Karma danced through a sea of passersby, skillfully avoiding outstretched arms and legs. Today's marketplace clamored with activity far more than in previous days. He found no chinks in its armor to accelerate through, his woven path earning but a standard pace.
Karma's palm felt a delicate caress, a gentle reminder of the golden leaflet held within. Smiling in renewed assurance, his grip tightened, secreting spiritual energy through his pores.
From the leaflet, Karma received a vague sense of direction. It tugged at his senses, gifting sight where the surrounding horde offered naught. Karma captured the feeling, routing it to his footsteps, ensuring a steady advance.
Leaving the navigation to his instincts, Karma pondered the unusual change: Are auctions usually this popular?
Drifting through the roads of discord, Karma felt eerily calm, airy even, as if traversing a plane immune to the boisterous stimuli.
Uncanny. My nerves feel unnaturally solid; is what I feel truly calm? Or am I a doe staring, frozen, unable to cope with the fatal jaws closing around me?
…
The population reached its zenith as he neared an imposing structure. Unlike the gambling hall he'd visited before with its ostentatious embellishments, the Ornamental Auction Pavilion was nothing if not authentic.
Reminiscent of a castle, the edifice boasted grand cobblestone walls adorned with imperial might. Men and women, dressed in black robes bearing silver caducei, were posted throughout the structure, their seasoned gazes observing the attendees' approach.
When Karma drew close, his invitation shot towards the nearest balcony, vibrating in front of one of the attendants—a tall, thin man with flowing black hair.
After a brief inspection, the attendant nodded and stepped on empty air. Gasps sounded as his measured steps brought him above the crowd, moving toward Karma.
"Flight?" Karma blurted.
Descending, the man replied, "Close, but not quite. I'm air-walking, a technique you'll learn in due course."
Touching down, the attendant clasped his hands, an act tinged with a hint of awkwardness due to their disparate height.
"Good morning; I've been tasked with escorting you to your suite, right this way please."
**
The two wound through a maze of corridors, all bereft of decoration. Most of their journey passed in silence, persisting until a wooden door came into sight.
"All that you require awaits in your suite, anonymity included. Once you enter, even I won't be able to find my way back."
Pausing, the attendant stepped aside, extending his arm forward.
"I can go no further. May your harvest be bountiful and your wishes granted."
**
Upon entering the suite, Karma was relieved to find a splash of color.
"I wonder if the lacking decorum is related to how they manage anonymity", he mused.
The room was cubic, with elegant motifs lining its walls. One mural depicted kingly figures striking deals, whereas a poem articulated the common man's exchange of cattle for crops.
Karma lacked an appreciation for the arts, however, instead beelining towards a platter of hors d'oeuvres in the corner.
As he loaded his plate with brioche, seared meats, and rice, his attention was drawn by the massive plane of glass situated at the suite's front. Translucent, arcane runes circulated about the material, faint enough not to obstruct the awe-inspiring stage behind.
Karma brought his plate to an armchair overlooking the venue, savoring the earthly delights.
"I could get used to this," he moaned, kicking off his shoes and digging his toes into the silken carpet.
Mid-bite, Karma looked down, watching as guests filed in below, heralding an atmosphere of excitement.
It's time.
Invoking the white-bronze ouroboros, his eyes pierced into an adjacent wall segment. A host of pale-gold threads burrowed into the opaque structure before rapidly pulsing, projecting an image. Smudges blinked into existence, swiftly honing into the outlines of people.
The threads nearest him vibrated at extraordinary frequencies; first came static, then unintelligible whispers, until finally …
"Aunty, relax, we've shown Junior Brother nothing but good will."
"Yeah! Plus, Sister Tang showered the brat—"
Smack.
"Another month in the deprivation chamber."
"But—"
Smack.
"Two."
Silence.
**
Karma reclined in his plush armchair, savoring the pleasant aftertaste of his meal. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, punctuated by a single, vibrant spotlight illuminating the stage. A woman in a cascading scarlet gown emerged, commanding the onlookers' attention.
"Fellow Daoists and Esteemed Elders," she began, voice imbued with spiritual energy, "I am your hostess, Ling Xiao Yun. Welcome to the Ornamental Treasure Pavilion's triannual auction!"
An onslaught of applause boomed at her appearance.
"Miss Ling is the real treasure!"
