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Blind Judgment
45 - What's Been Stolen

45 - What's Been Stolen

The entrance hall of the auction building was completely packed. So many people were waiting to get a seat, and a feeling of anxious anticipation filled the room.

I finally reached the front of the waiting line, and an attendant took my bag of money, quickly counting it by some means that I couldn’t decipher.

“635 is your total,” the man briskly told me, handing over a slip of paper. Through the conversations that had echoed throughout the room earlier, I knew it stated the money I had so a bet that exceeded the amount wouldn’t be accepted accidentally.

He handed me a bid paddle, and then I was directed to my seat. It was very close to the back of the room, as I had been in the last twenty people waiting to get in. Restrained murmurs echoed through the vast auditorium, along with the restless tapping of feet. It took about fifteen more minutes for everyone to be seated and then a few more of just waiting.

The room abruptly silenced, and measured steps of who I assumed to be the auctioneer came from the very front of the room and much lower than me, so I knew the space was structured like an amphitheater.

The bidding began in earnest. The auctioneer’s voice only stopped when a new item was brought out, but everything else was dead silent except for the whooshing of the paddles.

On my own paddle, the number was slightly raised off the wood, forming 213. So many people, and I doubted my ability to get what Matilde wanted despite the high amount of money she had given me. With this amount of bidders, there was no doubt that there would be others trying for the flower.

Twenty items in, the auctioneer finally called the Silver Sea Flower, and I sat up in my chair. He started it off at fifteen gold, stating each bid would increase the price by five gold each. Someone to the bottom right of me immediately raised it, and the next followed in a quick fashion.

“Thirty at the front, thank you. Do I have five higher?” I raised my paddle in response.

This continued for a few minutes until the flower had finally reached a hundred gold pieces. After that, the bidders decreased until there were around three of us consistently raising the bet. Myself, a woman at the front, and a gentleman somewhere to the left of me.

I felt restless as we hit a hundred fifty, clueless about the limits of the other two bidders. However, Matilde had seemed to know what she was getting me into, and I didn’t think she would set me up to fail.

On a different note, this might’ve been the last chance for her to obtain the flower, so she was attempting it underprepared. I couldn’t guess what situation would be more likely, and I hoped it was the first, for Matilde’s sake.

“We’re coming up to two hundred, will anyone raise it to two hundred?” the auctioneer continued, voice slightly tinged with exhilaration. It wasn’t his money that was being burned, after all.

I raised my paddle, wincing at the loss of money that wasn’t even mine. The woman at the front stopped bidding at that mark, and the other man raised after me.

It went back and forth, with slight pauses, as the other probably decided whether to continue bidding each time. It wasn’t my money, nor my goal, so there was no hesitation in my actions. Every time he raised by five, I followed suit.

Finally, he conceded, ending the bet at 255 gold pieces. I breathed a sigh of relief that it hadn’t gone over three hundred.

“Sold! Bidder 213 wins the Silver Sea Flower; thank you very much for your patronage,” the auctioneer announced, and then the next item was on like it had never happened.

I relaxed in my seat, my objective completed.

It took time for each item to be auctioned off, the bets rising slowly but steadily. I didn’t know how many were left, but I wanted to leave now that I’d won the flower. There wasn’t really a choice, though, as the locks had snicked closed before the event started. I assumed it was for the security of the items.

Relaxing against the seat, I let myself drift but noted when each new item was announced. The steady voice of the auctioneer was soothing in a way, and then he said something I’d never thought he would say. I tensed hard, sitting up straight.

“For item forty-six, we have one of the orbs from the legendary Trinity of Pinemire. Said to hold quite a lot of power, even one is highly sought after. Starting bid is fifty gold. Do I have any takers?”

Many people in the audience jumped to bid for the orb, and I felt my heart pound. Such an unbelievable probability of finding the last marble here, of all places. If I hadn’t believed in fate before, I would be tempted now.

In a blink of an eye, the price was raised to a hundred gold. I joined in, resolving myself to find some way to pay back Matilde. Anyways, it wasn’t originally her money in the first place, so I wondered if she’d care. Still, I’d take it as payment for almost killing me.

Pressure began slowly closing in on me as the price reached two hundred. I only had about… 380 gold left, and as the rate the cost of the orb rose, my hope slowly dwindled.

Others began to give up like before, but still, too many were continuously persistent. What plan would they have with the orb? Was it just another trinket to them?

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I couldn’t say much, as even my intentions with the marbles were unclear. I didn’t know how to use the Trinity, but something in me had fixated on them when I found the first in the lighthouse.

Three hundred. I gritted my teeth but kept raising my paddle. I would give until there was nothing left, and if even that wasn’t enough, I would take.

Three other bidders continued on alongside me, waves of determination coming from each.

“Haha! We’ve never wanted anything so bad before!” the pyromaniac laughed beside me. He was crouched in the aisle next to my end seat, looking down toward the auctioneer.

I can’t explain it, I thought.

He stood, straightening his blindingly red tie. “If you burn them all, everything would be yours,” he suggested.

That’s not plausible. We don’t know the strength of these people.

