Face after face twisted as the brutal truth settled in, many of them had already lost before the auction had even begun. They had spent weeks hoarding their wealth, barricading themselves inside their domains, convinced their treasures would be sufficient to buy whatever power they desired.
Now, poisoned by bitter hindsight, they cursed their own caution. They realized they should never have stayed cooped up in their homes, they should have taken the risks, hunted the blood, and seized the raw power out in the open world while they still had the chance.
The bitter sting of regret burned hottest among those who had stayed their hands out of caution. Those few paragons who wore raw, unfiltered greed on their faces were the ones who held actual law shards in their hands, to them, the towers felt close, just an arms reach away, because the true currency required was not mere gold or mortal artifacts, but that which they hold.