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Flashing a radiant smile, she continued, "Settle down, settle down. You've all waited long enough; Let the show—begin!"
Her dress erupted into a dazzling inferno, swallowing her whole. When the jittery audience could see again, her gown had morphed into a scintillating emerald hue, an ornate podium now beside her.
"Our first to spruce up the occasion, a fallen branch from a Yggdrasilian sapling. Notoriously, only decaying Yggdrasilian naturally shed their branches, an ode to this item's rarity."
Looking over at the amalgam of crystalline green and exquisite ebony, Karma nearly choked at its enormous golden thread. Furthermore, it wasn't unconnected …
"What bravery, transacting such a hot potato, both buyer and seller," he whispered.
"For apothecaries, weaponsmiths, and mechanics theorists, this is a must-have fragment into the mysteries of life; the biddings will start at 50,000 SSF, minimum 5,000 SSF increments."
Ordinary participants were left scratching their heads. One audacious individual even whistled. Breaking the silence, the hostess' demeanor shifted dramatically as if possessed by a cheetah:
"One of our V.I.P. members has bid fifty. Fifty-five, fifty-five, do I hear fifty-five?"
…
"I have fifty-five, but I don't have sixty. Sixty is the number to beat fifty-five, let me hear sixty …"
"Seventy's in, seventy-five, do I hear seventy-five?"
…
"Ladies and gentlemen we've heard ninety-five, a smooth hundred, can we get one-double-o?"
…
The rabid hostess quirked Karma's eyebrows, but the monstrous bids had him reeling.
I'd have to hollow out the gambling hall's buried treasures thrice to match the opening bid.
Peeking left then right, he spied on two middle-aged practitioners indifferently instructing their clan's youths:
"Mm, go up ten then five. We're nearing market price."
…
"Han'er, five more then stop."
"Yes, Lord Sheng."
"Damn codgers, that's years of digging you're tossing around," Karma cursed.
"150,000, going once, going twice, sold!"
The artifact vanished from the podium, replaced by a corked bottle.
"Now one for the little guys! Don't fret, fellow Daoists, Xiao Yun remembers you. Here we have a Qi Cleansing pill, perfect to refresh tired minds. We'll start at five and go up by two."
"Huh," said Karma, "she didn't get all excited."
...
"A basket of Spring Lichee … sold for twelve."
"An ounce of Floral Essence … fifteen."
Next, an unassuming manuscript topped the podium.
"For you Juniors starting out, a beginners guide to the mechanics of slicing. Starting twenty, increments four."
Jolted from his half-asleep state, Karma toyed with an intriguing premise: What would happen if I were to slice a golden thread?
Fumbling around for his bidding remote, he tapped a series of symbols.
The hostess suddenly twitched, enunciating strangely, "Twenty from a V.I.P."
Arms mid-flight abruptly halted, their owners' faces contorting in confusion.
"What the fuck?"
"Maybe they sat on their remote?"
Amid an avalanche of whispers, finally, the hostess voiced, "Once, twice, sold to a V.I.P."
Giddy, Karma fished twenty stones from his spatial pouch, dropping them in the collection compartment. In return, he received a manuscript titled: "Mechanics: A Beginner's First Slice".
**
Drool lingered at the edge of Ling Xiao Yun's lips as she stepped forward.
"We will now commence the V.I.P. segment. Guests seated on the ground floor need not leave but are barred from bidding."
As if injected with renewed vitality, an electric aura engulfed the venue. Karma, aware a crucial moment loomed, summoned a spiritual stone fragment in each hand to aid in his energy consumption. Karma's divination web had already invaded every suite, demasking his fellow V.I.P.'s hidden movements.
"The leading bids will be displayed above me. I urge the honored ones to ready themselves, for the true event begins—now!"
With a thunderous clap, storm clouds bloomed across the stage. Yet an instant later, they abnormally retracted as if time had rewound.
Incessant murmurs overtook the hall. Following the buzz, Karma's sight settled on an unassuming dandelion encased in a flickering dome. Waves of distortion surrounded the flower, sending the podium beneath into a state of oscillation—pristine one moment, decaying the next.
"One portion of Temporal Inversion Dandelion!" Ling Xiao Yun's voice echoed through the hall.
"Reportedly containing the essence of time-reversal, this beauty is coveted by any with a fascination for time. The bidding will start at 300,000 SSF with 20,000 increments!"
