Celestia has never seen an auction done with such flair or drama. There were dancers on the floor, their movements came with flower petals falling, and sparks of fire, there were waiters and waitresses walking about with drinks that glowed, and cups that shone as if they were made some kind of pure gold, the candles and lighting at each table was decorated and seemed to resonate with the overall lighting of the hall.

It was ostentatious, but it was also beautiful. If the Flaming Phoenix meant to impress, they were successful because throughout the halls were various audible oohs and aahs. The Flaming Phoenix were primarily a female dominated sect, so quite a few of the experts present were female.

The Flaming Phoenix demonstrated their mastery of the flame to entertain, using them to create flaming shapes and illusions throughout the hall, some of which were fairly suggestive. There were even some dancing flames on the stage itself, all in the shape of dancers. Their flames could change color, and it was quite the light show.

Not all performances were with flames. There were mortal and 1 to 2nd realm dancers and entertainers scattered along smaller stages spread throughout the hall. There were many dancers in so little clothing that it was borderline dangerous, and there were clearly some women who were that sort of entertainers, though the sort of cultivators that cavorted with such services were usually hidden in the corners.

Celestia watched, but her attention soon turned to the stage, as the announcer began the auction. The lower ranked items came first, accompanied with even more festivities. There were waitresses and waiters running about with plates filled with rice wine. No table would be without wine, and she knew that drunk cultivators were not prudent buyers.

There were a group of beautiful announcers on the stage, each took a turn to explain the items that would be put for sale. At first, the bids were fairly easy, and few people participated. Prices were fairly low too, only about 100 to 1,000 tokens.

“These things don’t seem to interest those present.” Elly whispered to Celestia, even though Elly herself seemed quite impressed with what’s shown. She even thought of buying one, but then, she didn’t have tokens and didn’t dare ask Tundra for it.

After a few sets of the lower tier items were announced, the mood changed. A different announcer took to the stage, and somehow, the attention of those present also changed with her. A spear appeared within the crystal container next to the announcer, and everyone scrambled to check it out.

“The next item will be a spear forged from the heart iron found in the belly of a 8th realm Volcanic Dragonsnake! Made by the Flaming Phoenix’s Senior Weaponscraft Elder! It goes on sale starting at 10,000 Tokens!”

Celestia picked up the special glasses, and put it on, and through the glasses, it was as if the spear was right in front of her. She could look at it in any direction, and even inspect its energy. The hall was filled with murmurs and sounds, as some already began to make a bid.

She blinked as her eyes tried to figure out what’s special about the spear, but the prices already began to soar. “12,000!”

Her heart pounded. They weren’t even bidding, yet the rapid rises in price somehow made her feel nervous. “17,000!”

A few blinks later, and the prices skyrocketed to 25,000 tokens.

Celestia looked around, and this was the first time she saw frenzy in some of the participants. A few rods lit up together.

“28,000 tokens!” The announcer repeated, as the lights began to shine across the halls. For the exclusive, private balconies, there was a small gem inset right on the balcony itself that shone, whenever they wanted to bid.

“30,000!” Some other sect countered, and somehow thought it fit to shout.

Celestia couldn’t believe it. It was a ridiculous amount of money for a spear, and Elly looked pale. So pale that the fourth wife turned to Celestia. “Are people really paying this kind of sum just for a spear? I don’t think my entire family could even put that sort of money together.”

“Such things are heirlooms, Lady Mistburn.” Elder Severian, who was seated just a few seats away, said frankly. “For small-middle sized sects or smaller families. An eighth realm spear could be used for many, many things.”

“Are we not one?” Elly said.

“Well, it’s relative. We’re not that small. We’re a bit bigger.” Severian said with a hint of pride. “We’re also going to be buying a flying ship, that will cost even more.”

“But it’s a flying ship!” Elly said. “Those things have value in many ways! You could use it as transport! It’s even a fortified extension of the sect. A spear, no matter how powerful, is still just a spear!”

Severian chuckled, and Celestia herself wondered how much it is due to a difference in experience. She knew that there were things powerful spears could do that lower-realmed folks didn’t quite understand, and was fairly sure there would be uses that even she didn’t know of. In some ways, it exposed Elly’s sheltered upbringing. “That’s a value for them to determine, Lady Mistburn.”

Elly blushed. “I- I don’t understand.”

Severian smiled. “Consider it the whims of the rich.”

Tundra was uninterested. He came for a flying ship, and as far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered. He had seen better things, and so, his attention was directed at the audience instead. It was fairly easy for Celestia to notice how her husband observed the members of the Flaming Phoenix, the merchants, and also the other families.

