Iris stood center stage, her radiant smile captivating everyone in the room.

Her honey-colored eyes gleamed as she began to explain the typical auction rules, her voice carrying effortlessly across the hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this evening’s exclusive auction. As always, we remind you of the rules. Once an item is presented, bidding will begin at the announced price. Please keep in mind that some slaves will be presented in groups—these cannot be purchased separately." She paused to let her words sink in before continuing. "Now, without further ado, let us present our first product."

At her signal, two workers wheeled out a large cage onto the stage. The cage was covered with a black cloth, adding an air of mystery.

The workers stepped back, allowing Iris to take control of the presentation.

She moved gracefully toward the covered cage, placing her hand on the cloth. "This slave comes from the uncivilized tribes beyond the northern monster range. But of course, this is no ordinary slave. He was the chieftain of his tribe."

A murmur rippled through the audience.

The mention of “uncivilized tribes” seemed to dampen the enthusiasm of many nobles. Disappointed frowns appeared on their faces as they exchanged unimpressed glances.

Noticing the shift in the room, Iris’s smile didn’t falter. Her honeyed voice continued smoothly. "But do not let that fool you. This is not just any slave. This one is special. Due to his extraordinary power, a normal slave seal wouldn’t work on him. It took the combined efforts of the Mage Tower and many sacrifices to successfully bind him."

Her hand gripped the edge of the cloth, poised to reveal the mysterious figure within. Her pacing was impeccable, holding the crowd’s attention in the palm of her hand.

"This slave," she continued, her voice rising slightly for effect, "is on another level entirely. A level five fighter."

With a dramatic tug, Iris pulled the black cloth away, revealing the slave inside the cage. Gasps echoed through the room as the figure was revealed.

He was massive—towering over the cage, his muscled body bound by heavy chains, though his eyes still burned with a fierce, untamed spirit.

The reaction from the audience was immediate. Eyes widened, jaws dropped. A level five fighter was a rarity, almost unheard of to be sold at auction.

Even Aiden couldn’t help but feel shocked. A level five fighter? That kind of power was unimaginable for most.

In the Hoyle family, which ranked just below the dukes, there were only two fighters of that level—well, now only one, and even that was enough to maintain their prestige.

A fighter of this caliber could change the entire dynamic of a noble house’s power. The sheer value of this slave was astronomical.

The hall filled with the sound of frantic whispers. Conversations erupted across the room, disbelief and excitement spilling out of everyone present.

Iris, ever in control, waited patiently with that same enchanting smile until the crowd began to calm down.

"I’m sure all of you understand the significance of this," she said, her voice dripping with charm. "A slave like this would be a headline product at the capital’s annual auction, where only the most valuable items are sold."

Her words sent ripples through the crowd again, but she continued before they could erupt once more.

"A fighter of this level can serve as a bodyguard or mercenary, bound by the seal of one of the masters from the Mage Tower. And now, for the price."

She let the moment hang in the air before delivering the blow.

"The starting price is 500,000 gold coins. Bids must increase by no less than 10,000."

A frenzy took over the room. The uproar of voices was immediate, hands flying up as nobles eagerly shouted their bids.

"530,000!" one man called out, his face flushed with excitement.

"540,000!" another voice echoed, barely letting the first bid settle.

"550,000!"

"600,000!"

The numbers soared higher and higher as the frenzy continued, each bidder trying to outdo the last.

The sheer rarity of the product had set the entire room ablaze with competition, and they weren’t holding back.

Nobles, some already wealthy beyond measure, were willing to throw fortunes at the chance to own such a powerful asset.

Aiden watched the madness unfold with a sinking feeling in his chest. His mind raced as the bids climbed higher.

A level five fighter... just one could change everything. A fighter like that would make his plans so much easier, granting him an almost unstoppable advantage.

Stolen story; please report.

Not only that, but the slave’s loyalty would be bound by the seal, ensuring complete obedience. It was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss.

But as he listened to the bids continue to rise—650,000, 700,000, 750,000—a bitter taste settled in his mouth. He couldn’t afford it.

Just the starting price alone was well beyond what he had. The cold reality sank in: he wasn’t wealthy enough. Who would’ve thought that being poor could hurt so much?

The bidding frenzy showed no signs of stopping, with numbers jumping by hundreds of thousands as nobles eagerly competed for the fighter.

Aiden could only sit back, consumed by regret. If only he had more funds. This fighter could have been mine, he thought bitterly. But instead, I’m left here, watching helplessly as someone else seizes the opportunity.

The regret gnawed at him, sharp and relentless.

If only he had more resources, more wealth. His plans would be set in motion.

But now, all he could do was drown in disappointment, cursing the fact that the base price had already exceeded his limit.

All around him, the bids continued to climb, the crowd lost in their frenzied pursuit of this once-in-a-lifetime prize.

As the bids soared past 1.5 million, the frantic voices of the nobles sitting below began to dwindle.

Only a select few could keep up as the bidding reached the upper limits of wealth, leaving the competition to the true powerhouses of the empire.

This level of pricing could only be met by the wealthiest of noble houses.

Among them was the representative of the Iron Duke from the north.

