It wasn’t long before the news reached the wealthy upper class of Oxdale. Within a few hours, roads leading to the Bank of Omnivell were crowded with fancy and splendid lines of carts. A barrier was set up in front of the gate, holding back the sets of curious eyes of the common folks, while a red carpet was readily welcoming people of high status. Such an event was nothing new here, it seemed, for its preparation and organization were smooth and troubleless.

As arranged, around 8 in the evening, everyone had already arrived at the lobby, unsurprisingly forming groups to discuss this hasty event.

“It’s been a long time since we last had such an unexpected evening, isn’t it?” Abraham said in his tidy suit, surrounded by his business partners.

“Yes,” one answered, his fingers full of sparkling ornamented rings, his hand toying with the glass of wine. “I heard it was from a strange guest who owns some incredibly rare items.”

“The bank didn’t even bother sending us any brochure,” a noticeably short man said, but he seemed to be held in high regard by the attendance.

“Wouldn’t that just make it fairer?” Abraham commented while sipping some wine.

All nodded in agreement. Knowing what items would be presented at the auction prior to it seemed like the right thing to do on paper, but it usually had the opposite effect. Individuals whose interests aligned would team up to manipulate the bidding process to achieve their goals. What ensued was usually total chaos since the interests of these alliances would turn out to be not as aligned as they had initially thought.

Around the lobby, there was also Arnold Hensley, together with his younger sister Jasmin, the mayor Marvin Humphrey and his retinue, Lena Quinn and her guild members, and the teachers of Rolerra, namely Juan Scaro and Julia, who went with their associates.

Jack was finally brought to the place by a middle-aged woman and Patricia. Everybody pretended like their eyes weren’t on him, but they all knew the man of the hour had come. Some attempted to open a conversation with Jack but were politely turned down by Patricia in accordance with Jack’s instruction. The manager led Jack through the door to the conference room, where the auction would soon take place.

As he passed by Abraham, Jack’s face under the dark hood flinched. He had forgotten to ward his father not to take part in this.

Please don’t try to get the two weapons, father, Jack prayed.

He looked around a bit for principal Meinhard Honingman. The last few days, no matter how hard he had been trying, Jack still couldn’t convince anyone to listen to his prediction about the coming of the Plague Essence disaster.

The conference room had been rearranged, allowing a stage to be set up at the back. Lines of chairs were elevated as they went further toward the other end of the room, with small stands in between them for the serving of beverages and snacks. On the wings were private rooms, reserved only for important names. The chandeliers shone the room with their shimmering golden light, just enough for the guests to see but still maintain for themself a veil of privacy.

Jack was brought to one of the special rooms. It was quite spacious, especially when he was its sole occupier, allowing him to have an overview of the place.

“If there’s something you don’t like,” the manager said, “you can ask Patricia to inform me, is that alright?”

Jack nodded without another word. The manager winked at her employee and quickly left for the other no-less important guests still waiting in the lobby.

Patricia poured out a glass of wine and brought Jack some snacks. Then, she stood to the side in a formal manner, though her anxious heart was still racing. The face full of frowns and the curses of Richard had quite an effect on her. This customer was not someone you could just chat with.

People started entering the room to find for themselves a comfortable seat. Jack observed the scene, noticing how the mayor, as well as the Artificer Guild’s master, both had their own personal areas for themself and their retinues. Additionally, there was also the Hensley who got the same treatment, solidifying their leading status. As for Abraham, he and his friends didn’t even get to sit in the front rows; instead, they settled for those in the middle.

About half an hour later, the room finally looked substantially filled besides a few empty spots here and there, reserved for private groups. Then, a middle-aged man walked up the stage in a smooth and fancy suit, holding a small notebook in his hand and smiling at everyone. With him was a young assistant in a shiny leather bodysuit, unafraid to show the arousing curve of her body to attract the attention of many curious sets of eyes in the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the man said with a mana-amplified voice. “My name is William, and I will be your host tonight. By my side, as many of you are already familiar with, is the single most beautiful woman in Oxdale, Evelyn.”

Evelyn stepped forward right after the introduction and respectfully lowered her head and body to the audience, revealing a wonderful mouth-watering sight.

“Here comes the witch,” Julia, in the middle of the crowd, whispered to herself.

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Then, Evelyn turned around and waved her hand, making a tray float up from under the floor, on which was a piece of cloth covering something.

“Tonight will be a long night with a lot of fascinating items that for sure will captivate all of you,” William said gently. “So, it would be a shame not to start the show with Evelyn on the stage.”

A few complaints could be heard among the audience, though most chose not to let their opinion be known.

William, all too familiar with the situation, lowered his voice.

“But it’s not like Eve won’t have her chance. If the auction happens in a more aggressive, intense, and lively, time will be saved for a performance.”

