The Royal Auction House – Capital of Sol-Regis. Midday – 1:00 PM.
The royal auction building was shaped like a grand opera theater. The ground floor was packed with wealthy rchants from all corners of the continent, while the second floor housed VIP balconies (Private Boxes) for the high nobility.
At VIP Balcony 1: Grand Chancellor Morvath.
He sat like a vulture eyeing its prey, accompanied by bankers from the Black Syndicate. His face was sour and his eyes had heavy bags—it was clear he was sleep-deprived after his bank savings "mysteriously vanished" two nights ago. However, he had already secured a high-interest ergency loan for today.
At VIP Balcony 2: House Sudrath.
Duke Lucian sat calmly with his legs crossed. Sir Rianor stood beside him, holding a bidding paddle and a calculator (a chanical calculating device made by Elara). Lady Rhea stood near the balcony door, her hand ready near a dagger hidden behind her party gown.
"Any word from Riven?" Lucian whispered softly (Family Mode).
"Not yet, Dad. The last telegraph this morning said the situation was safe; he’s on routine patrol," Rianor replied while checking his pocket watch. "Let’s focus here first. Morvath looks desperate."
At VIP Balcony 3 (Next to Sudrath): Princess Seraphina (Draconia).
She sat alone, sipping herbal tea with elegance, appearing indifferent to the human hustle and bustle below her.
Sir Roland was not in his family’s balcony. He was conducting a diplomatic infiltration mission into Seraphina’s balcony.
"Excuse , Princess," Roland greeted (Formal), entering the adjacent balcony uninvited. "May I sit? The balcony next door is a bit... crowded with my father’s ambition."
Seraphina did not turn. "You again. What do you want, Roland? Selling soap again?"
"Business," Roland sat in the empty chair beside her with confidence. "The Southern Mithril Mine auction is about to begin. Morvath will surely bid like a madman. House Sudrath has the money, but... we need ’Imperial Prestige’ to crush his spirit."
"You want to be your financier?" Seraphina asked sharply, glancing at Roland with her crimson eyes.
"Such harsh language," Roland chuckled. "Let’s call it... a Strategic Partner. If we win, Draconia gets 30% priority access to the mine’s output. And Morvath... our mutual enemy will go bankrupt from overextending himself."
Seraphina set her cup down slowly.
"40%."
"35%," Roland countered quickly. "Plus one crate of exclusive Rose & Mint scented soap every month, sent directly to your room."
The corner of Seraphina’s lip lifted ever so slightly.
"Deal. Do not disappoint , Sudrath."
The Auction Begins.
The Royal Auctioneer struck his golden gavel. BANG!
"Ladies and gentlen! Today’s Main Item! Managent Rights for the Southern Hill Mine for 50 Years! Estimated contents: High-quality iron and... other rare minerals."
"We open the bidding at: 50,000 Gold Coins!"
Shocked murmurs erupted from the ground floor. A fantastic opening price for an "iron" mine.
"60,000!" shouted a trade representative from the West.
"70,000!" countered a weapons rchant Baron.
Morvath in the opposite balcony raised his paddle casually.
"100,000 Gold."
The room went silent. A drastic jump in price. Morvath was flaunting his power.
Rianor in the Sudrath Balcony looked at his father.
"Dad, our turn. Slowly now, let’s raise his blood pressure."
Lucian nodded. Rianor raised the paddle.
"110,000 Gold."
Morvath snorted at the sight of Sudrath. He stood up, glaring sharply toward Lucian.
"150,000!" Morvath shouted.
"160,000," Rianor replied calmly, his face expressionless.
"200,000!" Morvath began to lose his temper. The veins in his neck bulged. "Just surrender, Sudrath! You think the pocket change from selling your soap can compete with the wealth of the state?!"
Rianor whispered to Lucian.
"Dad, our funds from robbing him plus the remaining treasury only total 180,000. If it goes higher than that, we need Roland’s ace."
"Hold on," Lucian said. "Let him feel like he’s won for a mont."
Rianor lowered his paddle. He feigned hesitation and engaged in a panicked discussion with his father.
"200,000 once..." The Auctioneer began the count.
"200,000 twice..."
