As Xerces’ hand came down like a gavel sealing the sale of the pages, I hesitated, frozen from the scene I had just witnessed in my fractured sight.

The warmth trickled down my cheeks diverting my focus momentarily, a jarring sensation that compelled me to touch my cheeks, only to find my hands stained crimson. But in the still silence of the markets, I couldn’t help but spin around to where everyone was looking. Towards the very buyer of the coveted pages.

The same hooded figure with orange hair. That was now three of the specially curated items at this auction.

However, as my attention lingered, a realization dawned upon me—an imperative task awaited, one that demanded my immediate attention. Fleur’s red jacket weaved through the shifting crowd, signalling the need for my planned intervention.

Amidst the hush of the auction hall, I stealthily maneuvered towards the left front, aiming to sidestep the vigilant guards and slip into the office where the auction items were being secured.

“Thank you all for this wonderful night,” Xerces called out. “I’ll be handing back to King to close.”

The pages I sought were beginning to be wheeled off the stage, tantalizingly close to my very grasp. Determined to act swiftly, I edged closer to the door, every fibre urging me to seize this opportune moment.

Yet, an eerie sensation, an illusory force, seized at my body, impeding my advance. A compelling pull resisting my movement, rendering me frozen in place and unable to take an effortless step forward. A force beyond my comprehension prevented me from approaching the door.

Refusing to invoke fractured sight again to see what it might be, I grappled against the unseen restraint trying to push forward once again, my efforts proving futile against its insidious grasp. Despite my resolve, the pages slipped into the chamber along with a guard, the door inching close behind them as it began to shut.

To my dismay, my struggle didn’t go unnoticed.

A pair of white-masked guards' gaze fell upon me, conversation with another guard punctuated by an ominous gesture concealed within their trench coat.

“Thank you all ladies and gentlemen for the amazing turnout tonight,” King announced to the crowd. “For those who managed to acquire any product in this auspicious auction, I applaud you for your contribution to these underground markets. Please make your way to the side of the stage once I’ve finished.”

Beneath King’s announcements, I noticed something reaching out to the door before it closed. A hand coming out of midair, piercing through the fabric of reality itself.

It reached out and quietly gripped onto the door handle right before it managed to close, holding it open just briefly for someone to get it silently.

It must be Fleur’s ability.

However, she mustn’t know I can’t even take another step forward.

With the guards’ attention still fixated on my presence, an unbidden grip clamped down on my shoulder, a voice, eerily familiar, seeped into the chaos.

"Don't turn around," the voice cautioned quietly, resonating with an urgency that halted my every instinct.

Lucas’s sudden presence behind me, his voice tinged with urgency, sent a shiver down my spine. The gravity in his tone commanded obedience, and I dared not defy his warning.

In an instant, a disorienting shift warped my sight. The door to King's office surged forward, an optical illusion that contradicted the physical space between me and the door. The fabric of reality seemed to shrink like a closing accordion, drawing the office door impossibly closer, an alarming distortion beyond rational comprehension.

The sudden wrenching of reality jarred my senses, the very space around me contorting with an inexplicable force. At this point, I was just a few meters away from the door and didn’t have to wrestle with the inexplicable pulling force. I could just reach out and grip the handle.

But the brief fractured sight I had seen moments ago that got fogged up confused me at that moment. Was it a sight that the future I sought wouldn’t come? Was it a vision that someone tampered with?

Either way, I couldn’t give up on our task. It was something I had said I would take on for the rest of the team. As an established Hunstsman of the Den.

I mulled over the complexities of my next move. A hollow marble might afford an advantage yet in a market teeming with arcanists, such an artifact would likely stand out.

Amidst the bustling activity, Lucas's urgent whisper reverberated in my ear. "Be quick."

Lucas's urgent warning lingered in the air, his insistence urging haste. The warp in my sight, was likely Lucas’s ability. Was it an anomaly peculiar to just my perception, or did others witness such distortions?

