
The conversations dissolved into a soft murmur.
Every pair of eyes moved toward the stage where the opportunity was about to be dressed in velvet and sold to the highest bidder.
Baston leaned back in his chair beside Panto and Rembrant. He appeared relaxed and almost indifferent but his gaze was sharp.
The auctions were not about the items only. They were about the desire and such desire was the easiest to manipulate when wrapped in mystery.
Tonight, the mystery had been prepared in advance.
He could feel it in the lighting alone. The way the outer lamps dimmed first while the stage remained illuminated was not merely for dramatic effect. It created some kind of isolation.
Anything that was placed under that light would appear to be elevated, singular, and important. It made the audience forget the atmosphere and focus on the object.
The auctioneer was not selling the goods. He was selling the attention and such attention could be converted into the competition.
Baston briefly glanced at the nobles who were seated along the upper balcony. Unlike the merchants below who leaned forward openly, the nobles sat comfortably reclined.
They did not chase and they waited patiently. That difference alone explained the hierarchy of the status.
The first item soon arrived beneath a glass case that was carried by two attendants whose the synchronized steps felt rehearsed.
"The first item… The Necklace of Magnolia," the auctioneer announced, "An heirloom once worn by Her Majesty during the Winter Coronation."
The ruby centerpiece shimmered blood-red beneath the chandelier light. The sapphire petals framed it like the frozen tears. A quiet ripple passed through the female guests.
Baston narrowed his eyes. There was no proof offered, no certificate provided, and no witness spoken.
It was only a story but such story was stronger than the proof in a room like this. Claiming it as happened to be used by Her Majesty was already enough to evoke the desire of many women here.
He did not know the worth, but clearly, someone else knew.
[6000…]
The first bid came swiftly. It started the war and anyone could join the battle.
[6500…]
[7000…]
The numbers climbed but the tension was shallow. It was a duel of the pride rather than necessity.
A middle-aged noblewoman finally secured the necklace. Her smile was slow and deliberate. She turned her chin slightly so the defeated women could see the triumph in her eyes.
He looked away from such arrogance. The first item was the surface-level warfare. The real battle would begin later.
The auctioneer understood the pacing. After two minor antiques and a decorative sword that triggered the mild interest among some participants, he shifted his tone.
"The next item…" he said and his voice was lowered just enough to create the gravity, "It's not a jewel nor a gem nor a relic."
A murmur rippled before the auctioneer told the truth, "It is an opportunity…"
The attendants brought forth a small velvet box. When the lid was opened, a silver emblem rested within. It was a crest that was engraved with a sigil of a rising falcon that was intertwined with the laurel.
The atmosphere in the room changed.
Several merchants straightened their body, signifying that this one item wasn't a simple one. Even those who were pretending disinterest could not hide the subtle tightening of their expressions.
"This emblem grants its bearer an access to the Winter Banquet at the certain residence of noble house. You all know what that means…"
Baston noticed something interesting.
The nobles upstairs did not react. They watched and measured the surrounding reaction as if they were observing the livestock compete. Their stillness was more telling than the excitement.
One noble lifted a glass of deep crimson wine, swirling it slowly without taking his eyes off the merchants below. Another rested his chin on the gloved fingers while being mildly entertained.
They were not the participants since they were the judges.
The emblem was an opportunity for the merchants, but for the nobles, it was a bait. It was a controlled access point and a yearly test of who could afford the proximity.
Baston understood something in that moment. The emblem did not grant an entry to power. It revealed who was desperate enough to pay for it.
Panto leaned closer, "That banquet happens once a year. The invitations were limited and many merchants who could attend usually strike a jackpot. Sometimes, they could secure the trade contracts for the entire year. Sometimes… "
"Sometimes what?" Baston asked quietly.
Panto swallowed, "Sometimes, they left bankrupt..."
Baston smiled faintly. An opportunity was truly expensive but the proximity to power was priceless. All in all, it depended on their own impression.
"The bidding begins at ten thousand pounds…"
The response was explosive and it was almost in instant.
[12,000…]
[15,000…]
[20,000…]
The increments were aggressive.
The merchants who normally calculated every coin now threw money like the gamblers who had already convinced themselves that they would win. Despite the lack of shouting, the atmosphere around the room was very critical.
Rembrant soon also joined the bidding.
The mark of his numbers was steady but Baston saw the tension in his fingers. The price soared past one hundred thousand quickly and the sweat began to form along the temples. At one time, Rembrant made his final stand.
[143,000…]
There was a silence. Such numbers could hardly be rivaled by any ordinary merchant. Only a handful one who dared to compete with this high bidding. Then, a sudden mark from magic crystal broke the silence.
[150,000…]
An older merchant across the hall sent his bidding without hesitation. Rembrant exhaled slowly and he could only withdraw.
The final hammer then fell at those numbers. The applause followed but beneath it, Baston sensed something else.
There was a resentment, fear, and hope. Just for a mere few seconds, the winner and the loser could already be decided. All three emotions felt identical in this room.
The victory and the humiliation differed only by a single number on the crystal board.
The merchant who won the emblem tried to appear composed but his hands trembled slightly as he accepted the confirmation token.
The sweat lingered along his hairline. He had not merely purchased an access. He had wagered his future and everyone knew it.
The nobles upstairs did not applaud. They observed him carefully as if they were memorizing his face. As the attendants removed the emblem, the auctioneer allowed the air to settle before smiling again.
The battle continued and the duel of wealth was starting again. The numbers were increasing until slowly, it reached the pinnacle part.
