After being led into the venue—
The first thing that caught Orsaga's eye was the exquisitely decorated interior and the elegantly dressed participants of the auction.
Although the building had been hastily constructed for this event, the hosts had clearly spared no expense to maintain their prestige. To ensure both quality and efficiency, they had even employed numerous professionals and magical tools during construction.
The result? The building was so sturdy that with just a few modifications, it could easily be converted into a fortress.
It was practically impenetrable.
As for the attendees—anyone who had made it inside the venue was either incredibly wealthy or held significant influence. Whether they were granted a spot through connections or earned entry by bidding, ordinary folk simply wouldn't have the qualifications to attend.
517.
That was the number of participants Orsaga counted at a glance.
Since the auction had not officially begun yet, most of the guests were mingling in the center of the hall, wine glasses in hand, exchanging pleasantries.
This social aspect was the true reason many people attended the auction, even though they had no intention—or ability—to purchase the rare treasures on offer.
Compared to staring longingly at items far beyond their reach, it was far more practical to use the event as an opportunity to rub shoulders with the powerful and elite.
For them, if they could establish connections with even a few influential figures, the entire trip would be worth it.
After all, compared to other elite gatherings that were nearly impossible to enter without the right connections, this auction was one of the few events with a relatively low threshold.
So for anyone with humble origins but grand ambitions, this was an opportunity they couldn't afford to miss.
Building a proper network of contacts was often the key to climbing the ladder of success.
And naturally, with Orsaga's entrance, many people in the venue shifted their attention toward him.
Unlike those who had been granted early access through invitations, Orsaga was clearly one of the last to enter—meaning he had secured his seat through bidding.
And the fact that he was able to enter so quickly via that method usually implied one thing:
He had offered a much higher bid than anyone else.
In short—it meant this guy either had a bottomless wallet or held considerable power.
With that in mind, when people got a closer look at his appearance and attire, many of those who had come with networking in mind immediately perked up. They didn't hesitate to bring their wine glasses over, hoping to strike up a conversation.
Unsurprisingly, the vast majority of them were attractive women.
Orsaga didn't mind the attention—in fact, he welcomed it. After all, he had nothing to lose.
Casually accepting a drink from a cat-eared young woman, he began chatting with the group around him.
His expression showed no sign of discomfort or awkwardness. On the contrary, he exuded a subtle, almost lazy aura—like he didn't care about anything—yet somehow, no one around him felt neglected or slighted.
Everything he did seemed effortless.
And this composed, polished demeanor only made the people around him even more intrigued.
In their eyes, only someone of noble birth or high status could display such natural charisma.
It was the kind of grace that could only be cultivated through years of social experience—not something some backwater bumpkin could ever master.
Before long, Orsaga casually wrapped an arm around the waists of two stunning women on either side of him, openly embracing the role of a playboy with zero restraint.
His entire demeanor screamed, "I'll take them all!"
Even the local elites of Misturk looked a little puzzled.
Richard frowned slightly, turning to his better-informed companion and asked, "Who the hell is that guy?"
Judging by the man's appearance and mannerisms, he had to be someone well-known, yet Richard had absolutely no memory of him.
His companion stared at the growing crowd of admirers around Orsaga, just as clueless.
Still, seeing the number of beautiful women clinging to the stranger filled his heart with bitter envy.
'Why, I'm not ugly, and I have status, but I don't even get one women to touch?'
The thought stung. The only time women ever got close to him was when he paid them, and even then, only because of the money.
A wave of heartache surged through his chest, leaving him momentarily breathless.
Forcing himself to stay composed, he finally replied to Richard, "No idea. He might've just arrived, or maybe came from out of town specifically for this auction…"
Misturk, being a city that exported all sorts of rare materials, always had a large transient population. So it wasn't surprising for outsiders to flock in for a major auction.
Though Richard still felt something was off, he couldn't pinpoint what exactly, and thus dropped the subject.
Similar conversations could be heard all around the venue.
Orsaga's striking appearance and presence were impossible to ignore, and naturally sparked widespread curiosity.
A tall young woman, watching Orsaga effortlessly navigating the crowd, looked visibly unimpressed by his womanizing ways. Still, she turned to a middle-aged man beside her and ordered, "Go. Look into his background."
Even she had never heard of the race Orsaga belonged to, with his unique physical features.
"Yes, young miss," the man replied, bowing slightly.
Orsaga was well aware of what they were doing, but he didn't care.
To be blunt, they could dig as much as they wanted—they wouldn't find anything useful.
Unless they had a team of demigod-level mages casting prophecy spells like the ones before, any ordinary investigative methods were doomed to fail.
---
Soon after, the bidding for the final seats concluded.
Several loud drumbeats echoed through the hall, drawing everyone's attention to the stage.
The auction was officially underway!
Two well-dressed hosts—a man and a woman—stepped forward and stood on either side of the platform.
"I am Hara Telsey, your host for today's auction," the male announcer declared.
"We'd like to thank everyone here for attending the Harlan Auction House's event. On behalf of Lord Harlan, we offer our deepest gratitude."
"May each of you walk away with the treasure you seek."
After the brief and direct opening remarks, the two knew full well that neither the audience here nor the countless people watching via live broadcast had any interest in drawn-out, empty speeches. Without delay, they moved straight to the first item.
Carried out by an attendant, it was a hollow, golden tiara inlaid with sky-blue gemstones.
Its elegant design and mysterious magical engravings made it clear that even by appearance alone, this item was no ordinary trinket.
The male host pointed to it and said, "This tiara is known as Tranquil Will. It's not only beautifully crafted, but also highly practical. Anyone who wears it will be immune to all mental-type spells below the Legendary Rank. In addition, it grants a daily use of Greater Ward, powerful enough to block a Legendary-level attack. For most people, it's essentially a life-saving artifact."
As he finished, the female host boldly picked up the tiara and placed it on her head.
She confidently showcased it to the audience, her elegant demeanor reminiscent of a proud peacock flaunting its beauty.
Many of the women in the crowd—some of whom hadn't planned to bid at all—suddenly found themselves captivated.
They couldn't help but imagine how they would look wearing it themselves.
It had to be said—their marketing tactics were quite effective.
__
T/N:
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