“Better find out, then,” the pyromaniac pushed, voice sly. “Looks like we won’t win this, no matter how much we crave it.” He sighed. “Nothing better than winning.”

He was right—that satisfaction from emerging victorious often threatened to consume everything else. But some things you couldn’t win, I tried to reason, as the bet passed four hundred.

The bet ended at 470 gold; so close, yet entirely out of my reach. Why would the winner be willing to pay that insane price for an orb he couldn’t even use? Unless he knew something everyone else didn’t, which I doubted, he was practically throwing his money into the ocean. Even if he did know something, using the orb was said to be impossible without the other three.

I guessed that this orb had been auctioned off countless times. Someone would win it, find it unusable, and submit it back to the auction to make their money back. Why else would it be here, if the previous owner couldn’t use it?

The rest of the auction flew by, and a burning sensation settled in my chest. The pyromaniac hummed continuously beside me, a constant pressure.

I wouldn’t give it up, not when it was within my grasp.

The auctioneer announced that the items would be moved to separate rooms, each one allocated to a participant. Room numbers matched the ones on the paddles; you just had to show proof and pay the money to collect your items.

Sixty-two. That was the number of the man who had won the orb. I’d collect the flower, then attempt something that might get me killed. But that chance was practically dismissable for me.

“It’s worth it, it’s worth it!” the pyromaniac sang. He seemed pleased at the prospect of my death, even though he would disappear along with me.

People began to filter out of the room, but I was ahead of them. I had to get the orb before the new owner took it out. If that happened, I could consider it lost.

An attendant directed me to my room, and soon a third of my money was gone, and the flower resting on soft cloth in a wooden box was put carefully into my bag.

I found a different attendant and asked for directions to room sixty-two. My bid paddle was left in room 213 so as not to unintentionally give me away. I’d suspected questions from the attendant, but she happily gave me directions.

The room with the orb was closer to the entrance, and I furiously put together a plan along the way. Inside, the only skill I could likely count on was [Spectral Soul]. Only I could see it, but I couldn’t rely on the fact that no one could sense mana being used.

I could smell it, and someone might have a skill to detect the use of mana. However, I had to take the chance, and [Spectral Soul] was my best bet.

The hall where room sixty-two was located was empty, but I couldn’t count on the fact that no one would walk down it. I ran my hand over the doors until I found the right one. Barely pausing, I woke my mana up, and the duplicate of the priest slipped through the door.

I could still see it as I walked out of the building, and it stood completely still. Focusing, I listened for anyone around. Most of the people were still in the building, with a few trickling out every second.

In a gap between the last person out and the next, I turned the corner of the building, keeping my pace steady. I made it right next to the outside wall of room sixty-two, extremely lucky that it was an outer room.

Crouching, I summoned a tiny flame to the tip of my finger, simultaneously ordering the specter to grab the orb and place it on the floor to the left of me. I then let it fade for a moment, concentrating all my mana into that small flame.

It grew denser, the flame’s edges flickering blue. Pressing it to the wall, I suppressed it so it wouldn’t spread. Slowly, I made the fire a little bigger until it was the size of my fist. I pressed my knuckles against the wall, feeling the flames begin to weaken the wood, ashes crumbling away.

I pressed in harder until the wood collapsed with a quiet crack. Then, reaching into the room, forearm scratching against the jagged splinters of wood, I twisted until a small silk bag was in my grasp.

Pulling my hand back, I opened the bag, finding the orb. It wasn’t a fake, I concluded, as that familiar power throbbed in my hand. I pocketed the final marble, then dragged my hands over the ground until I found a pebble about the same size.

Sticking it into the bag, I put it back in the room, summoning the specter to put it in the same place it found the orb. Of course, this wouldn’t deceive anyone for long, especially if they noticed the hole in the wall, but it could give me a few precious seconds.

Pack of money slung over my shoulder, the flower inside it as well, I took off. My heart thumped, and it felt like someone would run after me any second. I tried to keep my footsteps even as I blended into a larger crowd than before that had just exited the auction building.

Glad all my possessions were with me, I made my way to the sea. The docks were quiet, and the air was cool from the night that had settled while I’d been at the auction. I found my boat, barely sparing a second before I began to row.

When I could no longer hear the murmur of voices and creaking of empty boats from the shore, I relaxed, knowing Matilde would join me soon.

She didn’t take long, fulfilling her promise that she’d return when the auction started to wait for me. The water parted with a splash, and her voice immediately followed.

“Did you get it?” Matilde asked impatiently. Instead of answering, I pulled the box out of the bag and handed it to her. She opened it with a happy gasp. “Ah, thank you… thank you so much.”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult.” I nudged the bag of money with my foot. “Here’s what is left.”

Matilde laughed. “You can have it all. As you know, it wasn’t mine, to begin with.” I shrugged again, nodding, not one to refuse.

“Anyways… see anything interesting?” she asked.

A natural smile broke out on my face, straining those unused muscles. So unfamiliar, these emotions. My heart was still beating unusually fast. I dug into my pocket, pulling out the orb to show Matilde my stolen treasure.

She laughed, and the pyromaniac echoed her, the distorted harmony rippling over the calm waves.