“39,000!”

A strange silence descended in the hall, even though the dancers and performances never stopped. Celestia looked around, and saw the flashing lights came from another group across the hall. She didn’t recognize them, but they came and took up six tables.

The 8th realm spear was sold to a mid-tier sect from the Northern Reaches for 39,000 tokens. A fortune, but for a mid tier sect led by a 5th realm, they could generally earn that in a few years. If they had an alchemist, a crafter, or a formation master, that sum of money would only set them back for a few months.

Tundra gave a lecture once on how the cultivation economy generally placed a premium on custom goods. To make money, most sects needed to trade valuable goods, so alchemists, crafters, formation masters and builders all commanded a hefty premium for their services. This was because these trades were time consuming to learn, harder to master, but so important for cultivators to advance in realms. It was the difference between stagnation, and progress, and a cultivator would give everything up till that point for that difference. Special trades and skills meant most sects gave these crafters face, and was also why the Formation Master of the Blood Blade Sect was confident that she wouldn’t be abandoned.

But talent is accordingly hard to find, and thus, even if almost every cultivator knew the importance of these trades, not all could walk the path.

Ordinary cultivators that hunted spirit beasts and just did little crafting work would often find it quite difficult to earn the same amount of money as a crafter of the same tier, and it is for such reason that most sects tried and devoted a part of their efforts on some kind of craft. A sect that had to buy all their healing elixirs or low tier cultivation pills would soon find themselves bankrupt.

Those that didn’t have luck with the crafts, would usually turn to provision of services, bodyguards, protection of trade routes, extraction of resources from the mortal lands and usually, lean into their connections with the royal family’s extensive resources.

Celestia’s eyes watched as a female elder walked on a stairs of fire, as she ascended up to the platform.

“The last item before we auction our ships!” The elder declared. “A Ninth-Realm Suite of Armor made from the Frozen Living Flames, sourced from the heart of the Eternal Burning Volcano!”

The numbers went crazy again. “100,000!”

“150,000!”

There were flickers of light from a few balconies. “200,000!”

Celestia felt a little light headed when she heard the amounts thrown around by these greater sects. It was a sentiment they all shared, as most of those on the main floor were not bidding. Most of the flickering lights came from the tens of private balconies. Elly’s pale face looked even more pale. “I feel like a pauper.”

“Me too.” Celestia nodded along. Somehow, she too couldn’t quite imagine having that sort of sums at play.

Severian nodded. “That was impressive. I would love an item like that.”

Tundra chuckled, and patted the elder on his shoulder. “Not today, Severian. Not today.”

Then suddenly, Tundra’s attention switched, and instead, began to stare at a strange woman dressed in one of the merchant guild’s uniforms. A chaperon, and she stood over another family of people. Celestia wondered why, and she too began to look in their direction.

“Don’t.” Tundra said abruptly, and that made her turn away. “I believe we have infiltrators, but it’s not appropriate for us to intervene as guests. I don’t think they will create trouble today, but let’s not draw attention to ourselves.”

Celestia answered. “Got it.”

That chaperon did nothing, and yet, she knew her husband’s attention never left that person.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

***

“And now, we have our first 70-man flying ships for auction. The starting price is set at 80,000! Each increase will be 5,000 tokens! Do we have anyone at 85,000?”

Tundra closed his eyes momentarily, just to prepare himself for it, and clicked the rod.

Tundra immediately raised the bid. Strategically, since there were about twenty units on offer, if he went on the attack in the first bid and raised persistently, it’s likely the other buyers would decide not to compete with him and let him have his win, since they could compete on the remaining nineteen units. “85,000! Alright, 90,000 anyone?”

Of course, that strategy only worked if the others didn’t think the same way. There was a flash across the hall. “90,000!”

But the past few days, they’ve looked around enough to conclude that they were likely going to have a fairly crowded field. There were more than twenty middle sized sects around, and it is likely they were all aiming for the 70-man ships. Thus, the longer the auction went, and as the supply of ships began to diminish, it’s likely prices would only increase.

Desperation.

So, Tundra countered. The speed of response was key. He needed to scare off the other players to tell them that this first one was his and he wouldn’t stop raising. “95,000!”

This time, a third player emerged. It came from another sect with a seventh realm sect master. “100,000!”

Tundra countered instantly. The female elder on top shouted. “And we have 105,000! Anyone?”

