Chapter 76: Auction
Hours drifted by before a soft knock echoed against the wooden door. Raven stirred, opening one eye.
"The door is open. Come in."
"Yes, My Lord."
Jacob stepped through, carrying a Gladstone bag that creaked under its weight. He reached Raven, offering the bag first, then a folded paper and a ticket with Raven's name inked in sharp letters.
"I put the vial for auction and registered two seats for us, My Lord. As for the other items, I sold all the materials for reasonable prices."
Raven unlatched the bag. Two large leather pouches waited inside. One spilled with platinum coins, cool and heavy in his hands. The other sagged under gold coins, five kilograms of clinking metal.
"70 Platinum coins, huh?" He weighed the pouch, then turned to the gold. "How many gold coins are there?"
"340 gold coins, My Lord. In total, all those items sold for 7340 gold coins."
Raven plucked a coin and flicked it toward Jacob. The sharp metallic ring echoed faintly in the room.
"Not bad."
He slid the pouches and bag into the inventory, fingers lingering on the leather before closing it.
"Inform me two hours before the auction begins. Until then, I'll be staying indoors."
"Yes, My Lord." Jacob bowed and left, footsteps soft on the polished floor.
Raven unfolded the paper. Lines of items spread out in neat ink: Phantom Compass, Basilisk Fangs, Thunderbird Feather… Rank-2 Flame Wyvern's Horn, Rank-1 Ice Wyrm's Elemental Crystal…
His eyes paused at the mention of the Ice Wyrm's corpse.
'Subspecies of Wyvern, residents of icy mountains.'
[Ice Wyrm is part of the Dragon species, so you might gain useful abilities.] Zera's voice cut through his thoughts.
Others caught his attention—corpses of magical beasts, none recommended, affinities common or unsuitable. He rolled the paper and stored it in a drawer, entering the Memory Library.
Inside the memory library, he memorized everything about the second circlet. Then he entered the Mind Space. The dark void embraced him, punctuated by hexagonal stars hovering silently.
He chose the next section. The Poison Elemental Circlet. Hexagons took shape, runes spread like a web beneath his fingers. When completed, the circlet exhaled dense purplish energy, a dark pulse toward the void sky, drawing the poison touch spell model into its center.
Raven's hands hovered. Luck. The third circlet.
"Hmm, unlike other elements, it's impossible to gather luck from the mana in the atmosphere," he murmured. The book's instructions flitted through his memory: help others, become renowned, or steal luck from them.
[Taking people's good luck can backfire, lad. My owner always did that.]
"I must understand the power of luck, then. How does luck exist? Isn't everything that happens just a matter of probability?" he whispered inwardly.
[No. For example, a wealthy noble lady strolled on the street while carrying a pouch full of gold coins. As she was humming and sightseeing the street stalls and people, she didn't see a gold coin slip away and fall on the ground. Behind her, a carriage came and rode on the coin, covering it with a layer of sand. After that, there were lots of people who walked on the same path, but none managed to find it due to the sand covering it. But when a wind blows just as the beggar closes, he saw the coin glittering due to the morning sun. That's what luck is. Multiple events lead to a fateful change in one's life. If that is not called Luck, what is?]
'True. My luck spell indeed defies common sense.' Raven muttered.
[Magic itself defies common sense. Luck can turn disaster into fortune. Use it wisely; it becomes a trump card.]
Raven traced golden runes through the void. Circles, words, intricate patterns. Two hours later, the third circlet absorbed the golden spell model into the array.
Pain lanced across his temples. A sharp, almost physical shove. The Mind Space vanished.
"What happened?" he gasped, blinking into the darkening room.
[You overused your spirit power. Rest until morning.] Zera advised.
He rose, eyes adjusting to the twilight creeping through the windows. The day had surrendered to evening. Raven's stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten. Downstairs, he found Jacob and Stephine waiting, the aroma of fried chicken drawing him forward.
"Did Selene come out of her room?" he asked, tearing a wing from the plate.
"No, My Lord. She left a note saying two spell models were successfully constructed. She'll come out before evening."
"Good." He handed Stephine a few coins. "Buy salted beef, bacon, smoked meat. We'll cook in the railway kitchen. I won't touch their dry bread and boiled vegetables."
"But it'll spoil in a few hours, My Lord." Stephine's smile was polite, strained.
Raven waved, already moving toward the corridor.
Morning arrived with sharp clarity. At 8:30 A.M., a knock came. Raven wore a black double-breasted coat, a white vest, polished shoes, a top hat low on his head, and a monocle in place. Jacob followed, bowler hat snug. Stephine wore her simple housemaid dress.
"Did Selene come out?" Raven asked again.
"Not yet, My Lord."
'Well, she will be okay on her own.' Raven muttered.
He handed coins to Stephine. "While we attend the auction, buy food for our travel."
They descended quietly. The carriage carried them to Moon Street. The Seven Calls auction house loomed, polished marble pillars, arched windows reflecting the sun. Guards with golden seven-pointed stars scanned the street.
"They put Radiant Knights as gatekeepers?" Raven muttered, frown tightening.
"Second Son of Lucus Thornevale oversees this auction. Overbearing pressure. I'd bet he's above Expert Rank." Jacob replied.
The carriage stopped. Raven stepped down, opening the door first. They approached the entrance silently.
Inside, the foyer smelled of polished wood and faint incense. A tall man with slicked-back hair greeted them with a deep bow.
"Welcome to the Seven Calls auction house, gentlemen. How may I help you?"
"We are here to participate in the auction." Raven produced the tickets and the badge.
"Reserved seats are ready," the man said, motioning toward a side entrance. Velvet drapes, paintings, and golden chandeliers guided their steps.
The auction hall opened. Elevated stage, podium, semi-circle of seats, VIP balconies above.
"F12 and F13, Sir," the man said.
Guests arrived in waves. Noble attire, merchant coats, Knights' armor, and Wizards' robes filled the room.
10:30 A.M.
The portly auctioneer ascended the podium, handlebar mustache twitching.
"Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen!" His voice boomed, silencing murmurs. "Rare, powerful, mysterious items from the Agith Ruins await. Let us begin."
The first item appeared—a black compass with a faint glow. Velvet cushion, all eyes fixed.
"Our first item is a Phantom Compass. Does not point north, but deeper into the woods. Past attempts ended in failure… starting bid, 500 gold coins."
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Raven leaned back, touching his monocle.