The entire auction chamber trembled under a soundless pressure. The light of the Pseudo-Eye Artifact rippled through its endless constellations like a storm stirring the stars. Within Kiaria's sealed chamber, the air thickened as if reality itself had stopped to breathe.
The Twin Spiritual Dragon Pearls floating above the altar began to vibrate–subtly at first, then violently, like two celestial hearts beating against the confines of their crystal shields. Their rhythmic pulses sent waves through the space, invisible yet heavy, making even the protective wards around each private domain flicker with distortion.
In Kiaria's chamber, the weight on his hand intensified. The ring that held the Rusty Cauldron grew impossibly heavy, pressing against his skin like molten stone. His veins glowed faintly blue, and his pulse struggled beneath the artifact's pressure.
"Big Sister… I–I can't move my hand," Kiaria gasped.
The Princess turned, alarm flashing across her face. The lantern in their chamber dimmed to a deep amber, warning of energy turbulence.
The Elder of the East Valley Wing mercenaries, who stood behind them, narrowed his gaze. "Kiaria," he said calmly, "hold your breath. Feel the domain of the ring. Don't resist–understand it."
Kiaria's heart pounded. The moment he focused inward, the sensation became clearer–the cauldron inside the ring wasn't still. It was alive. He felt it thrashing within the spatial pocket, ramming against the barrier like a caged beast.
A faint sound echoed inside his consciousness–a deep metallic groan, followed by the dull, repeated thud… thud… thud of impact.
Suddenly, smoke began to seep out from the spatial ring. It wasn't ordinary smoke–it was dense, blue-grey, heavy enough to crawl instead of drift. It coiled downward and spread across the marble floor like mist from another world.
Everyone in the chamber froze.
"What is that…?" Diala whispered, her fox cub arching its back and growling softly.
The smoke glowed faintly as if carrying light within darkness. The air filled with a humming resonance, low and otherworldly. The cauldron, still trapped inside the ring, clanged louder–its inner inscriptions blazing like awakening runes.
"It's… trying to come out," the Elder murmured, astonished. "The spatial barrier can't contain it anymore."
At the same moment, the Twin Spiritual Dragon Pearls on the altar began to thrash within their shield. Their brilliance surged, reflecting two roaring dragons twisting inside the transparent shell. Lightning veins cracked across the altar's protective layer.
In other isolated chambers, nobles and cultivators looked on in panic. They couldn't see what was happening elsewhere, but the artifact's energy pulsed through every chamber in rhythm with the pearls' violent resonance.
"Is it breaking the altar?" someone exclaimed within their domain."It's malfunctioning–too unstable!" another shouted."The pearls are impure–reject them before it's too late!"
Each room filled with nervous murmurs. No one dared to bid. The Twin Spiritual Dragon Pearls, once revered, now radiated danger that few wished to touch.
The Elder's voice remained calm amidst the chaos. "Kiaria, this is your chance. Look–no bid is shown on the altar. That means no one dares to claim it. The pearls are free for the taking."
"But…" Diala hesitated, her eyes darting between Kiaria and the trembling altar. "It's dangerous!"
The Elder chuckled softly. "Fortune never visits the timid."
Kiaria drew a slow breath, his expression hardening. "Then let it be mine."
He pressed his hand against the glowing ring, forcing his spiritual sense through the turbulent energy. The smoke thickened instantly; it swirled around his arm like a storm obeying his will. The pearls flickered in reply, their light intertwining with the glow from the smoke.
The altar's shield cracked once, releasing a resonant clang that echoed across all realms of the Pseudo-Eye Artifact. The bidding screen before him shimmered, displaying the automatic base value.
[105 million spirit jades and 5 General Beast Cores]
"Bid," said the Elder.
Kiaria didn't hesitate. "Confirmed."
The lantern in his chamber flashed crimson, then gold. Silence filled the halls.
No other light flickered. No voice answered. No other bid followed.
And then, as if acknowledging fate, the altar's glow collapsed into itself. The Twin Spiritual Dragon Pearls vanished from the auction house, reappearing instantly within Kiaria's sealed domain. The energy stabilised; the smoke sank into his ring like water returning to its source.
"Unbelievable…" whispered the Princess, her expression caught between awe and disbelief. "You actually got it–for such a small bid."
Kiaria's breath trembled. The heaviness on his hand eased, replaced by a strange warmth spreading through his veins. The cauldron inside the ring quieted, its rebellious strikes softening into rhythmic vibrations–like a creature falling asleep.
The Elder smiled faintly. "Now, draw the cauldron into your consciousness. Rebuild it there, not in the physical realm. The pearls' essence will guide the process."