Just behind, Edison turned and looked at Anna, his face was pale and he genuinely looked a little worried. Anna just tapped his shoulder. “Father knows what he’s doing.”

“110,000!”

Everyone at Tundra’s section looked nervous, but he nodded, and pressed the button instantly. The announcer happily smiled. “And now, 115,000!”

What happened then was a fairly instantaneous back and forth, as it was soon clear the Tundra and another party were both serious bidders. They traded raises, and the price surged upwards. “180,000.”

The numbers flew some more. There were only two real contestants for the first ship. The other parties that were clearly eying the same ships were holding back.

“220,000!”

There were whispers in the crowd. Even those among his family looked concerned. Tundra overheard how Edison whispered. “Anna, how much do we have?”

Anna shrugged. “I don’t know. Father didn’t say.”

“Are- are we selling the sect for this?” Edison asked in a rare moment of worry. “Will we be poor?”

“Nonsense, father won’t do that.”

It was something he found quite amusing, but he’ll get to that later. For now, he had a bid to win. In some ways, a high price would set the scene for the next nineteen bids.

The prices soared some more. The announcer looked around the room as Tundra’s bidding rod shone. She happily read out the price. “Alright, we have a raise, and it’s now 290,000 tokens.”

It was a little more than he expected, given the historical price range of 100,000 to 250,000, but he didn’t quite care. For once, a great silence loomed in the entire room. Hesitation. An auction was deeply psychological for those fascinated with auctions. Tundra just wanted his ship and he’ll pay 400,000 tokens if he needed to.

The announcer repeated the call. “Alright, second chance, 290,000 tokens! Anyone want to match that?”

There were nineteen more ships to go. If the field was crowded, it was better to just win it. There could be some lucky bets in the middle, but Tundra preferred to have the certainty of winning.

With his knowledge of pills and elixirs, the money mattered little. Time and resources were more important, and the flying ship would help save time. A lot.

“Alright, third call. Third call. Anyone for 295,000?” The announcer looked around, and not a single counter. Tundra had gone above the historical prices by 40,000, it’s likely the rest of them would wait for the next ship.

Around the room some of them clearly thought he overpaid for it.

Again, silence.

“Alright! And the first 70-man ship goes to the group on the 14th Section!”

Tundra smiled and placed the bidding rod back on the table. “There we go.”

Severian looked at him. “Did we overpay?”

“A little. But no worries. With such a crowded field, I doubt the prices will be that much cheaper.”

“Do we have much left?”

“Some. We’ll convert some of it back to regular spirit stones, and make a visit to their cultivator markets. There should be some interesting materials that we could use to make more pills.” Tundra mentally calculated that with about 100,000 flaming tokens, that should be enough for a decent amount of materials. The Flaming Phoenix’s main element was Fire, but they also had a fair bit of ability in Wood, Earth and Metal, though it mainly existed to complement their crafting needs.

With more higher quality materials, he’d be able to produce better pills to safely support his disciples up to the fifth realm. It would be wise to prepare the materials needed for Elder Jashen and Elder Jon for their future attempt to rise to the sixth realm.

“Got it.”

***

There were more items to go, but at least, he could now relax, Tundra’s attention never left the chaperon, and felt the faint presence of a Zuja corruption. It was a very low level form, likely used just for scouting and information collection. Disposable.

The real mastermind was somewhere else. The Zuja rarely worked alone, it must have another corrupted agent present somewhere nearby.

Now that he noticed their presence, he had to recalibrate his own assessment of their strength. They were clearly planners, and developed fairly sophisticated information networks to collect information. The fact that they were already scouting out the auctions even though the Zuja’s public appearance only mainly occurred a few thousand years later suggested their stored strength must’ve been a lot deeper.

They never had a chance. Even if they all somehow united, the bug cult had already poisoned everyone’s well.

Now was not the time to reveal them. This was a foe that had to be ripped out from the roots, and its roots are really well hidden. Muddled waters would make his work a lot harder. The Whispering Man clearly knew something, and at the same time, it’s likely the Zuja also knew the Whispering Man were its enemies. He needed to help them in a way that didn’t link back to himself.

A shadow group to support the Whispering Man, claiming to be the Whispering Man while working independently could be one way forward.

And for once, Tundra probably knew what and where he should go for help.

***

“300,000!” The announcer shouted.

Edison’s heart pounded nervously as the third ship was sold for 10,000 more. He looked at father, who now suddenly seemed more relaxed. He looked at his father, and then asked. “Is- is it all going to be so expensive?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It’ll fluctuate, but if there’s still strong interest, maybe it’ll even go higher.” Tundra said, and to Edison, it was quite rare to actually see his father admit he didn’t know.

