The pellet sold for one and a half million spirit stones, a price that shook Esteban’s soul. He had never thought that medicinal pellets could sell for such monstrous prices, and felt that he finally understood why Nolan had invested so much of his time and energy into practicing his alchemy. Maybe I should ask him to teach me later?
“Are you thinking about asking Nolan to teach you alchemy later?”
“H—how did you know?”
“You get a greedy look in your eyes when you think about money. It’s the worst.”
Before he could say anything in response, he noticed that the next items up for sale were all of his swords that had been accepted by the appraiser save for the ones that he had obtained from disciples of the Falling Rain Sect.
A minute later when the swords were sold off for 35,000 spirit stones, Aine raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I just remembered…I put three flying swords up for sale earlier. When the elders see them…”
Aine’s eyes widened in understanding. Glancing at the ceiling, she said, “Should we go tell Nolan?”
Her voice was overshadowed by that of the host.
“The next items up for sale are quite rare, and I’m sure at least a few members of the audience will recognize them!”
“It’s too late…” he muttered, seeing the swords in question suddenly summoned from the spatial bag that was tied to the host’s hip. She announced the starting bid as 20,000 spirit stones for the three of them, and was immediately met with countless voices.
About a minute into the flurry of bids that were sounding from the lower levels of the audience, one of the elders that Esteban had been wary of suddenly stood up and yelled out at the crowd with a penetrating voice. “Who put these items up for auction?” The old man had wavy grey hair and the sort of scowl that hinted at his permanent displeasure. Looking at the host, he demanded, “Our disciples aren’t permitted to sell the swords provided by the sect. Tell me now, who put these items up for auction?”
Estaban’s heartbeat sped up as a chill ran down his spine, though he used a rising rush of adrenaline to remain composed as he did his best to avoid making eye contact with the angry elder.
“Oh my god! Those are the flying swords from that sprinkling rain sect? Those are almost impossible for people outside the sect to get their hands on. I’d be a moron to let this opportunity slip past me. I’ll bid 30,000 spirit stones!”
“What’s your purpose here? Do you not put our sect in your eyes?”
A sudden pressure was exerted upon the booth above them, one so strong that it caused the ceiling to fracture in several places. Based on the force of the pressure, the elder that had been speaking was at the first level of Genesis.
“Ho, man. Did it just get a little humid in here, or is it just me?”
The pressure was lifted almost immediately after it appeared, though not at the behest of its owner. A cloaked figure suddenly appeared in the air in front of the three elders, cautioning them against violence within the CMA’s landholdings. Once he finished speaking, the mysterious cultivator remained in the air off to the side of the elders’ suite. All throughout, Nolan had been whistling a carefree tune.
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Controlling himself with visible effort, the elder looked at the crowd and addressed it at large. “Anyone who buys items that originate from our sect, if you return them to us after the auction then we’ll reimburse you in full, and also send you off with our goodwill.”
“Who needs your goodwill? Can it help me fly?” The sound of a finger tapping loudly against a tabletop settled in for a moment, before Nolan’s voice rang out from above, “Come on, host. Did I win the bid or what?”
Hearing Nolan’s words, several others in the crowd couldn’t help but up the bid. Although most of the people in the middle and upper levels of seating were very wealthy, the majority of them were merchants and thus limited to relatively low cultivation levels. The allure of a flying sword that was otherwise extremely difficult to obtain proved too much for them to ignore, even in the face of three elders from the arrayment-oriented sect where the rare treasures originated from. Nolan didn’t end up buying them in the end, but his comments had instantly poured water on the elder’s attempts at swaying the audience with their words.
Esteban heard some light gasps of discomfort from nearby.
“Take deep breaths,” came the man’s voice from next door, a bit haggard itself. “That’s right, it’ll pass slowly.”
“W—what was he thinking? I almost fainted!”
Several other people in their area had also been affected by the elder’s aura, which was a bit surprising since he hadn’t been bothered by it. Glancing at Aine to see how she was faring, he was relieved to notice that her condition was the same as ever.
“The next items…” The host appeared visibly flustered as she pulled out a small strip of parchment and double-checked the list of items up for sale. She mastered her surprise quite quickly as she summoned hundreds of swords into the air above her, all floating quietly under the effects of her spiritual energy. “Ahem. The next items up for auction are 852 flying swords of…unknown origin. They will be sold in sets of fifty. The starting bid is 400,000 spirit stones per set.”
The three elders became red in the face, the bald one grating through grinding teeth, “Unknown origin? Unknown origin? Those are clearly from our sect!”
“Exactly,” said the one with wavy hair. “Do you really expect us to stand here and take this humiliation?”
The host looked at them with growing annoyance. “These must have been put up for sale by someone in your sect, and frankly speaking, it’s none of our business either way. Unless you’re saying that someone broke into your territory and stole them?”
As the bidders quieted down to allow the situation to develop, the wavy-haired elder quickly tamed his temper. “I’m not saying that at all. I’m just curious as to how so many of our treasured swords wound up in your auction hall. Considering the number, this is no small matter, so if your organization wants to maintain a good relationship with our sect then we’ll be expecting you to disclose the names and locations of those that provided these to you.” Glaring at the cloaked figure that had dissipated his aura earlier, he added, “Now that things have reached this point, I no longer care to show you face. We won’t be taking no for an answer.”
The hall had gone deathly quiet, everyone within realizing that the current situation was quite serious. These three men didn’t seem like ordinary elders within the sect, so their words clearly carried a certain amount of weight. Considering the aura that the one man had revealed earlier along with the fact that he treated the other two with respect equal to what they showed him, they were likely of similar strengths. This meant that if they did decide to resort to violence, even the cloaked guard of the auction house wouldn’t have an easy time of dealing with them, to say the least of what might happen to the thousands of people in attendance should a battle between Genesis-staged cultivators happen to break out before them.
What broke this solemn silence was the last thing that anybody would have expected; a long, drawn out yawn.
“Oh man, I can’t believe I actually fell asleep. Damn! Look at all those swords! Hey lady, I’ll bid 400,000 on one of those bundles.” When the woman gazed above their booth with poorly hidden exasperation, a defensive response quickly followed. “What? For so many of these swords to pop up here is basically a miracle. If I buy 50 of them now, I could easily triple my money later at other auction houses. Since those guys aren’t allowed to sell them, doesn’t that make these some of the only ones in the world that are actually on the market? This right here is a chance at breaking the monopoly.”
Hearing this, many people began to mumble in agreement.
All three elders stood up with anger in their eyes, seemingly ready to fly across the room and attack Nolan on the spot. They might have actually done it, had a certain man not just walked around the bend that separated the registration desks from the main body of the amphitheatre.