He was practically shouting his bids at this point, aggressively pushing the price higher and higher.

Meanwhile, others began discreetly contacting their patrons, desperately seeking more funds, or calculating exactly how much they could afford for this rare and valuable slave.

"2 million!"

"2.5 million!"

"3 million!" A voice rang out, and with that, the pace of the bids slowed, the crowd now reduced to hushed whispers as the competition narrowed further.

Iris, ever composed, allowed a pleased smile to dance across her lips.

The fact that the very first product of the night had reached such astronomical heights was beyond her expectations. Her honey-colored eyes sparkled as she let the tension build.

At 3.4 million, only two serious bidders remained: the representative of the Iron Duke and the representative of the Gold Duke from the east.

Both houses were incredibly powerful, though in different ways. The Iron Duke's domain lay in military might, his family renowned for their unyielding strength.

Meanwhile, the Gold Duke’s influence was rooted in wealth—his industries controlled vast swaths of the continent's economy, and he was known for his ability to generate massive amounts of capital.

"4 million!" The Iron Duke's representative barked, his voice deep and commanding, filled with the power of a seasoned warrior. He was clearly not ready to back down.

"4.5 million," came the smooth voice of the Gold Duke’s representative, quick and calculated. He was confident, each bid coming without hesitation, as though gold was as plentiful as air to him.

Their rivalry was palpable, each man eager to outdo the other. As the bids climbed higher, so did the tension between them.

“5 million,” growled the Iron Duke's man, his voice carrying a hint of restrained fury.

He glared at the unseen figure in the adjacent VIP room, angered not only by the ongoing battle but by memories of previous conflicts with the Gold Duke’s faction.

“Five million,” repeated the representative from the Gold Duke's room, his voice almost amused, “perhaps you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with? Last time you lost, just like you will tonight.”

The Iron Duke’s man’s tone was full of barely contained rage. “I’ll remind you that battles aren’t won with words, and I never lose.” His bid shot up again. “5.5 million!”

"Perhaps, but you seem to lose when it comes to matters of wealth." The Gold Duke’s representative’s voice dripped with mockery. "We all know where the real power lies."

Aiden, watching the fierce exchange from his VIP room, could only stare in amazement.

The sheer scale of wealth being thrown around so casually made him acutely aware of his own financial limitations.

The bids were astronomical, beyond anything he could hope to match. He thought back to his earlier fantasies of buying the fighter and using him to rebuild Rimevale.

I’m so far from their level, he realized with a bitter taste in his mouth. But instead of feeling crushed, a fire began to burn in him. One day, I’ll surpass them. Illegal or not, I’ll gather the wealth needed to stand above these so-called powerhouses.

The bidding war raged on, but it was clear who would win. The Gold Duke’s representative had wealth that even the Iron Duke’s man couldn’t keep up with.

“6 million,” came the final bid from the Gold Duke’s room. There was no immediate counter.

Silence hung in the air as all eyes turned toward the Iron Duke’s representative. He gritted his teeth, furious but resigned. He could go no further.

With a triumphant laugh, the representative from the Gold Duke's room broke the tension. “It appears I’ve won again,” he called out, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. It was a mocking blow, a punchline delivered with perfect precision.

Iris, seeing that the bidding had concluded, announced, “The bid is settled at 6 million gold coins, sold to the esteemed lord in VIP room 3.” Her voice carried with it an unmistakable satisfaction.

The price reached was beyond her wildest expectations, and she couldn’t have been more pleased.

A collective gasp echoed through the hall. The sheer magnitude of the price left many in awe, as they could barely imagine spending such an amount on a single slave.

But then again, the value of a level five fighter—someone who could bring unimaginable power to a noble house—justified the sum. As the old saying went, “those who have money make even more money”.

In his VIP room, the Gold Duke’s representative let out another loud, self-satisfied laugh, clearly reveling in his victory. “It seems I’ll be taking home more than just pride tonight,” he called out smugly, directed at the Iron Duke’s representative.

“Better luck next time, if you can afford it.”

The voice that responded from VIP room 4 was full of barely controlled fury. “Enjoy your fleeting victory. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.” The Iron Duke’s man was clearly enraged, though his words lacked the bite they had before.

The battle was lost, and everyone knew it.

Still, the tension between the two remained thick.

Though they couldn’t be seen, their voices alone painted a vivid picture of the power struggle between two of the most influential houses in the empire.

The Iron Duke’s representative’s voice was gravelly and strong, a tone that reflected his battle-hardened nature, while the Gold Duke’s representative spoke with the smooth confidence of a merchant who always knew he would win.

Iris, still smiling, addressed the room once more. “A clerk will approach you shortly to settle the payment, my lord. Once the auction concludes, we will transfer control of the slave’s seal directly to you.”

As the workers on stage wheeled the massive fighter away, the crowd began to settle back into their seats, though the echoes of what they had just witnessed lingered.

The first product of the night had sold for an extraordinary sum, setting the tone for what would surely be an unforgettable auction.

From his seat, Aiden leaned back, still deep in thought.

The gap between himself and these nobles was painfully clear, but it also gave him a new determination.