A few monts earlier — deep in one of the less glamorous spectator terraces...
"I’ll buy it... 2.6 million pearls." The undead general started.
"Mmm~ That Scythe is Dimming, that’s very tempting if you ask ," purred a young woman in a voice that danced between amusent and seduction.
Her attire was bold — scandalous, even — shimring with a fabric that clung to her like moonlight to rippling water. Her skin glowed with a smooth luster, as if lit from within. Foxlike ears twitched faintly atop her head, and nine flowing, silken tails played behind her like waves in slow motion. A dainty, upturned nose and vivid golden eyes only added to her uncanny allure. And then there was her smile — cocky, knowing, dangerous — paired with a lounging posture so open, so unapologetically relaxed, that she seed to radiate sovereignty without a crown. Any soul who dared stare too long at this haughty vixen would think twice, lest they catch the glint of claws beneath that velvet facade.
"What use have we for that accursed blade, Elinor?" The woman beside her spoke softly, yet with unmistakable weight. Regal in every motion, she sat with poise and grace, her posture composed — knees drawn together, hands resting one atop the other on her lap, her chin slightly lifted. Where Elinor radiated seduction and chaos, this woman, Renara, embodied nobility — like a high priestess seated atop judgnt’s throne. Looking at her inspired no lust, no fear... only reverence. "Yes, it’s undeniably powerful. Even we — if pressed to the edge — could wield it as a final resort... But I fear it might beco our final destination as well."
"Oh co on now, not for us, obviously~" Elinor waved a dismissive hand as if brushing aside a silly concern. "It’s not ant for us to wield, sister. It’s for that boy — the one leading the armies of the True Beginning Empire. Isn’t his rged law said to contain death as one of its two roots?"
"Shh!" Renara’s head whipped toward her sister, her golden eyes narrowed in warning. "Since when did such words beco safe to speak aloud?"
Then, after a mont to collect herself, she turned forward again, voice quieter, but firr, like stone settling into place.
"Besides, who even confird death is involved? Perhaps there’s another law... No one has ever disclosed that detail explicitly."
Elinor simply chuckled, amused. "Oh, my ever-prudent elder sister... you needn’t veil your thoughts with diplomacy when it’s just . You forget — I’m Elinor." She leaned in, her voice dropping slightly, becoming more intimate, more dangerous. "I saw that fla with my own eyes in his war against the Iron Boar Empire. If that isn’t death behind those nightmarish images... then tell , what else could it possibly be?"
She flicked one of her tails lazily, as though to punctuate her point.
"Just hear out. Do you not see the number of powerful figures in attendance today? The competition for any Displacent-grade artifact is going to be cutthroat. Even if you took every last drop of dew from my vault, as you requested, it may not be enough. So I say... take the Scythe of Dimming. Use it as leverage. A bargaining chip. In case we fail to win what we ca here for, you’ll at least have sothing to offer that Robin boy."
"..." Renara’s lips tightened slightly.
She hadn’t co unprepared. Far from it. She had arrived today with a staggering 200 million pearls— scraped together from every vault her clan could open. On top of that, she had liquidated 30 million from her own personal wealth. And Elinor... through her usual unique thods, had brought another 70 million into the fold.
300 million pearls. That was the full war chest — a bold investnt gathered for one purpose only: to acquire a Fourth-Grade Planetary Displacent Artifact. A tool that could, perhaps, give her the leverage she needed to negotiate directly with Robin — to pull him, even more, into their orbit.
And this ti, the Hall Lords had not opposed her mission. On the contrary — they had encouraged it. They had witnessed what happened after their last gamble on Robin.
A rged law... forged from just 118 million pearls. And one of its two roots was ti — no ordinary power. That single law had tilted the balance of power across entire star systems, allowing them to resist the relentless expansion of the Twilight Spectrum Empire. In ti, they would reclaim every world they had lost.
If the Frost Permanence law — with its fourth-tier foundation — could be acquired at such a price...
Then what might Renara bring ho if she succeeded in claiming a Fourth-Grade Planetary Displacent Artifact?
But now, seated amidst this great sea of kings, generals, ancient nobles, and alien powers whose nas made the stars tremble... doubt crept into her chest like a vine around her ribs.
Perhaps... even 300 million pearls wouldn’t be enough.
"No need to overthink it, Renara. Just buy the scythe."
Elinor’s voice was calm but insistent, her nine tails flicking behind her with a kind of self-assured elegance. "It’s still a third grade planetary artifact, and that boy Robin will be thrilled to receive it. It’d make a perfect gift for his son — a gesture of good will."
