From MC's Perspective:
As Don Blaire and his entourage strode past the second room, he suddenly paused mid-step. A fleeting smirk crept across his face as Gloria Moody crossed his mind.
He never passed up an opportunity to tornt her, and this ti, with his brother at his side, the prospect of harassing both wizards was even more enticing. His fingers twitched with anticipation.
"Young Master, what happened?" Gerald's voice broke through his thoughts.
Don turned sharply on his heel, his excitent only growing, and approached the door of the second room with deliberate steps. Standing in front of it, he rapped his knuckles against the wood with a hollow thud.
Knock!
Inside, Gloria's expression darkened. "It's definitely him," she muttered, her tone tinged with weariness.
"Sister, with his vile nature, he won't leave until he sees you," Daren added, his voice vibrating with barely suppressed rage.
I exhaled softly, already expecting this. Daren wasn't one to walk away from conflict, especially not with soone like Don. He'd stick around until things escalated, determined to make his presence felt.
Knock! Knock!
The knocks ca again, harder this ti, as though Don's patience was wearing thin. Gloria remained unmoved. She knew all too well what would happen once Don laid eyes on . His obsession with tornting had only grown over the years, and he wouldn't stop at just insults.
Minutes passed, thick with tension.
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Outside, I could hear the unmistakable sound of Don's frustration boiling over. He spat on the ground, his shoes slapping the floor with fury as he stalked away. The ssage was clear: those inside had ignored him, and he took it as a personal insult.
Gerald and Peter exchanged uneasy glances. They understood the weight of their master's anger.
"Young Master, perhaps we should wait outside the auction hall. They'll have to co out eventually," Peter suggested, eyes flitting nervously to Don.
Don's mood brightened instantly. "Good idea," he growled, a sinister grin playing on his lips. He gestured for the others to follow him.
Monts later, the door creaked open.
I stepped into the corridor, Gloria and Daren following behind. The air felt lighter, as if Don's foul energy had left with him. The corridor was empty, but I knew better than to feel relieved.
"Vincent, let's et the manager," Gloria said, turning toward .
Daren, however, had reached his limit. "Sister, I'm going ho," he announced abruptly, the frustration clear in his voice. He was done wasting his ti with strangers, especially one like Don.
Gloria frowned, her brow creasing. "Are you sure? He's likely waiting outside."
Daren clenched his jaw. "If that scumbag does anything, I'll report him to Father," he bit out, voice trembling with pent-up fury.
With that, he stord off, but not before shooting a lingering glance, a mixture of anger and sothing unspoken behind it.
"Do you have anything valuable to sell?" Gloria asked, her tone asured yet carrying an undercurrent of curiosity.
"Yes, I do have so items with ," I replied, keeping my voice neutral. I deliberately left out the details, watching for her reaction.
Gloria raised her eyebrows in mild surprise but didn't press further. She simply nodded, her sharp eyes glinting with unspoken thoughts. "Let's go et the manager," she said, her voice taking on a businesslike edge as she turned on her heel.
I followed close behind her, my mind racing. We moved down several corridors, each step amplifying the quiet tension between us. Soon, we arrived at a stairway leading to the underground floor, which was brightly lit, though the cold, sterile atmosphere made it feel oddly claustrophobic.
A burly guard stood at the entrance. His eyes flicked over us before landing on Gloria, recognition sparking in his gaze.
"Young Miss, what brings you here?" His voice was respectful, though his gaze carried a mix of curiosity and wariness.
"It's important. I need to speak with the manager," Gloria responded, her voice icy, brooking no argunt.
The guard didn't hesitate. He nodded and disappeared into a side room, leaving us waiting in the dimly lit corridor. The walls, adorned with ornate carvings, lood around us, their shadows lengthening under the faint hum of fluorescent lights. A heavy silence hung in the air, only broken by the distant echoes of voices from above.
Shortly after, the guard reerged, his expression brisk. "You may enter," he said, stepping aside to allow us passage.
