The first item up for auction was a large ruby, put forward by the local fence.
Needless to say, it didn’t have any special effects, but its impressive looks alone were enough to spark a fierce bidding war among the women in the crowd.
“Eight gold coins!”
“I’ll buy it for sixteen!”
“Then twenty!”
As the price soared ever higher, Lancelot frowned in disbelief. “Since when does a single ruby cost as much as a commoner’s house?”
“Well, that’s how luxury goods work, isn’t it?” I replied.
“Even so, isn’t that a bit much? It’s stolen anyway. They could at least let it go for less.” Lancelot grumbled under his breath.
The coachman, who’d been trembling beside us like a leaf in a gale, cautiously spoke up. “Some of those bidders are probably hired by the auction house.”
“What?”
“Well, if they didn’t do that, the price of stolen goods would drop too low.”
I nodded at the coachman’s words. He was right.
No matter how expensive something was, stolen goods never fetched their full price. And since the profits had to be split between the fence and the auction house, sometimes they’d actually lose money if things sold too cheaply.
So the auction house would slip a few of their own people into the crowd to nudge the prices up—just to keep the competition lively.
I observed the coachman with a hint of surprise. Just a moment ago, the man had acted like he’d never set foot in a place like this, yet he was rather well-versed in the black market’s ecosystem.
Seems he’s picked up a thing or two in the field.
Probably learned it the hard way.
I nodded in agreement and spoke up. “He’s right. Numbers 36, 78, and 112 are probably with the auction house.”
“Huh? How do you know that?” Lancelot asked.
“Every time the bidding stalls, they jump in at just the right moment. And they never forget to throw in a mocking grin for good measure.”
“You were watching all that?!”
I responded with a short, dry laugh. “It’s just obvious. Unlike you, sir knight, I have a good span of attention.”
“…Damn.” Lancelot stuck out his lower lip sulkily.
While I was busy teasing Lancelot, the auction continued. Before I realized it, only two items remained.
“Now, before we get to the real highlight of the evening! How about we take a short break?” The auctioneer gestured grandly to the crowd with an exaggerated flourish.
A break… No doubt, the “highlight” they mentioned was exactly the item I had in mind.
Martin and Makio, both sitting there grumbling like old cats, were probably after it too.
Everyone here tonight is probably after that one thing.
I cast a fleeting glance over at Martin.
On stage, the auctioneer was clapping, trying to drum up some enthusiasm from the audience.
“First, this item here—no one knows how to use it, but that’s what makes it a true antique! We’ll start the bidding at just 10 silver!!”
With a shout, the auctioneer whipped away the cloth.
Beneath it sat a thimble that looked as though it had soaked up centuries.
Its color had faded as far as colors can fade, and it had the kind of antique dignity that only the very old might appreciate.
The rest of the crowd, upon seeing the thimble, began to grumble half-heartedly.
“Ugh… What is that supposed to be?”
“Who’d buy something like that?”
The reactions were uniformly unimpressed, as if they’d just seen someone try to auction off a bit of rubbish found on the roadside.
“Haha… Any bids? Anyone at all?” the auctioneer asked, sweat breaking out. He seemed genuinely surprised that there might not be a single buyer.
“Hello…? Anyone?” the auctioneer tried again.
Still, no one in the crowd responded.
But then—
…Why is that here?
I looked at the auctioneer, my face the very picture of disbelief. More precisely, I stared at the thimble the auctioneer was pointing to.
I quickly raised my paddle to start the bidding.
The auctioneer, noticing me at last, brightened up and called out, “Oh! We have a bidder! 10 silver! Anyone for more than 10 silver?”
The auctioneer’s question fluttered about the auction house like a moth searching for a lightbulb, but not a single person bothered to answer.
Instead, the only response I got was a chorus of snickers aimed in my direction. Yes, the sort of looks that said, “Whatever in the world are you going to do with that?”
But I paid no mind to the opinions of such imbeciles. My gaze remained glued to the thimble.
I don’t know why that’s here, but I have to get it. No matter what.
There was a reason I was so determined to get my hands on that thimble.
That was the Thimble of the Divine Archer.
The Divine Archer—my mentor—had once used that very thimble. In my previous life, he’d been positively giddy when he managed to reclaim it.
Apparently, the thimble had failed to sell here and eventually made its way back to the Divine Archer, after a few detours and a lot of dust.
Or maybe someone actually bought it here, and it ended up with him that way.
I gave a careless flick of my fingers, as if none of this really mattered.
That timeline had vanished anyway. The important thing now wasn’t “Why is it here?” but “How do I get it?”
To everyone else, the Thimble of the Divine Archer was just another old trinket. But for me, it was one of the rare ways to gain a skill.
Last time, I got Full Bloom.
So what skill would I get this time?
Happy daydreams began to blossom in my mind.
I kept my face blank, silently praying that no one else would raise their paddle.
Just then, someone raised a paddle.
“One gold.”
The auction house immediately erupted into low, incredulous murmurs.
“One gold? For that?”
“Has he lost his mind?”
Then, a few people, suddenly struck by the possibility that the thimble might actually be worth something, started eyeing it with a glint of interest.
…Damn it.
I quickly turned to see who had raised the paddle.
It was a figure swaddled in a robe, hood pulled low and looking only forward. I couldn’t even tell if they were a man or a woman, which made me frown.
Suddenly, my mind was a tangle of questions.
Did that person know what the thimble really was?
Or were they just a shill, hired by the auction house to drive up the price?