Then, with a subtle raise of her eyebrows, she gestured toward Lord Dearth.
"Besides, the undead are famously short on funds and loose interest too fast. If you raise the bid to 2.7 million pearls, he’ll most likely back out. You could even tell Robin you paid 200 million, and he’d probably take your word for it!"
Renara hesitated.
"You truly believe that would work?"
There was uncertainty in her voice, but also a spark of calculation in her eyes. After a mont’s pause, she exhaled — slow and heavy — before nodding to herself.
"Very well. It’s worth the attempt. Even if he doesn’t buy the price, just having the weapon in my possession gives leverage. I could always negotiate for another valuable technique instead."
She brought up her control panel, ready to type in a bid.
But in that exact mont—before her fingers even touched the numbers—
A thunderous voice tore through the auction hall:
"I want it. Three million dew!"
A stunned silence followed.
"What?"
"Who just bid?"
All heads turned simultaneously toward a luminous blue mist at the back of the hall — an ethereal fog, glowing faintly from within. The sound had co from there.
"Cloud #100...?"
"That’s strange. It’s rare for Clouded Guests to keep themselves hidden like that."
"A one in the clouds?" Renara’s expression darkened. Even with her clan’s status and her personal reputation, she had never once been invited to occupy one of the auction’s exclusive cloud seats.
But that didn’t stop her. She clenched her jaw and pushed forward with determination.
"3.1 million pearls!" she called out boldly.
Far above, in the higher realms of the stadium—
"Tsk..."
Robin frowned the instant he heard another bidder enter the fray. Without bothering to even glance at who it was, he lazily raised a hand, eyes locked on the stage.
"3.5 million pearls."
But the mont his bid was accepted, another number lit up across the display:
"3.6 million pearls."
His expression soured slightly.
"Who’s this stubborn pest?"
Finally, curiosity nudged him. He glanced toward the crowd, eyes sweeping over the hall until they landed on the glowing seat that had just placed the last bid. There, bathed in subtle light — a figure he recognized.
"...Renara?"
For a mont, he simply blinked, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smirk curved across his face.
"So that’s how it is..." he muttered, chuckling softly to himself.
"I don’t know if I should see this as a sweet gesture... or just another cunning ploy to use ."
He laughed — a sharp, cynical sound — and shook his head.
That woman and her people had taken advantage of his troops for over fifty years, without offering even the smallest return. The idea that she was doing sothing out of kindness now? Almost laughable.
Without hesitation, he raised his hand again.
"Four million pearls."
And then, turning slightly, his eyes fixed calmly on Lord Dearth.
The undead noble did not react. He sat there like a statue, eyes forward, posture relaxed, as if he had never been involved in the auction at all. He hadn’t even tried to contest the bidding. Once the price surpassed a certain threshold, he simply fell silent.
Robin’s eyebrows lifted slightly at the man’s composure. Despite his dark aura and the clear reverence he commanded, Lord Dearth hadn’t thrown his weight around. He had honored the silent rule of value: if it wasn’t worth it, he didn’t force it.
And that... was sothing Robin respected.
It was a testant to the Spirit Domain’s ironclad reputation — one forged across tens of millions of years. That reputation was exactly why he had dared conduct his business here, despite the imnse risks.
They wouldn’t sacrifice their integrity for soone like him — soone still far from his pri.
Down below, Renara clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the armrest of her chair.
She hesitated for only a second before typing in a new number.
"...4.1 million pearls."
A murmur ran through the crowd. But up above—
Robin simply scoffed.
"Tsk. Not today."
His voice was sharp. His hand rose like a guillotine.
"Ten million pearls."
Gasps. Silence. Shock.
Renara’s mouth opened slightly, eyes wide. But she said nothing. Her gaze lowered in quiet defeat.
Robin, seeing this, let out a short, bitter laugh. Then he turned to the fairy hovering beside him.
"Little fairy, you profit off the value of the deals you’re involved in, right?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Let your superiors know I made this purchase because you recomnded it."
The little fairy twirled mid-air, her wings buzzing in delight.
"Of course. You’ve been a fun companion," Robin said with a carefree laugh, patting her on the head like an old friend.
Then he turned back toward Lord Morval, waiting for the final declaration.
For him, Renara was already out of the ga.
And so, after a full minute of silence — one that felt like a final bow — Lord Morval’s lips curled into a pleased smile.
With a proud gesture, he extended his arm toward the blue-lit cloud.
"The Scythe of Dimming... now belongs to the Lord of Cloud Number 100!"
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