King's resonant voice swept through the bustling auction hall, commanding the crowd's attention. "The auction concludes this night, a grand event indeed. However, fret not my patrons, for the markets have more to offer! Our usual sellers will be offering new products over the next few days, those unsold and unavailable to be sold at tonight's event. Be swift, dear buyers! The markets will remain asleep until midnight tonight when the stalls shall spring back to life later on."

Amid the dispersing crowd, a few figures began to make their way forward I began to take action.

Through the immense pressure pulling me back, I managed to take one step forward, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Xerces take notice of my actions.

Xerces locked his gaze on my subtle maneuvers. His keen perception discerned a hint of something amiss, prompting a subtle alertness that rippled through the guards stationed nearby.

However, before he could intervene, King's commanding presence intervened. With a silent gesture, King signalled assurance to Xerces, a tacit understanding passing between them.

"Leave it to me," King asserted with a steely resolve, dismissing Xerces's unspoken concern. "Attend to the auction with the rest of my guard; I'll handle my guests."

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A glance exchanged, an unspoken command, and Xerces yielded, allowing King to take charge.

As King descended the wooden stairs, his gaze fixated on me. I weighed my options, contemplating the possibility of seizing the moment, but King's strategic positioning hindered any immediate action. He stood in my direct path, a formidable barrier to the still half-open office door.

I had to wait for the perfect moment. The moment when everyone had their guard down, and take that opportunity to pass by.

"Elias, was it?" King's tone was deceptively calm. "And I thought tonight was going so smoothly. I extended an invitation personally, hoping you'd enjoy the festivities of tonight's glorious event. For you all to have a little fun. Yet here I find you engaged in some suspicious activities."

King's voice resonated with a calculated calmness that belied the tension crackling in the air. His words, laced with veiled accusations, pierced through the din of the dissipating auction crowd.

"A grand affair indeed," King continued. "Yet, your behaviour raises questions, Elias. One would think I hadn't prepared for any untoward incidents tonight."

He sighed, his gaze darting around the dimly lit space, searching for any sign of my accomplices. Lucas was right next to me, which meant he was likely either looking for Fleur or Darius.

King personally gave Fleur the invite to this auction meaning he was most definitely looking for Fleur. But couldn’t he just use his artificial eye to figure that out? Was there something we didn’t know about it?

With her innate abilities, however, she likely remained hidden, ensuring her hold on the partially open door. Her absence from sight was an intentional maneuver to sustain our only means of escape later on.

The single moment felt like an hour ticking by ominously, the urgency of the situation underscored by the departing footsteps of the auction winners. The guards, their hands concealed within their trench coats, remained vigilant, a palpable tension emanating from their poised stances.

Beside me, Lucas still stood firm. His unwavering presence was a reassuring anchor amidst the escalating turmoil.

King's demeanour shifted, a resigned sigh punctuating his next words. "Not going to give her up, I see? That’s fine." His tone softened, a mirthless chuckle escaping his lips. "Oh well, I only need her anyway."

In what felt like slow motion, King reached into his pure-white jacket, retrieving an intricately patterned revolver which he pulled up and pointed directly at me.

This was the moment to act.

“The enigmatic King needs to control his subjects. And I shall make you an example.”

As King pulled back at the trigger, I began to crouch down, ready to push forward through the resistance further and reach for the open door.

Bang! The bullet rang out.

But to my dismay, a sudden rush of movement disrupted the impending catastrophe. A catastrophe I had prepared to already escape from. A cloaked figure, swift as a phantom, leapt forward, intercepting the bullets with an arm forged of seemingly impervious metal.

The metallic clang of impact echoed through the chamber of the underground markets, the arm absorbing the bullets' force with an otherworldly resilience. The cloak, whipped by the sudden motion, unfurled from the figure's head, revealing a slender face framed by short black hair and a striking black scarf wound around the neck. A black monocle adorned the figure's right eye, adding an air of mystery to his sudden appearance.