He turned to see his mother, Elly, deciding to munch on some snacks. Everyone else now could focus their attention on the entertainment, since they’ve already bid what they wanted to bid. There were still many more items to go, and there’s even the 500-man and 1,500-man ships later on, but none of them would matter.

“Father, do we have to stay here? I mean, we already got what we wanted.”

Tundra laughed, and nodded. “I know, but unfortunately, the Flaming Phoenix doesn’t permit participants to leave until the entire event is over. It’s a security procedure. So for now, let’s just relax and have some food. You won’t be able to find such high quality food for a while, even if it’s really just the same types and styles of food.”

“Oh. But why?”

“Because those in the exclusive zones get to leave first.” His father answered. “They will get their items, while the rest of us stay here. Then we get to leave all together. They don’t want early leavers to fight outside of the venue. There’s probably far too many fights in auction halls already.”

“Isn’t that like a prison?”

“The price of joining the Flaming Phoenix’s auctions. And there’s entertainment.” Tundra said a little cheerfully, and picked up a bottle of rice wine from the waiter. “Oh look, they have one of those with traditional herbs. Come, son. Drink with me.”

“Eh, let me.” Severian offered, as he took the bottle and poured it in fresh new cups for the Sect Master. The bottle had enough for ten, and so, he poured ten cups. The Elder then suggested. “Well, I suppose we should have a toast for buying our first flying ship?”

Tundra’s eyes blinked momentarily, as if it never occurred to him to celebrate. “Ah. Yes. Of course. To our first Flying Ship.”

Quickly, throughout all their tables, everyone picked up a filled cup to stand.

Severian smiled. “A few words, Sect Master?”

“Ah. Hell. Let’s just drink. To our first ship! Ganbei!” Tundra said, and their porcelain cups clinked together. Everyone drank.

In the background, Edison somehow noticed the presence of some waiters activating some kind of sound suppression formation. Toasts were rowdy things, and this was when he realized why he didn’t really notice the other tables toasting, even though they clearly were.

The first cup led to another, and somehow, it helped numb the crazy numbers that were flying about.

Edison looked at his father, and looked at a man sitting in a chair. He was relaxed, and yet, in his eyes were worries. At that moment, he didn’t know why, Edison looked and realized his father was old. His father as a powerful cultivator could alter their appearance, but he took the form of a mature man with white hair. To everyone, his father was always the sort of an old, slightly wrinkled but still handsome man.

Now though, the young master realized it didn’t fit him. It was the way he looked at everyone else, as if he was always trying to remember something. It was in that distant look that he realized their father wasn’t lying about those dreams. “Father?”

“Yes?” Tundra turned to look at him, and that look in his eyes vanished just as quickly.

Somehow, it made Edison wonder. Did he really die? What was it like? “Oh. Nothing. I forgot.”

He wondered to himself, could he bear to see his own wife die? How would he be if his own children died while he still lived? There was a saying amongst mortals, that in times of war, fathers bury their sons.

For incredibly talented cultivators, it was almost a certainty that their offspring would never exceed their talent, so much so that when an offspring shows potential, it truly draws their attention. Maybe, it was a hope, within them all, to finally have a descendant that could continue to journey for them. It must weigh on them so much to constantly bury their own children and partners.

Is that why high level cultivators often seclude themselves and cut themselves away from society? Because the pain was just constant.

Edison shook his head. What was he thinking? It must be those crazy pills he was taking. Why was he explaining for his long absent father?

There was a pause, as a different set of entertainers emerged. The dancers gave way to trained spirit beasts that performed feats of skill. It was also fairly impressive.

At the tenth ship, there was a rare anomaly where one of the ships was sold for 245,000, that somehow no one else decided to bid. But then, all subsequent ships were sold for 300,000, and the last three were sold for 320,000.

Their entire party could only sit in awe when the bigger ships came into the picture, as prices were then in the millions of tokens.

Tundra somehow just leaned back, still unamused. “Work harder. Someday it’ll be us.”

The first few words irritated him. Not everything could be solved by hard work. If it did, he wouldn’t be where he is now. Cultivation was unfair like that. Yet, Edison could hear it in his voice. That his father must’ve been there. Certainty.

The young master closed his eyes, his heart confused by the two feelings in his heart. Irritation and yet, newfound understanding.

Forgiveness is a long way away. Maybe never. But Edison contemplated the possibility for understanding.