"Before we begin," John said, settling back into his seat as the lanterns around the island dimmed to a warm, expectant glow, "one rule. I only accept Demi-God rank resources or Spirit Crystals as payment. I hope you've all come with enough balance to actually participate."
Nobody at the five tables looked surprised. All of them looked, in their own way, ready.
Mr. Tauren waved his hand, and a single dark box rose from his storage ring, settling onto the table between them.
...
The box opened on its own, unfolding into a slender crown of black, star-veined metal, its points shaped less like typical royal ornamentation and more like a ring of small, patient thrones in miniature.
"The Crown of the Unbroken Throne," John said. "Any oath sworn in the wearer's presence becomes binding at the soul level. Break it, and the oathbreaker suffers damage proportional to what the promise was worth. No exceptions, no loopholes, no clever wording around it."