"And now… Our final item…"
The tone shifted. It was softer now and more intimate. Even the chandeliers dimmed slightly, following the announcement from the auctioneer.
Baston's pulse steadied. He knew what the last item meant since it came from him. After all, it belonged to him at the beginning. More precisely, it belonged to Zeverius Academy before it was handed as a gift.
The ice bead was carried forward within a new presentation case.
The pattern of dark velvet and silver trim inside a glass dome caught the light perfectly. It did not look like the bead that he had handed over earlier. It looked legendary at the moment.
The transformation unsettled him.
When he had first held the bead, it had felt simple. It was compact, condensed, and cold. Now, under the curated lighting and velvet framing, it appeared ancient, powerful, and almost sentient. It was a reminder that the perception could amplify the value more effectively than the truth.
He suspected the auction house had infused the case with a minor illusion magic. It was nothing strong enough to fabricate the power but it was enough to accentuate the presence.
The faint mist curled inside the glass. The frost traced the delicate patterns along the inner surface as if the winter itself were breathing. Several whispers soon erupted.
"It's indeed a genuine elemental condensation…"
"It feels cold even from here…"
"An ice artifact?"
The auctioneer did not rush and he let everyone admired the ice bead. Some people might know how precious it was while the others still contemplated how to use it.
"This is an Ice Bead… It's rumored to contain the condensed elemental affinity."
The auctioneer let the words sink, "The records suggest that prolonged exposure will enhance one's sensitivity to the ice element."
The words of suggested, rumored, and enhanced seemed to tickle the people's curiosity. Even though it didn't guarantee, the carefully crafted ambiguity seemingly increased the successful chance.
Baston admired the man. He never lied directly since he only implied the possibility.
"The starting bid is fifty thousand pounds…"
It was all silence, and then, the first bidding soon happened.
[150,000…]
It was a marked price from the above. The jump was truly bold, signifying their strength.
The sound of the number that was appearing on the crystal board echoed sharper than usual as though the mana inscription itself carried their intention.
Several merchants instinctively leaned back.
No one below would escalate the number violently unless it was driven by impulse. But for this number, it was surely calculated.
Baston shifted slightly in his seat.
The first bidder did not hesitate which meant the person had already intended to acquire the bead. Such increase was very sharp, clear, and unapologetic to the others.
The entire hall turned toward the upper balconies which was the VIP section. The private booths were shielded by sheer curtains, only showing the visible silhouettes.
"Who is that?" Panto whispered.
Rembrant shook his head slightly.
The auctioneer did not falter, announcing the number with great expression. His happy smile was controlled though it appeared he was quite elated at the moment.
"150,000 pounds… Do anyone want to bid higher?"
[160,000…]
Another bidding suddenly came up from another VIP booth. The first one who had bidden first was deeply amused.
[300,000…]
It soon followed with the price, doubling it to the point that people looked unbelievable.
There were audible gasps, followed by the murmurs. Baston's eyes narrowed. This was not the natural increase since it was more to personal issue.
The laughter that followed confirmed it.
The robust male voice did not sound surprised. He sounded entertained as if he had expected the opponent to act exactly this way. Such scene meant the rivalry did not begin tonight. It had history in the past.
Perhaps, it was not over this artifact but it was over something similar. Both of them surely had the same influence, prestige, and dominance in the same social circle.
A robust male voice chuckled, "Someone seems eager tonight to obtain such item."
"Some items deserve such decisiveness," the woman replied coolly.
There was a pause before the bidding continued. The man seemingly contemplated something before a number was forwarded to the board.
[310,000…]
[400,000…]
The speed of her counter was immediate. The hall had fallen into absolute silence. Even those who had initially intended to bid withdrew entirely.
No one below could compete with such reckless increments. But still, Baston's attention shifted. He wasn't watching the numbers since he was looking for their reactions.
"410,000…" the male voice continued to be playful.
A faint laugh followed, "Are you certain you wish to proceed?"
The man did not answer, leaving the woman alone in the conversation. Even though so, she never gave up.
The bidding which only needed a mark to spread number through magic crystal turned into something direct. It seemed like such operation couldn't be used anymore.
They rather spoke with their tongue, giving pressure to the opponent.
"500,000..."
The woman's voice sharpened and the temperature in the hall seemed to drop.
Perhaps, it was just an imagination but Baston felt something else. It was mana, stirring faintly in the surrounding. The flow was subtle like a frost that was creeping beneath a door.
He forced his breathing to remain steady.
The battle between two people seemingly caught everyone in the quagmire. No one dared to openly leave the room. Everyone was afraid once they disturbed the flow, the unfortunate moments would fall on them.
The robust man laughed openly though there was less amusement in it than before, "Five hundred thousand… It's such remarkable number… I wonder if your resolve matches your pride."
"You are free to test it..."
Her reply was calm, too calm to ignore. The exchange no longer sounded like the rivalry for entertainment. It felt measured and controlled as if each word carried the weight beyond the hall.
They were not just competing. They were observing and testing the limit of each other. The tension between the two nobles was unmistakable.
It should be rivalry for sure but there was also the calculation. Neither of them sounded reckless and neither of them sounded emotional. They sounded as though they were confirming something.
Baston's thoughts aligned sharply.
The two nobles were clashing publicly over an ice artifact yet neither seemed concerned about the price which meant the bead was not merely being important anymore.
It was being evaluated, taking a measure over what would happen next.
And for the first time that night, he felt a chill that had nothing to do with ice.