Everyone who was still inside the markets had already turned their heads towards the disturbance at the sound of the firing revolver, but now they were sturring and causing a commotion at the further noise.

Amidst the chaos, a surge of determination coursed through me. Now was the perfect time. Despite the illusory pressure holding me back, I pushed forward. With a burst of effort, I lunged toward the partially open door, stretching my arm out to grasp hold of its frame.

The world seemed to warp and flex around me, akin to an accordion's fluid motion, as I strained against the unseen force opposing my movement. I closed the distance of a few meters in just one step, thus passing by the resistance against me.

Just as I reached out towards the wooden door, a warping thrum echoed out and a silhouette in a tactical suit ruptured through reality as it appeared right beside me in an instant, swinging a deep and powerful fist into my abdomen sending me sprawling.

The room spun around me as I collided with the floor, a sharp pang shooting through my side upon impact. My breath hitched, stolen by the sudden strike. Disoriented and winded, I struggled to regain my bearings.

As I looked up, attempting to grapple with the searing pain, my gaze locked onto a figure standing at the office door—Xerces. Confusion etched my expression. How had he appeared here so swiftly? Wasn't he on the opposite end of the market mere moments ago? What arcanist abilities did he possess?

King's voice, laced with annoyance, cut through the chaos. "Xerces, didn't I expressly instruct you to let me handle our esteemed guests?"

Xerces's response was cryptic yet unwavering. "You seemed to require a little assistance," he retorted coolly, a hint of defiance underlying his words.

Meanwhile, the black-haired boy with the monocle, quickly donned his cloak once again, hiding the metallic arm. The rest of the auction buyers began to arrive at the scene, their expressions ranging from surprise to curiosity at the tumultuous turn of events.

The figure with the monocle, the cloaked orange-haired buyer, one with a pair of goggles on and a large bag, and a few other unrecognisable arcanist buyers.

With determination, I got up to my feet once again. Yet I suddenly felt stuck in place, a similar feeling to the pulling resistance before. But this time it was a frozen feeling, one where try as I might, I could not move an inch at all.

Time seemed to grind to a halt, my muscles tensed and locked in place, a pervasive sense of immobility settling over me like an unyielding shroud. The sudden stillness enveloped the room, freezing everyone in a suspended state of apprehension.

A voice, originating from the shadowy recesses of the office, reverberated with a commanding authority that pierced through the eerie silence. "This auction is over. My services are no longer required, King."

The speaker's declaration bore an air of finality, their presence an elusive phantom that wielded control over the captive audience. In an instant, the web-like force that held us captive dissipated, releasing us from its inexplicable hold.

As the tension dissipated, my thoughts raced, probing for answers in the wake of this mysterious intervention. Who wielded such a power, capable of subduing us all with a mere command? What arcanist abilities lay behind this act of control?

Before contemplation could yield any answers, a sudden flash of crimson blurred past my vision, a hand seizing me with a firm grip. In the blink of an eye, I found myself abruptly transported, appearing in King's office with Fleur at my side.

This was the ability of a Tier 7: Blinker. A tier higher than a Tier 8: Porter.

A Blinker has the ability to seemingly teleport small distances with a time-defying speed. Though not as fast as light, but fast enough to look like a rush of colours passing by.

Disoriented and struggling to make sense of the rapid sequence of events, I glanced around the room, scanning for any sign of the pages we sought. Yet, to my dismay, the space remained devoid of any trace of the product.

"What happened?" I managed to gasp out, my voice laced with confusion and urgency.

Fleur, her focus unwavering, shot a swift glance around the office, her brows furrowed in concern. "No time for explanations," she replied urgently, her tone tinged with urgency. "We need to find those pages and leave—now."

But there were no pages to be seen, not even the glass cases or fabric cloth to cover them. Nor were there any of the other items that were sold at the auction at all. They had all disappeared.

Then in another instant, Lucas appeared beside me.

“Xerces. He’s gone.”