Kiaria nodded. He crossed his legs and the ringed finger touched on his forehead scar. A luminous sigil bloomed beneath him, sealing his chamber from interference. He closed his eyes.
Within his spiritual sea, the Rusty Cauldron floated amid a blue haze. The runes covering its surface were flickering, shedding fragments of rust that turned into light. The moment he focused, streams of faint silver energy–like water drawn from the moon–flowed from the dragon pearls hovering above. They wrapped around the cauldron, cleansing and reforging it.
For a time, nothing else existed but the soundless hum of transformation. Then, with a blinding flash, the cauldron shrank–its jagged cracks sealed, its body gleaming faintly.
–
Meanwhile, in the hall beyond, the auction continued as if nothing had happened.
The failed items–those rejected or withdrawn earlier–began to reappear on the altar one by one. The vine lantern above the auction throne flickered, reigniting with fresh brilliance.
A deep, mechanical voice echoed across every sealed chamber:
[Re-auction begins. Item: Soul Guide Book. Starting bid–70 million spirit jades and 1 General Beast Core.]
The Soul Guide Book hovered above the altar, its pages turning slowly, shedding soft silver light. The moment its presence filled the hall, the bidding began again–soft at first, then wild.
"Seventy-one million.""Seventy-two.""Eighty.""Ninety!""Hundred!"
Each increase came faster than the last. The pattern broke into chaos. The number of bidders grew beyond count.
"One fifty!""Two hundred!""Two seventy-five!"
The green crystal bowls in countless rooms glowed crimson as bidders risked everything to keep pace. The walls trembled from the spiritual tension of greed.
Finally, a voice–deeper than the rest, commanding and composed–cut through the storm. Even though voice echoed only in their own rooms, the price tag was enough to shake the participants.
"Four hundred million spirit jades and five Marshal Beast Cores."
The bidding froze. Silence fell across every domain.
Even through the isolating barriers, everyone could feel it–the weight behind that voice. Power that could not be measured.
Whispers broke out behind the walls.
"Five Marshal Cores… who would spend that much?""That's insanity!""No… that's authority.""Could it be one of the Immortal Envoys?"
The bidding ended there. The golden light returned to the altar.
And though the artifact's rules hid the winner's identity, whispers persisted across every chamber long after the item vanished.
In truth, the one who claimed it was indeed an Immortal Venerable Envoy–a messenger of the Palace, watching the lower realms from behind veils of eternity. His name, however, never appeared.
Mystery hung in the air like mist.
–
Moments later, the vine lantern brightened again.
[Next item–Kerenal Flame Chime.]No base price. Free bid.
The chime appeared once more, its silver bells faintly glowing.
But not a single voice answered.
Ten seconds.Thirty seconds.A minute.
Nothing.
The light dimmed and dispersed.
[Item rejected. Auction concluded.]
The altar's glow faded. The vast spatial hall began to hum–a sign that the Pseudo-Eye Artifact was closing its inner domain.
Beams of light opened across every chamber. Teleportation arrays ignited beneath each guest's feet.
One by one, the participants vanished.
When Kiaria opened his eyes, everything was quiet. The altar had long vanished. The auction was over.
He blinked, confused–the air was warm, not dense, and the scent of burning incense was gone. The soft light spilling across the tent walls told him he was no longer inside the artifact.
He was back in the army camp.
He tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy, drained.
"When did I come back?" he murmured to himself, pressing his temple.
Before he could stand, a voice called softly beside him. "You woke up."
Diala sat by his side, eyes red from sleeplessness. Her fox cub yawned quietly in her lap. "How do you feel now?" she asked, her voice trembling with relief.
Kiaria looked at her, confused. His vision blurred slightly; dizziness clouded his thoughts. Before he could reply, his strength failed. He collapsed back onto the bed.
"Kiaria!" Diala gasped, catching him. She turned and ran from the tent, calling for help.
Within moments, the brothers and the Elder arrived.
After hearing her panicked words, the Elder smiled gently. "Little girl, don't panic. He's fine."
He placed his hand above Kiaria's chest, feeling the subtle rhythm of life force beneath. "His spirit is simply exhausted. He's in recovery, not danger."
He looked up at Diala and spoke softly, the corners of his lips lifting. "Give him time. He'll wake soon enough. Believe in him. When he opens his eyes again, bring him to me. I'll examine him properly. For now–let him rest."
The camp fell silent once more, the soft whisper of wind brushing through the tent.
In the stillness of that night, the Rusty Cauldron within Kiaria's ring pulsed quietly–its glow echoing the faint hum of the dragon pearls–like destiny breathing in unison with its chosen master.