We continued forward, my heart thudding in my chest. The underground floor stretched out with nurous rooms, each door seeming to conceal so unknown mystery. The anticipation gnawed at , my instincts on high alert. I could feel the weight of sothing important about to unfold.
We reached the next door. A voice from within called out, "Co in!"
The voice, though calm, carried an authority that made pause. Stepping inside, I was greeted by the sight of a middle-aged woman, her presence commanding the room. She sat behind an ornately carved desk, her green traditional robes flowing around her like liquid silk.
Her auburn curly hair frad her face, and her piercing brown eyes studied us with a gaze that felt like it could strip away pretense.
Despite her calm deanor, the mana aura she radiated was palpable far beyond anything I had felt before, clearly surpassing level 6. It wrapped around her like a protective cloak, adding a heavy weight to the air, making every breath feel thicker, more deliberate.
I was taken aback for a mont, surprised to find soone of such power in this position. Gloria, however, seed unfazed, her expression cool as always.
The woman gestured toward the chairs in front of her. "Please, sit," she said, her voice smooth yet firm, leaving no room for hesitation.
As we sat down, I felt her gaze settle on , assessing, calculating. The tension in the room thickened as I prepared myself for whatever was to co.
"What brings you here, young Miss of the Moody family?" the woman asked, her voice calm but sharp, like a blade concealed beneath velvet.
I opened my mouth to speak, thinking it was my mont to step in, but quickly realized that her eyes were fixed only on Gloria. It was as if I didn't exist. A flash of irritation surged through , but I forced it down, keeping my expression neutral. This wasn't the ti to let my emotions surface.
"Miss Kira, I have a personal request," Gloria replied, her voice softer than usual, almost deferential. It was rare to hear her speak with such humility, which made Kira's eyes gleam with interest. The power dynamic was clear: despite Gloria's high status.
Kira, the manager, shifted slightly in her seat. The flicker in her eyes showed she was fully aware of the weight of the request being made. As she regarded Gloria, her gaze montarily flicked toward .
Her expression changed subtly, curiosity seeping through as she tried to size up. I could feel the pressure of her mana probing, searching but then, sothing shifted. Her brow furrowed slightly, surprise flickering in her eyes when her attempt to inspect faltered.
Her attention returned to Gloria. "Let's hear it," she said, her tone more asured now, perhaps intrigued by what was coming.
Gloria smiled, a glint of confidence in her eyes as if knowing she now had Kira's full attention. "My friend here needs to visit the Ancient Redwood Country," she began. "So, I'm hoping you could grant him access to your Teleportation Platform."
The re ntion of the Ancient Redwood Country made Kira's expression shift. Her previously composed deanor faltered for just a mont, replaced by a spark of caution.
It was clear she knew the significance of that place. Her eyes narrowed, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. The Teleportation Platform within the Auction House wasn't sothing easily accessed especially for destinations like that.
"Ancient Redwood Country?" Kira repeated, her voice laced with suspicion. "There's a Teleportation Platform at the Alliance Headquarters. Why not use that? Why co to ?" Her gaze darted between us before it stopped on Gloria, who remained poised and calm. Then, suddenly, as if a puzzle piece clicked into place, Kira's face brightened with understanding.
Her eyes returned to , this ti sharper, more focused. "Young man," she said slowly, "are you a foreigner?"
The directness of her question hit like a hamr. I felt her gaze boring into , her curiosity replaced by sothing far more critical. My chest tightened, but I forced myself to stay composed, eting her eyes. "Yes, I am," I admitted, keeping my voice steady. "I need to go to the Ancient Redwood Country, but the rules here… they're not exactly favorable for foreigners like ."
Kira's gaze lingered on for a beat longer, as though she was asuring every word, every inflection. Then, she leaned back slightly in her chair, considering.
"I see," she said quietly, the weight of her mana lifting just slightly. But I knew, behind that calm expression, she was calculating, evaluating the risks, the benefits, and perhaps the mystery she still couldn't quite unravel about .
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