The once-lively hall was entombed in silence. As the bidders held their breath, blurry fog gathered above the stage, solidifying into the characters: "300,000 SSF".
"300,000! Do I hear 320,000?" shouted Ling Xiao Yun's between ragged pants.
...
Licking her lips, she yelled, "340,000 on the table; do I hear 360,000?"
The bidding intensified to a crescendo, bidder after bidder dropping out until only two remained—Lord Sheng, whom he'd snooped on earlier, and an unknown youth.
400,000
500,000
600,000
Lord Sheng roared when the price hit 700,000, failing to contain his cultivation base.
Crack!
Tables overturned, furniture flew, and even the glass panel shook. Wide-eyed, Karma watched dumbstruck as Lord Sheng rampaged through the room, his descendant curled up in a corner.
"700,000! Do I hear 720,000?"
No more bids came. Ling Xiao Yun, teetering on the soles of her feet, declared, "700,000, going once ... going twice ... Sold!"
With a crazed gleam in his eye, Karma's spiritual energy drain reached an apex before fizzling out, the fading white-gold threads relaying one final message: a name.
Seizing the moment, Karma shot out of his suite, tossing a plume of dust—vestiges of his depleted spiritual stone fragments. The bland hallway was replaced by a warped film resembling an outside street. Bounding out, Karma slipped into a hidden alcove, readying himself for the trial ahead.
**
A couple blocks from the Ornamental Treasure Pavilion, a spatial fissure quietly manifested, spitting out a bearish man clad in deep-blue robes. Before he could move to depart, a nervous, fidgeting figure intercepted his path.
Peering downwards, the gravity of his gaze was overwhelming, as if channeling the heavens' dominion.
"M-mister? Are you Lord Sheng?" squeaked Karma. The ensuing quiet only aggravated his apparent nervousness, violent tremors wracking his body.
"Three words."
Puzzlement colored Karma's evident horror. Parting his dry lips, he half-spoke, half-pleaded, "Scary. Voice. Note."
Trembling, his arm extended from beneath his robes, revealing a folded square of parchment. Unmoving, Lord Sheng employed telepathy to seize and unfurl the note, dismissively scanning its contents.
Greetings, Daoist Sheng.
Covertly gift the child 6500 SSF ⇔ 'Temporal Inversion Dandelion' buyer details.
Half an incense stick remains; choose urgently.
Betraying no emotion, Lord Sheng wordlessly patted Karma's shoulder. The act caused a slight lull in his anxious countenance, surprise flickering in his gaze as he noticed an additional bulge near his chest.
A fleeting amalgam of white bronze graced his eyes, confirming the presence of an untethered golden thread pocketed within his robe.
Suddenly, Karma's bronze pupils shot upward, unflinchingly boring into Lord Sheng's eyes. Concurrently, his features loosened, his back straightened, and his flustered demeanor evaporated like smoke.
Emanating an air of indifference, Karma slowly intoned, "9342312--246144132535."
Losing interest, Karma unhurriedly departed, disappearing amidst the passersby with measured steps.
Lord Sheng's lips thinned, ruminating over the abstruse sequence of digits and dashes. Rooted in place, his sentinel-like personage appeared frozen in time, the note still hovering before his unblinking gaze.
Eyes suddenly widening, Lord Sheng subconsciously snatched the floating parchment, leveling the ink with a piercing stare. In his mind's eye, the numbers scattered across the note, finding the letters whose word-local position matched their respective word-global indice.
"Greetings: 9, s. Daoist: 3, o. 6500:-, skip … Urgently: 5, n!"
Keeping only the letters found via deduction, the rest were discarded, uncovering the secrets buried within:
s, o n
o f t h ⇔ ‘ e e l ’ b a .
f a c t i ; o n .
"Son of the Elba Faction," he whispered.
Lord Sheng's divine sense surreptitiously scanned a location two blocks away. There, he found a listless youth trudging along, bereft of the striking aura from before.
"Hm?" Ignoring the boy, he locked onto a conspicuous vagabond huddled in a nearby alleyway, their dirt-laden hands tightly grasping a familiar-looking spatial pouch.
"The winds of fortune extend far and wide," he mused, discontinuing his investigation.
...
Karma crept into his room, fists clenched in barely contained jubilance. He whispered, "Atop these stones, my cathedral shall rise. Devotees and deity will be but one: me."