Chapter 142 – Stay Cursed
Lux froze.
Then tilted his head.
’Of course.’
Because this night couldn’t just be fraud and flirting—it needed fur.
He moved smoothly to the restroom door and cracked it open just enough to hear the approaching footsteps. Soft, heavy, and tid. Coordinated.
He caught the scent instantly.
It wasn’t cologne.
It wasn’t even the too-sweet perfu of ambition or borrowed power.
No—this was sweat. Wet fur. Low-level glamor spells trying to mask musk and dirt and just enough silver to set off his sin-sense like a cheap fire alarm.
Lux’s nose wrinkled.
’Wait... that’s not how money slls.’
He closed the door without a sound, his hand lingering on the handle for half a second longer than necessary. Then he turned, exhaled slowly, and leaned his weight into the silence.
Definitely not nobles. The scent was all wrong—feral, raw, like cheap cologne over sweat and damp fur. But not the rich kind. These weren’t heirs or highborn enforcers. These were underlings. Disposable, desperate, probably half-drunk on borrowed rage and soone else’s coin.
His eyes drifted up to the marble ceiling, letting the details blur.
Power sent signals, and the bottom-feeders ca sniffing for weakness.
Maybe it was the duke—again.
Unimaginative, but not impossible.
Or maybe soone else. He had drawn too much attention tonight—walked the stage, wrecked a few hearts, maybe a few reputations.
Drank sothing that looked like poison and made it look too easy. That kind of performance always ca with a price.
Yeah, he was probably overdue for an assassination attempt.
Still... the idea bored him. He didn’t feel like playing cat-and-wolf tonight. Not when Corvus was about to put on a show.
Lux smiled lazily. "What a sha, boys..."
’Teleportation.’
And with a flick of his wrist—he was gone.
No noise.
No flash.
Just a puff of sulfur, and the devil disappeared.
The hallway near the grand hall shimred briefly—and then Lux reappeared in the corner near one of the columns, hidden in the shadows between display mirrors and a massive potted orchid tree.
From this angle, he had a perfect view.
Of the three werewolves storming toward the restroom.
Too late.
.
He smirked. "Can’t miss the main event."
The doors to the auction chamber were still slightly ajar. Laughter floated from inside. Voices raised in drama, money, and wine-drunken greed. The scent of candlewax, vintage perfu, and bubbling tension rolled through the gap like heat.
Lux straightened his jacket, adjusted his collar, and stepped back inside with the confidence of a god returning to his temple.
No one saw him slip in.
No one except Rava.
Her eyes flicked toward him the second he stepped past the velvet rope.
She said nothing.
He slid into his seat and leaned toward her with a smirk. "Miss ?"
"Only for dramatic pacing."
"Fair."
Fiera looked at him from two seats over, clearly suspicious. "You’re glowing," she said.
"I moisturized," Lux replied, deadpan.
The host’s voice bood again, drawing all attention back to the stage.
"And here we are—our most anticipated bid of the evening! The final stretch for the Phoenix Egg! Shall I hear twenty-five million?"
The crowd murmured. Gasps. Nervous giggles. A few discreet curses.
Lylith Seravelle, poised like royalty and venom in a single coil, raised her hand again.
"Twenty-six million," she said, her voice silk-wrapped steel.
The crowd erupted. Even nobles who hadn’t bid gasped in awe.
The Duke, seated like he already won, smirked confidently and sipped from his obnoxiously jeweled goblet.
The host’s eyes glead. "Do I hear twenty-six?! Going once!"
Lux reclined, unbothered, his fingers steepled as he watched it unfold.
"Going twice—!"
And then the lights in the hall flickered.
Just a flicker.
Barely noticeable to the average mortal.
But Lux smiled.
Here it cos.
The chandeliers shimred. Corvus.
And from the ceiling, the scrying orb—enchanted to reflect auction items for the back rows—glitched once. Then twice.
Then exploded into a flurry of moving images.
It was subtle at first.
The projection showed the Phoenix Egg. Normal. Still.
Then it zood in. Too far. Into the egg.
Into the inside of it.
The crowd gasped. Murmurs turned into confused whispers.
And then it showed it.
A fossil.
Pale.
Cracked.
Dead.
Still.
No fire. No ash. No soul.
Just a dry husk of sothing long dead and not phoenix.
The fire-like glow around the egg? Suddenly gone.
Like soone had turned off the illusion.
The room went silent.
Dead silent.
The host blinked. Once. Twice.
"Uh—ladies and gentlen, I—" he fumbled.
But the projection kept playing. Now cutting to the glamour spell around the egg. A full breakdown of the enchantnt matrix. Fake fire. Projected mana. Tid pulses ant to simulate movent.
A glowing arrow appeared on the screen, pointing to the embedded illusion sigils.
Another arrow.
Then a flashing red label across the image.
FRAUD!
"Soone hacked the orb!" soone shouted.
"Shut it down!" barked another.
But it was too late.
The system was locked.
Corvus wasn’t just showing them the truth.
He was rubbing their faces in it.
And across the room?
Duke Albrecht paled.
Rava leaned toward Lux slowly, lips pressed together.
"You did that."
"?" Lux asked, feigning innocence. "I was in the bathroom. You saw ."
"You’re such a liar."
"I know. It’s why you love ."
"Debatable."
Mira spoke up, voice cutting through the silence. "So much for the glorious phoenix."
Elyndra snorted. "The jewelry queen nearly paid twenty six million for a fossil."
Fiera looked furious. "That duke. That smug, shiny, rat-faced duke. Is the egg his?"
"Oh, don’t worry," Lux murmured. "He’s about to eat his own shit."
And right on cue...
The projection changed again.
A recorded conversation.
The Duke’s voice.
Bragging.
To one of his underlings.
"I had the illusion spells layered so well even a dragon wouldn’t notice. Phoenix eggs are such a myth anyway. Nobles just love the word ’rebirth.’ I could’ve glued a turkey feather to a rock and they’d still buy it."
Gasps. Outrage.
Then the projection exploded into red letters.
EXPOSED BY CORVUS ;P
Stay cursed
User Comments
0 comments from readers