The moment the auctioneer's gavel rested against the white jade podium, the neon-green display array above the stage began to flicker rapidly as local merchants and hidden sect elders scrambled to input their opening bids.
Bidder 211: 4,100 stones.
Bidder 054: 4,300 stones.
While they had been bickering, the price war had already begun, but the steps were tiny. Seth was unfazed. He was Mr. Moneybags; he wouldn't be intimidated! With a casual, effortless flick of his thumb, trained by a life surrounded by technology and touch screens, he activated the polished jade bidding tablet resting on his knee.
With eyes trained by modern technology to instantly scan the user interface, he bypassed the standard incremental dance buttons and used the free text field to enter his own bid. The display array overhead froze for a fraction of a second, clearing out the minor bids as a new number blazed across the dark basalt theater in massive, luminous characters:
Bidder 388: 8,000 stones.
A collective murmur rippled through the lower pit. Heads turned, eyes scanning the mid-tier rows to locate the reckless bidder who had just doubled the opening price in a single breath. To drop eight thousand spirit stones on a garment- even one that could turn the wearer into mist- was a display of terrifying financial confidence.
Seth leaned back, a faint, relaxed smile playing on his lips as he looked over at Fin
"That should do the trick," he murmured softly, waiting for the auctioneer to announce his as the winning bid.
"You always do this..." she muttered, though a small, amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Down on the stage, the auctioneer's eyes widened with greedy delight. He raised his brass gavel, pointing it directly toward the display.
"Eight thousand stones from the gentleman in the middle tier! An exceptional bid for an exceptional treasure! Going once at eight thousand-"
Before the gavel could fall, a soft chime echoed from the upper ring. High above them, behind the gold-threaded gossamer curtains of a private VIP box, a glowing light flashed. The display array updated instantly:
VIP Box 4: 8,100 stones.
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting up toward the shrouded balcony. It seemed someone in the upper ranks sought a fight with Mr. Moneybags. He tapped his tablet again, his movements fluid and entirely unbothered.
Bidder 388: 9,000 stones.
Almost instantly, the VIP box countered, the response sharp and immediate, as if the bidder on the other side was growing agitated by the defiance of a common mid-tier guest.
VIP Box 4: 9,100 stones.
"They're persistent," Mina noted, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the curtains of Box 4. However, there was nothing to make out about the identity of the people in the box, not without using skills.
"Let's see how persistent," With a definitive, heavy tap of his thumb, he drove the price straight up to a nice, clean number.
Bidder 388: 10,000 stones.
The theater fell into a dead, stunned silence. Ten thousand medium-grade spirit stones for a single robe was a sum that could fund a small sect for a year. Down on the stage, the auctioneer's hand was visibly trembling with excitement as he held the gavel aloft, his eyes locked onto the glowing display, waiting to see if the wealthy elite in the VIP Box would dare to push the mysterious bidder any further.
The dead silence in the theater stretched for three long, agonizing heartbeats. High above, behind the curtains of VIP Box 4, there was no answering chime. The glowing light on the balcony remained dark, and the neon-green display array overhead stayed locked on the staggering five-digit sum.
The wealthy bidder of VIP Box 4 had officially backed off. Ten thousand spirit stones was a line they were apparently not willing to cross for a piece of silk, no matter how life-saving its enchantments were.
Down on the white-jade stage, the auctioneer looked as though he might faint from sheer professional ecstasy. He slammed his brass gavel down onto the podium with a sharp, echoing crack.
"Ten thousand spirit stones! Going once!"
Crack.
"Going twice!"
Crack.
"Sold! To the gentleman in the middle tier for ten thousand stones!"
A collective wave of whispered chatter exploded through the lower pit as merchants and mercenary captains turned in their seats to find the mysterious bidder on the floor. To throw around that kind of wealth with such casual, unblinking confidence was a trait usually reserved for the scions of great sects or ancient clans.
Seth calmly set the heavy jade bidding tablet back down on his knee, exhaling a quiet, satisfied breath. He had just burned through 100 high-grade spirit stones, about 1/8 of their current capital. Even if he could potentially trade items instead of paying cash, this was a considerable amount- and it felt exciting burning so much at once.
"Well, that was exhilarating. Can't wait for the stuff we actually came to buy," he said with a laugh.
"Thank you," the fairy said softly, genuine affection in her eyes as she leaned in closer to him. "Though you really didn't have to pay that much just to get it for me."
"Nonsense. We have more than enough money to splurge," he replied with a roguish wink.
Down on the stage, the auctioneer quickly cleared the white jade podium as the glowing numbers faded from the overhead array. There was no time for the crowd to linger on the staggering ten-thousand-stone bid; the momentum of the Grand Auction demanded absolute continuity.
Seth was ready to buy something similar for Mina, but none of the garments caught the cat girl's eyes. As such, the mid-high tier garment section passed by them. Next came the alchemical creations, a topic of slightly higher interest to the people of Minas Mar, as improving their variation of recipes meant greater potential for the future.
"We move immediately into our most anticipated segment of the afternoon," the auctioneer announced, his voice vibrating with a renewed, electric energy. "The earth-grade alchemical refinements. Many products you will see today are straight from the private chambers of the Alchemist Guild's inner circle masters!"
Two buff attendants walked onto the stage, carefully carrying a heavy bronze chest. Despite the warmth of the theater, there was frost covering the metal chest. When it was opened a brilliant, pulsing azure light and the faint smell of winter frost and crushed mint filled the theater. Inside the box, on a bed of frosted velvet, was a flawless, translucent sapphire-colored pill.
"The Frost-Core Meridian Consolidation Pill," the man proclaimed, leaning over his podium. "A high earth-grade spiritual refinement brewed using ice-lotus nectar harvested from the northern peaks, stabilized by Doushi's own volcanic minerals. For any martial artist practicing hot, volatile internal energy bla bla bla, "
The man kept glazing the products too much for Seth's taste. He gave it a once-over with
There were always some that had specific effects that were exclusive to cultivation. Disinterested, the trio watched the price soar in increments of 500 medium-grade stones. After their brief moment of excitement over the robes, their excitement faded back into a comfortable, observant lull.
The next couple of pills were useless in the same kind of way. They were all cultivator-exclusive things that could aid in cultivation, which had little worth to most players. Unless it could raise system stats, there was no point in buying it.
As such, they could only watch. It was really a shame and a blessing that the auction was so high-profile. Because of the extensive safety measures and elite guests, there was no drama to watch, like in the Blue Sparrow Auction House.
Nobody dared to boast about their names or backing to intimidate anyone, since this was literally a snake pit, where even the greatest scion of some ancient sect couldn't dare offend anyone easily. Everything went by quite...civilized. It was nice for a change, but also boring to watch.