Just as my thoughts were starting to get tangled, the auctioneer beamed a dazzling smile and opened their mouth. “One gold! We have a bid of one gold! Anyone care to go higher?”
I groaned upon catching sight of the auctioneer’s expression.
That was no fake smile. If it was, then the auctioneer was wasted on this job and should have been headlining a theatre troupe.
Which meant, by the ironclad logic of deduction, that the robed figure wasn’t some shill hired by the auction house after all.
Damn it, I haven’t got a clue.
With a sigh, I raised my paddle and called out, “One gold, fifty silver.”
“Yes, sir! If there are no other bids—!”
“Three gold.” The robed figure cut off the auctioneer, raising their paddle.
The auctioneer’s grin stretched so wide it threatened to escape the confines of their face.
Clearly, the bidding had already soared past whatever paltry sum the organizers had expected. This meant a nice little bonus for the auctioneer, too.
But none of that mattered to me.
What mattered was that an item I could have bought for ten silver had just leapt to three gold.
…Not that I’m exactly short on cash, honestly.
I had my family’s money, plus the gold I’d won at the gambling den. A staggering sum—fifteen million gold, to be exact.
That was enough to spend the rest of my life in idle luxury, if I so desired. Three gold was pocket change.
But, alas, every coin had its purpose.
I still have to present a tribute to the Emperor, and traveling to the port city isn’t cheap. More importantly… The real highlight comes after this.
Truthfully, everything else was negotiable. There were countless ways to make more money.
Money for the Emperor? I could earn it.
Travel expenses? Also earnable.
With enough schemes, I could make even fifteen million gold look like a mere trifle.
But the problem was the item coming up after the thimble—the main event. That one would require a mountain of gold to win.
Frankly, fifteen million gold is more than enough to buy it…
But life, as always, had a habit of laughing at your plans.
I wanted to keep the fifteen million gold untouched, safely tucked away as military funds.
So what does that leave me with? Sixty gold in my pocket?
I let out a sigh and fixed my gaze on the Thimble of the Divine Archer.
Could I really buy that thing for sixty gold or less?
If worst comes to worst, I’ll have to dip into the family coffers.
Lately, I’d been making rather frequent withdrawals from the bank, but I figured I could always sneak the money back in later.
Hoping the next auction wouldn’t demand a king’s ransom, I raised my paddle.
“Five gold.”
“Seven gold.”
“Ten gold.”
“Fifteen gold.”
“Twenty gold.”
The bidding war between me and the robed figure began to stir the crowd.
My companions were no exception.
Only the auctioneer was smiling gleefully.
But then, the robed figure shot me a sidelong glance and lifted their paddle. “Twenty gold, thirty silver.”
Suddenly, the bidding increments shrank to the size of a miser’s generosity.
That’s when I realized—that was the highest raise they could manage.
“Twenty-three gold.” I raised my paddle and looked them straight in the eye.
As expected, the robed figure stared back for a moment, then slowly lowered their paddle.
“If there are no further bids—!” The auctioneer, grinning like the happiest fellow in the world, brought the gavel down.
It was a bigger hit to my wallet than I’d hoped, but still, getting the Divine Archer’s artifact for just twenty-three gold was a bargain.
I’d braced myself for hundreds, at least. Dodged a bullet there.
I shot a glance at the robed figure, then turned my attention back to the auctioneer.
Beside me, Lancelot was muttering about wasting money on such nonsense, but a little smack from Kai silenced him in an instant.
The auctioneer paused for a sip of water, then resumed with renewed enthusiasm.
“Thank you all for waiting! The moment you’ve all been waiting and waiting for! It’s time for the highlight of tonight’s auction!”
“Wooooaaaah!”
“Just get on with it already!”
The crowd erupted in a chorus of shouts, each more eager than the last. The air was thick with excitement.
Somewhere in that feverish chaos, tense music began to play, followed by what sounded like a drum roll.
Dum-dum-dum-dum!
Beneath a fanfare of jaunty music and a riot of dazzling lights, the auctioneer whipped the cloth off the next item.
As the cloth fell away, it revealed a transparent glass bottle cradling a crimson liquid.
“Oooh!”
“Is that it?”
The crowd, as one, exhaled a collective gasp of awe.
Not a single soul asked what it was. And really, why would they? Everyone here tonight had come for this very item.
Well—everyone except my own party, who were still in the dark.
“…What’s got everyone so worked up?” Lancelot murmured.
Before I could answer, the auctioneer leapt in, eager to provide an explanation.
“Thank you for your patience! The highlight of tonight’s auction! The legendary Elixir of the Ages! The fabled Supreme Elixir, said to elevate any Aura Adept’s mastery to the next level! The stuff of myth, now uncorked before your very eyes!”
It was a Supreme Elixir. As an Elixir of the Ages, it was the very solution to my most pressing problem: the chronic shortage of Aura.
“Five hundred gold!”
“Six hundred gold!”
“Eight hundred fifty gold!”
“One thousand five hundred gold!”
The bidding caught fire, and the auctioneer fanned the flames with ever-quickening calls for higher offers.
Soon, the numbers soared past ten thousand gold.
“From here on, bids will increase in increments of one thousand gold!”
The auction house blazed with excitement once more.
Ten thousand became a hundred thousand, and before long, the bids had rocketed past a million gold.
But just as the auctioneer was about to bring some semblance of order to the chaos—I raised my paddle before they could even finish their sentence.
“One hundred million.”