Morvath smiled broadly, an arrogant victory grin. "See? The northern rats have run out of breath."
Suddenly, from VIP Balcony 3.
A golden paddle was raised.
"300,000 Gold Coins."
A woman’s voice—cold, clear, and full of authority.
Everyone turned simultaneously. Princess Seraphina stood at the edge of the balcony. Beside her, Roland smiled sweetly while waving his hand toward Morvath.
Morvath’s face turned deathly pale instantly. "The Princess of Draconia?! Why is she interfering?!"
"300,000!" The auctioneer trembled with excitent. "The highest bid is from Her Highness Princess Seraphina! Are there any challengers?"
Morvath panicked. He turned to the banker beside him, cold sweat pouring down. "What is our loan limit?!"
"Sir... our safe limit is 250,000. If it goes higher than that, we must mortgage your personal assets. Land deeds, houses, everything."
Morvath gritted his teeth. He could not lose. That mine was the key to his plan to summon the Iron Empire’s army.
"Mortgage everything! My house, my land in the South! Fight her!"
"350,000!" Morvath shouted, his voice cracking and hoarse.
Roland whispered sothing into Seraphina’s ear.
Seraphina raised the paddle again without the slightest hesitation.
"500,000 Gold Coins."
BOOOOM.
The room exploded with hysterical screams.
Half a million gold. That was equivalent to the tax of an entire province for a whole year.
This was no longer an investnt. This was Imperial-Tier Flexing.
Morvath collapsed into his chair. Weak. His eyes went blank.
He didn’t have 500,000. Not even if he sold his kidneys.
"500,000 once... twice... THREE TIS! SOLD!"
BANG!
"The winner is Princess Seraphina Draconia!"
Morvath stared blankly ahead. He lost. He was humiliated. And he just realized: The money Sudrath used to fight him earlier... was most likely his own money that had vanished from the bank.
"SUDRAAAAATHHH!" Morvath scread internally, the blood vessels in his eyes bursting.
Exit Corridor – Post-Auction.
The Sudrath family and Princess Seraphina walked out together. Paparazzi (magic newspaper reporters) took their photos with blinding flashes.
"A pleasure working with you, Princess," Rianor said with a respectful bow.
"You owe 35%," Seraphina corrected coldly. "I will send my people to oversee the mine next week."
Seraphina turned to Roland.
"And you, Roland. Since you’ve beco my ’Business Partner’... tomorrow you must accompany around the Capital. I need... a guide who isn’t boring."
Roland was shocked, then grinned widely.
"Is that a date invitation, Your Highness?"
"It’s a field inspection," Seraphina dodged, though her ears looked a bit red. She turned quickly and entered her carriage.
After the Draconia carriage left, Rhea slapped Roland’s back extrely hard. THUD.
"You’re insane, Lan! You actually bagged the Ice Princess!"
"Not bagged, Sis. That’s called God-Tier Diplomacy," Roland said proudly.
Duke Lucian smiled with satisfaction.
"We won the mine. We have Draconia’s backing. And Morvath is now completely bankrupt."
"But be careful," Rianor said, adjusting his glasses. "A cornered Morvath is the most dangerous. He has no choice but to resort to total violence now."
Suddenly, Rianor felt a vibration in his inner coat pocket.
The portable Telegraph device (a pager version) connected to Northreach vibrated violently.
BZZZT... BZZZT...
Rianor took out the device. His previously calm face turned deathly pale as he read the incoming Morse code.
"What is it, Yan?" Rhea asked, seeing her brother’s change in expression.
"A ssage from Riven," Rianor’s voice trembled.
SOS. ERGENCY.
CAVE SEAL BROKEN.
ANCIENT MONSTER LOOSE.
CASTLE UNDER ATTACK. HOLDING OUT ALONE.
Lucian instantly snatched the device, reading the code. The Duke’s murderous aura exploded imdiately.
"My son is in danger."
"Dad... we have to go ho. Now," Rianor said firmly. "To hell with the carriage. We’ll force Elara to open a teleportation gate."
"Let’s go!" Lucian commanded.
They ran toward the Academy, leaving behind the auction victory that was no longer important. In their minds, there was only one thing: Save Riven.
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