Though he could only hear the host’s voice, Atticus could feel the tension mounting in the room, the energy of countless wills pressing in, every contender unwilling to back down.
The host looked like he was basking in the frenzy. His smile only grew wider as he raised his hand high.
"Eight thousand high grade will stones!" he announced. Multiple booths lit up.
"Eight thousand five!"
"Nine thousand!"
The air seed to thrum. Atticus unease grew. They had resources, yes, but there were so many willing to bleed this much for a vein root. What if they couldn’t afford to get the item?
Then the host’s voice bood again, echoing across the grand hall.
"Twenty thousand high grade will stones!"
Atticus narrowed his eyes. They’d gotten to that level already? The bidding had reached a different level entirely.
’We only have thirty thousand.’
Of course, thirty thousand will stone wasn’t all they had. They had acquired hundreds of thousands from Nerrot’s world, but unfortunately, the high grade will stones, which was what the auction house accepted, were only thirty thousand.
However, in a fortunate turn of events, it would seem as though Atticus wasn’t the only one taken aback by the number.
Of the nurous booths he had seen light up earlier, only a handful had bid.
’Just three.’
"Twenty one thousand!" The host’s voice bood, and Atticus watched the three booths lt up once more.
"Twenty two thousand!"
The three booths lit up once more.
"Twenty three thousand...!"
Three lights. The sa thing repeated itself until the bid reached twenty five thousand. One dropped, leaving only two.
The two fought to outbid each other until the bid got to twenty seven thousand high grade will stones. One more dropped leaving only one.
Until now, Atticus hadn’t bided once. And as the host voice rang out.
"Twenty eight thousand five," his voice bood as though begging people to accept. "Twenty eight thousand five, anyone?"
Atticus pressed the bidding button, and his booth lit up. Though the host eyes imdiately lit up with excitent at the new bidder, Atticus felt eyes on their booth almost instantly.
Piercing, cold. It ca from multiple booths, many curious. But the coldest stare ca from the one booth that had been about to win before he bid.
Atticus ignored every single one of them. They couldn’t see him, anyway.
"Twenty nine thousand high grade will stones!"
A pause, and Atticus saw the sa booth lighting up. He also clicked his bidding button.
"Twenty nine thousand five!"
Once more, both booths lit up.
"Thirty thousand!"
’Shit.’ Atticus cursed as he saw the booth light up.
’This is our last bid.’ He realized.
He turned to Whisker. "Any ideas?"
Whisker shrugged. "None. But don’t worry, if worse cos to worse, we just steal it."
Atticus didn’t like the sound of that. First neither of them could see through the booth and identify their competitors. Even if they did, what if it was soone they couldn’t handle?
’Who the hell has thirty thousand high grade will stones...’
To his limited knowledge, a single high grade will stone could buy an entire country on earth. Its value was truly imnse. To get his, he had to rob an entire world.
Atticus sighed and clicked on the bidding button.
The host eyes lit up brightly. The eyes on him intensified.
"Thirty thousand five!"
There was utter silence. Neither booth lit up.
’Is that their limit too?’ Atticus couldn’t help but think his stars. Thirty thousand high grade will stones was already a lot of resources, it would make sense that it was their limit.
A minute passed, and a frown replaced the wide smile on the host’s lips. He too had obviously recognized the problem.
’A tie.’
Atticus glanced towards Whisker. "How would they solve this?"
"That’ll be up to them. But this is good news, we still have a chance to get the veinroot. Let’s hope it’s so ga, then we can kick their asses."
Atticus nodded in agreent. He just hoped whatever they decided would be sothing they could win.
The host montarily left the stage, only to return a minute later. His silk sleeves fluttered as though he was striding on wind.
His smile had returned, wider than before, his voice booming across the chamber.
"My esteed guests! The overseer himself expresses his surprise at this unexpected turn of events. Rarely does it occur that two groups reach such heights, and rarer still that neither is willing to give another inch."
"A tie... is unusual, yes. But it only proves how valuable the Veinwood is. And yet, the overseer is determined to see it go to the most worthy of hands. To settle this matter, a decision has been made."
Atticus’ eyes was calm as he waited for the man to speak.
"The way of the middle plane is simple. The strong... take all."
"Thus, both booths shall send forth a representative. There will be no long battles, no drawn out duels. Only a single clash."
"The rules are straightforward. Both representatives will collide once. The one who is pushed back, loses. The one who stands firm... wins the Veinwood."
Atticus could swear he felt the excitent radiate from Whisker and Ozeorth. The only respite was that Kancilot remained calm.
For Whisker it was an interesting show to watch. A pack of popcorn had already appeared on his arm, and he frowned at Atticus, wondering why he was still sitting here, rather than moving to the stage.
Ozeroth was excited for a different reason. This kind of challenge of pure power was what he lived for. But a frown appeared on his face as he saw Atticus standing up.
"Bond?"
"The opponent might be a god," Atticus said calmly. "We can’t risk it."
Ozeroth frowned, sighed but eventually listened. It was at that mont that a knock resounded on their door.
"Co in."
A familiar woman entered, the sa one that had led them here.
She bowed and spoke.
"I’m here to escort your chosen representative to the stage."
Atticus gave the others a quick nod before stepping out of the room.
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