Evelyn leaned her head, looking around in a bashful motion, then opened her arms and performed some simple dance moves like a approval to her boss’ saying.

“Alright, start the damn auction, you senile old fool,” a shout came from the crowd.

At the end of the day, not everyone could get their hands on the items on display. Most went here for the same reason people buy lottery. Therefore, the performance of one of the most renowned courtesan was necessary to maintain the audience’s already pathetic morale.

“Let’s get warm up first, shall we? How about starting out with a bomb?”

The room went quiet as eyes focused on the mysterious tray. As for Jack, seeing the shape under the cloth and the bank’s aggressive intention to start the night made him had caught some of his interest.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” William, still yet to uncover the item, said in an intriguing voice, “the background of this item is not something to be taken lightly. As far as we know, this is but a part of a set of powerful equipment. And luckily enough, it had found its way into the hands of our most esteemed guest, who then proceeded to introduce it to us.”

“Huh, if it’s not a full set, doesn’t that make it worth a dozen times less?” Another voice shouted.

“Yeah, you better have the information about that set, and maybe I will be interested.”

“Oh, really, remember what you just said, keep those hands away as I put mine on the thing.”

William let the attendance have their way for some time while Jack laughed at how the host was heating up the crowd with his tricks.

“But,” William raised the volume just enough to overwhelm the ruckus below, “a part as it may be, I assure you, that does not make it an average item.”

Evelyn, by his side, quickly pulled the cloth away with an elegant motion that, once again, managed to capture the people’s attention. The tray was tilted to the front a bit so that the audience could have a better view of the item resting on it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, before you is an elaborate and elegant, yet extremely deadly, weapon,” William said with increasing intensity. “This is a masterpiece that you may not even have a chance to witness a second time in your life. I myself can hardly believe the words I’m about to utter. That’s right, it’s an Epic weapon, and its name will glorify anyone who has their hands on it, Warfist of The Fleeting Might.”

Jack choked on his drink, startling Patricia for a second. The employee quickly took out a handkerchief and checked on the guest.

“Mr. William,” Patricia said, “the host is…”

“It’s alright,” Jack said with a hoarse voice. “He’s actually making me enjoy the night.”

The audience had gone silenced, their breathing was as rushed as that of the host on the stage. A few whispers could be heard here and there as requests to borrow money and negotiate started circling around. Some of the guests, though, only raised their eyebrows.

"Epic?" A female member who followed Lena Quinn spoke on behalf of the master. “The bank wouldn't be crazy enough to make such a claim only to raise the price of their auction item, would they?”

William knew this was just a sarcastic way to give the customers a chance to check it. If anyone, it would be these Artificers who had their eyes on the weapon the most.

“Well then, may I invite someone like Mr. Juan and the one from the Artificer Guild who has just commented to come up here and check it out? One on its quality, one on its capability?”

“Alright,” Juan replied and quickly jumped up the stage.

The woman who had raised her voice also walked down from her spot on the balcony above.

“One thousand Lesser Mana Crystal,” the Hensley made their opinion known.

“Mr. Arnold,” William turned his head toward the voice’s direction and said, “this might be a bit…”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong here,” Arnold Henley said with a flat voice. “Just continue what you are doing. I’m just giving my price to silence those sheep down there. If they can’t pay for it, leave.”

Ever since he had lost his grasp on Bastian, the head of the Hensley household had been much more aggressive than before. The atmosphere suddenly took a turn for the worse, with a few curses here and there directed at Arnold.

William was about to open his mouth to say something, but Juan, standing next to him, burst out a laugh after putting on his gloves.

Unable to hold himself back, the Warrior teacher immediately made a few moves. The sound of tearing wind passed through the ears of everyone in the auction room. All eyes blinked at the sight, for they couldn't keep up with the enhanced speed of the glove wearer.

“A good one,” Juan stopped to exclaim with an acquisitive look on his face.

“Then, please give the fists to the representative of the Artificer Guild,” William said.

Juan did just that, though his eyes carried a bit of sadness as he returned to his seat. The woman scrutinized the weapon with her custom-made glasses. After a while, she looked back at the guild master sitting above. As Lena answered with a nod, she let out a breath, then expressed her thoughts with a hint of excitement.

“This is, undoubtedly, an Epic item. The Artificer Guild sincerely apologizes for doubting the bank's accreditation capability."

“Oh, no big deal,” William said with a smile. “It is us, the bank, who couldn’t thank enough for the attendance of the Guild.”

Seeing how the host had already stood aside, the woman lowered her head and quickly returned to her seat.

"So," William cleared his throat, "since Mr. Arnold has made his bid, here are the rules for the auctioning of Warfists of The Fleeting Might. The starting price is one thousand Lesser Mana Crystals, and each bid must be at least fifty crystals more than the previous one. Now, let's get started, everyone!"