The next morning.
“Host, are you not planning to exchange some currency at the item shop?”
“Exchange currency?”
Leya, who was in the middle of her breakfast, paused in surprise. “Why would I need to exchange currency?”
“Well…” The System seemed to recall something. “You’re not planning to single-handedly storm the auction and rescue that little elf, are you, Host?”
“Of course, I am! What else?” Leya retorted with a look of innocent bewilderment.
The System fell silent.
‘Sigh… Just as expected… The Host’s personality really is something else…’
“May your martial endeavors be prosperous!” With that, the System wisely decided against further commentary.
Truth be told, the System didn’t give a damn about some paltry auction house. Who was the System, after all? The foremost divine artifact in all the realms, forged by a hundred thousand deities!
Let alone a minor human auction, even if the entirety of Volantis, or the Kingdom of Alvia, or even the higher-tiered Dragon Race were present, the System wouldn’t spare them a second glance.
‘Hmph! Mere worldly trifles, pitiful existences akin to ants,’ the System scoffed internally.
Yet, despite Leya’s plan being feasible, the System couldn’t shake the feeling that she was growing overly confident, even arrogant and recklessly self-assured.
While such a temperament was common among gods, times had changed. Leya’s current strength was not yet formidable. At least according to the knowledge the System had received from the gods, individuals with martial prowess comparable to the Knight King should still be numerous in this world.
However, that was back when the divine race still thrived. As for the current state of this world and its overall power levels, the System remained ignorant.
A faint unease persisted within the System, sensing that something was amiss.
****
In the distance.
More accurately, it was the auction venue itself.
The place hummed with a cacophony of voices. Even within the seemingly spacious auction hall, a dense crowd now packed every corner.
Most attendees were clad in noble attire, a significant portion being young scions of prominent families. The rest comprised wealthy merchants and magnates from across the kingdom, with some even having traveled from foreign lands thousands of miles away.
Their collective purpose for gathering today was not, of course, to enjoy a communal sauna or to engage in trivialities. Instead, they were all here for a single, coveted, immensely valuable, and somewhat mysterious [item].
Its name was—[Elf].
The benefits of elves had been previously discussed, so further elaboration here was unnecessary.
“Hey, Joss! I didn’t expect to see you here!”
“John! Oh—my good brother! Hello, hello, it’s been three months, and you’re still as young, handsome, and robust as ever!”
In a corner of the venue, two young men embraced each other with fervent excitement.
To an outsider, they might have appeared to be close friends, yet in reality, just three months prior, they had merely exchanged a few words at a noble banquet.
Calling them acquaintances would have been a stretch, let alone intimates.
Their reasons for this display were manifold, undoubtedly. However, it was undeniable that amidst this bustling [gathering], they were far from isolated cases.
The saying, ‘Where there are people, there is intrigue; where there are nobles and merchants, there are transactions,’ proved entirely true.
Most of the attendees were second-generation elites, their positions secured by hereditary privilege. Few among them possessed genuine talent, but when it came to social maneuvering, they truly shone!
The air was filled with an unending torrent of flattery, idle chatter, and absurd pronouncements, much like a surging river.
Clearly, this had transformed into a temporary [noble networking banquet]. Nobles sought out agreeable companions, while merchants eyed powerful aristocrats, hoping to forge connections and secure patronage.
****
“What a noisy bunch of fellows…”
Lounging in the [VIP box] on the second floor of the auction hall was a young man with short golden hair and an incredibly handsome, sunny demeanor. Though his smiling face betrayed no hint of malice, he exuded an aura of inherent authority, commanding respect without needing to assert it.
Leaning back in his chair, the young prince gracefully lifted a glass of red wine from the table. He sipped it elegantly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd below with a hint of mockery in his tone.
“Cyborn, how much longer until the auction begins?” the young prince quietly asked a burly figure beside him, a man towering around two and a half meters tall.
Two old scars marred Cyborn’s face from battles long past, giving him a somewhat fearsome appearance. From a distance, the middle-aged giant resembled nothing less than a raging beast, capable of making onlookers’ legs tremble with a mere glance.
“Reporting, Your Highness. If my timing is correct, it should be starting now…”
Clang, clang, clang—
Indeed, just as Cyborn had stated, a stir rippled through the hall below.
Then, a portly, middle-aged man with a prominent belly, his face beaming, stepped onto the auction stage. Several attendants followed closely behind him.
“Welcome, everyone! I am Ebola, President of the Merchant Guild. I am truly grateful that so many esteemed nobles and magnates have taken time from their busy schedules to attend this auction, hosted by the Guilan Merchant Guild, here in Volantis City. On behalf of the Volantis branch of the Guilan Merchant Guild, I extend my most sincere greetings to you all!”
The hall erupted in a thunderous wave of applause.
“What a tedious and clumsy performance…”
The young prince clearly disliked such affected theatrics. He yawned, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over him.
“Now then… let us immediately proceed to today’s main event! The first item up for auction is a green crystal dagger, personally wielded by the kingdom’s renowned general [xxx] over 300 years ago! Legend has it that [xxx] once used it to defeat a fearsome demonic dragon! Its immense value is undeniable! And so, the starting bid is 20,000 gold coins!”
“Heh heh…” The young prince chuckled upon hearing this, raising his glass to sip his red wine. Without turning his head, he slowly inquired, “Cyborn, what do you think of that dagger?”
Cyborn remained standing impassively, though his eyes gleamed with disdain. “Ridiculous. Utterly preposterous. Such a piece of junk couldn’t even scratch a dragon’s claw!”
“Hahahahaha—”
The young prince’s laughter grew louder. He then picked up another glass, poured it seven-tenths full with red wine, and offered it to Cyborn.
“Here, a reward for you. Don’t be shy.”
“Thank you for the wine, Your Highness!” Without any pretense, Cyborn directly took the glass and tilted his head back, draining it in a single gulp.
The young prince shook his head repeatedly, a helpless smile on his face. “Red wine is meant to be savored. Drinking it like plain water, Cyborn, is quite uncouth. Sometimes, interactions between people aren’t as straightforward as slaying a dragon.”
“It matters not. It is enough for Cyborn to pledge loyalty to Your Highness for life. As Your Highness’s sharp sword for vanquishing foes, superfluous emotions are useless…”
Before he could finish, a flicker of unconcealable surprise crossed Cyborn’s otherwise expressionless face, a face that usually remained stoic even if a mountain crumbled before it. His gaze fixed on the auction hall.
Specifically, on a blue figure who had just entered and was lingering by the entrance.
“Hmm? What is it?” The young prince, seeing Cyborn’s reaction, felt a pang of confusion. If his memory served him right, the last time he’d seen Cyborn like this was when the man had single-handedly faced thousands of demonic beasts.
Following Cyborn’s gaze, the young prince also spotted the blue figure. A half-smile played on his lips as he remarked, “So, Cyborn, you *can* be moved by emotion! Have you taken a liking to her? Perhaps this prince could play matchmaker for the two of you?”
Cyborn’s expression grew even graver at the prince’s words. He spoke with a serious tone, “Your Highness, let us keep such talk private. If that girl were to overhear it, the consequences would likely be dire…”