The following day, I left Luciene alone to rest and went out into the city streets. I had come to this city for two reasons: to grow stronger before entering the academy, and to resolve Baroness Catherinne's problem.
But now that I had completed the task assigned by fate, I was no longer certain whether it was worth wasting my time on Baroness Catherinne.
What occupied my mind instead was what the next fate-bound task would be. Unlike the pointless errands tied to a foolish girl's emotions, I hoped that this time it would be something more sensible. Of course, that also meant it would likely be far more difficult.
For the moment, the system was silent. That silence meant I still had time.
I spent the entire day wandering the city, gathering information. In a city overflowing with merchants and beggars alike, information was not particularly hard to come by.
When evening fell, the city took on an entirely different face.
The streets that surged with noise during the day surrendered to whispers and covert dealings with the coming of night. Streetlights struck the stone walls, casting shadows that seemed longer and more menacing than their owners. Guided by what I had learned, I headed toward the western part of the city, an area where the upper class and criminals rarely crossed paths.
The auction house was unmistakable even from a distance. From the outside, it resembled a merchant hall, but the guards at the entrance and the seals above the door made it clear that this was no ordinary establishment.
The moment I stepped inside, I felt assessing gazes fall upon me. No one asked who I was. They wouldn't. I took a pouch from my pocket and placed it before the attendant behind the desk.
"For… more exclusive items," I said, my tone short and precise.
The attendant opened the pouch and checked its contents. His eyebrows lifted, almost imperceptibly. He then nodded.
"This is sufficient for the VIP auction," he said. "Please, follow me."
We passed through a narrow, dimly lit corridor. The walls were lined with sound-absorbing fabric; this was a place where secrecy was enforced even by architecture. We stopped before a door. When we entered, the room was nearly empty. A small table stood in the center, and upon it lay a black mask.
The attendant picked up the mask and offered it to me with both hands.
"This mask protects your identity and status," he said with mechanical seriousness. "Within this building, no one may touch you, question who you are, or target you."
I took the mask in my hands. It was cold and strangely heavy.
"However," the attendant continued, his tone unchanged, "the moment the auction ends, this protection is lifted. Once you leave the building, your safety is entirely your own responsibility."
That single sentence perfectly summarized everything about this place.
I put on the mask. My field of vision did not narrow, yet the world felt distant, as though I were observing it from behind a veil. The attendant opened the door and ushered me inside.
The VIP gallery overlooked the main hall from above. Behind thick glass, masked figures sat in orderly rows. Whispers, restrained breaths, and desires measured in gold hung in the air. Some of the items to be sold here were for power, some for pleasure, and some were simply unnecessary.
I took a seat and looked down.
The platform below, where the first item of the night would be displayed, was still empty. That alone told me the night would be long. VIP auctions were never rushed; everything was steeped in anticipation, the buyers' minds slowly prepared.
The seats beside me were occupied, yet no one looked at anyone else. If even the faintest sense of familiarity appeared in someone's gaze, the very meaning of this building would collapse.
In the main hall below, an attendant rang a bell, calling for silence. Conversations ceased instantly. A figure in a black robe then stepped onto the podium. His voice was neither magical nor theatrical, and that was deliberate.
The first item was ordinary. A rare potion formula. Effective, but not unique. The price rose and it was sold within a few rounds. Who bought it and why did not matter.
The second item was a weapon. Ancient runes were carved into it, but it was flawed. Powerful, yes but the kind that slowly consumed its wielder. It drew interest, though the bids were cautious.
I watched. I waited.
What I was truly looking for was something else. Power. A leap forward before entering the academy. If the system remained silent, then this was a step I had to take myself.
When the third item was presented, the atmosphere in the hall changed.
The attendants carrying it moved with greater care. At first glance, the object placed on the platform seemed unimpressive: a small, dark, unmarked box. Yet several people in the VIP gallery subtly shifted their posture. I felt it too.
This was more than an object.
"Source verified," said the robed man. "Limited use. Permanent effect."
The lid of the box was opened. Inside lay a small crystal. It seemed to absorb light, darkening the space around it ever so slightly without shining.
A power core.
Its exact nature was not explained. It never would be. Such things were not sold by name, but by outcome.
The bidding began.
The numbers rose rapidly. At a certain point, the buyers in the main hall dropped out. This item had never been meant for them. The real battle was between the VIP boxes.
I remained silent. Until the very end.
When the price reached a dangerous threshold, a few more bidders withdrew. Only two remained. One was seated several rows ahead of me. The other was in a VIP box across the glass, someone whose face I could not see.
I hesitated.
That crystal could provide a rapid increase in power. But at what cost? Loss of control? Side effects? Or something worse? Even now, the system remained silent. No warning. No encouragement. I chose to stay silent as well.
The final bid came from the opposite side. After a brief pause, the bell rang.
"Sold," said the robed man.
The crystal, sealed once more in its box, was handed to the attendant of the winner. Their identity remained unknown, but someone who acquired such an item rarely finished the night without incident. Some postures in the VIP gallery relaxed; others grew more rigid. Some were disappointed, while others were relieved that a danger had passed them by.
I leaned back into my seat.
I had not obtained what I wanted. But I had not made a mistake either.
The auction continued with a few more items: a piece of soul-reinforced armor, a missing volume of a forbidden spellbook, the blood of an unidentified creature. All were intriguing, yet none drew my interest. It was still early in the evening, and we were approaching the section of the auction reserved exclusively for VIP members and closed to the public.
The main hall was gradually cleared. Buyers assigned to the public portion were directed to different exits with a single gesture from an attendant. No one protested. No one lingered. Everyone who came here had accepted the rules from the beginning.
In the VIP gallery, no one stood up.
If anything, the atmosphere grew heavier. Whispers ceased entirely. Some things that were to be presented could now only be described as "illegal".
The robed man stepped away from the podium. In his place stood an older man with his face uncovered. He bore no insignia or symbols, which was proof that he belonged to those who did not need them.
"From this point onward," he said calmly but clearly, "nothing presented will be recorded. What you see, hear, and do here remains with you alone."
A brief pause.
"As for those who violate the rules… only the gods can save you."
No one in the VIP gallery reacted. The man's bold words seemed to be informing us rather than threatening us.
When the first private item was brought out, it became immediately clear why this segment was closed to the public.
A young man was led onto the platform in chains. He was conscious. His eyes did not hold fear, but suppressed rage. He had no slave mark, which was proof that he was no ordinary human.
"Captured on border," the older man said. "His blood… is not pure."
That sentence drew the attention of several VIPs. Mine included.
Half-blood. However, the exact type was intentionally left unsaid because it was the determining factor of the price. A tail hanging behind him was concealed, and some kind of headwear obscured other features, making it difficult to identify his race. Magical affinity, elemental compatibility, and ritual suitability all depended on what the buyer was looking for..
The bids came. Cold. Calculated. Inhuman.
I watched. I did not intervene.
The second item was a packet of sealed parchments containing information. The contents were not stated outright, but it was implied that they concerned the hidden lineage of a noble house. The kind of knowledge that could open certain doors at the academy. It drew interest, but it was risky. Information like that had a short shelf life.
I continued to wait.
When the third item was announced, my heart beat more carefully, of its own accord.
It was not an object.
It was not a person.
It was a contract.