The third and fourth auction items came and went quickly—an intricately forged longsword, and a fire-element grass known as Blazing thorn grass, reputed to enhance flame-type cultivation.
The sword sold for 21 Ember Stones, the herb for 25.
Riven leaned back in his seat, unmoved. He hadn't lifted a single finger.
"Useful, but not for me. I'm not here for weapons or ordinary cultivation herbs…"
The muscular man from earlier—Henry Ford remained similarly disinterested. He crossed his arms, his silence speaking volumes.
"Then came the fifth item." Kenny's smile brightened as he gestured. "Bring it in."
A female attendant returned, this time carrying a sealed steel box inscribed with protective runes. She placed it on the platform and stepped back.
With deliberate care, Kenny unlocked the seals. The box creaked open—and inside, resting atop a silk cloth, was a **glowing yellow orb** the size of a clenched fist.
It pulsed faintly with warm light.
Beautiful… but unremarkable.
"Truthfully, its origin is unknown," Kenny admitted, raising a brow. "A wandering cultivator found it in a collapsed ruin and sold it to us. It emits spiritual energy but resists analysis. Therefore… the starting bid is 10 Ember Stones."
A hush fell across the hall.
The orb glowed softly—but compared to previous items, it felt empty. No fierce aura. No divine weight. Just a light.
"Looks like junk."
"Probably decorative. Not worth bidding."
Many chose silence. Just then a voice came,"15 Ember Stones!"
It was Henry again. His deep voice cut through the quiet like a knife.
Riven's gaze flicked to the orb but remained indifferent.
"Nothing special… just spiritual residue. A failed artifact maybe?"
He was about to ignore it completely—until something stirred.
Within the depths of his consciousness sea, the Voidless Flame slowly opened her golden eyes.
Her soft body flickered with sudden excitement. "Riven!!"
Her voice was urgent—almost frantic. "That orb… I want it. I want it now!"
Riven's eyes narrowed slightly. "You recognize it?"
She didn't answer. Her thoughts pulsed like fire. "Buy it. Just buy it. I'll explain later."
A long breath escaped Riven's lips. He stared at the glowing orb again—and this time, something shifted. He didn't sense its value, but the Voidless Flame… she never reacted like this.
"I've never seen her this intense before…"
He raised his hand, voice calm yet clear. "40 Ember Stones."
The room fell silent.
Henry's masked face slowly turned. A frigid aura leaked from his body.
"Little brother," he said, his voice laced with warning, "give me some face. I'm interested in that item. Back down."
Before he could finish, Riven tilted his head slightly and spoke with an indifferent tone.
"Give you face...? Are you worthy of it?"
The air grew heavy. Some people sucked in a breath. Even the attendants stiffened.
Henry's spiritual pressure surged slightly, eyes burning beneath the mask.
"You…!" he growled, fists clenching at his sides.
He didn't move—he couldn't. Violence inside the Red Lotus Hall would lead to punishment. But his glare promised future reckoning.
Riven didn't look at him again. He had already dismissed the man.
Kenny, ever the professional, was grinning ear to ear. "What a night…"
"One… two… sold!" he declared loudly, striking the gavel.
"He mocked Henry Ford in front of a crowd and stole the item. Bold."
Kenny glanced toward Riven, intrigued. "This boy… is interesting. Doesn't fear snakes in the grass."
An attendant handed Riven the orb, and he transferred the stones wordlessly.
He studied it for a moment. The orb was warm in his hand, exuding gentle spiritual energy—almost comforting.
"Still feels useless… but she's never wrong."
He tucked it into his leather satchel.
Across the room, Henry's eyes never left him.
Behind the black mask, the man's lips curled into a cruel grin. "Let's see how arrogant you are… when this auction ends."
"Now," Kenny said with rising energy, "allow me to present the final item of the night."
This time, two attendants entered the hall carrying a massive black metal box etched with ancient glyphs. They carefully lowered it onto the stage.
Kenny himself approached it and, with a deep breath, flung open the lid.
A wave of intense spiritual pressure burst into the room, tinged with twin auras—crimson fire and icy blue frost. The temperature warped. Light refracted strangely.
Gasps echoed.
Inside the box lay a single flower petal—glowing red and white—floating above a stone pedestal as if weightless.
Kenny's voice rang out, louder than before, "Snow Fire Petal! A high-tier Mortal grade herb with dual elemental alignment—Fire and Ice and aged over 200 years!"
The room exploded. Dozens of voices clashed, ambition and greed bleeding through every syllable. The crowd leaned forward, eyes burning with desire as they fought for the rare treasure.
"A dual-element herb… this hasn't been seen in decades!"
"No price is too high for something like this!"
"Those haven't surfaced in ten years!"
"It's over! I have to win it!"
Even Riven's calm expression cracked for a moment. His pupils shrank slightly.
"Snow Fire Petal… Fire and Ice. It's exactly what I need. Maybe… this is fate."
His heart pounded—though his face remained stoic. But he didn't move.
He simply watched, calculated, waited. "Let them fight. I'll strike when it matters."
Kenny lifted his hand, voice sharp like a blade slicing the tension. "Starting bid—40 Ember Stones. Let the bidding begin!"
A half-second of silence—then chaos erupted.
"Fifty!"
"Sixty!"
"Seventy!"
"Ninety!"
Voices overlapped as the hall devolved into a frenzy.
The numbers shot up like wildfire. Dozens of voices clashed, ambition and greed bleeding through every syllable. The crowd leaned forward, eyes burning with desire as they fought for the rare treasure.
Then the masked woman raised her voice, calm and confident. "One hundred and fifty!"
Gasps echoed. That shut most mouths instantly.
But not all. Henry's cold voice followed, dripping arrogance. "Two hundred!"
Riven didn't blink. Without rising, without fanfare, he spoke. "Four hundred and fifty."
The hall froze.
Silence slammed down like a hammer. Even the flickering lanterns seemed to quiet.
Every masked face turned around.
Henry was stiffened as he stared at him. "How…?!"
He had wealth—but not enough to casually throw 450 Ember Stones on a herb.
The masked woman let out a soft laugh under her breath.
"Interesting…" The woman's brows arched beneath her veil.
Kenny's eyes gleamed with interest. "That boy again… First the mysterious orb… now this. Either he's rich beyond belief, or there's more to him than meets the eye."
But he didn't linger. As the room remained frozen in stunned silence, Kenny raised his hand and struck the gavel with a sharp crack.
"Ones... twice... Sold!"
The sound echoed through the hall like a verdict.
Murmurs erupted in waves. People whispered beneath their masks, curiosity stirred like a rising tide.
"Who the hell is that kid?"
"Is he a noble's heir?"
"No—he didn't come with an entourage…"
"But that bid—he outmatched Henry without flinching!"
Across the room, Henry's fists clenched, knuckles pale beneath his robe.
His jaw tightened behind the mask, and a quiet growl rumbled in his chest. "You again… ruining my night twice?"
He glared at Riven, who hadn't even glanced his way once.
Still seated, still unreadable, Riven looked as though the entire auction meant nothing to him.
But inside, a storm of resolve burned quietly.
"I've got it. The Snow Fire Petal...! Now I can begin experimenting—regrowing my Veinroot might no longer be a dream."
His heart beat steady, but beneath that calm mask, a future once lost had just flickered back into reach.
An attendant approached once more, respectfully handing over a small ornate box and accepting the payment. Riven, still in high spirits, tossed in two extra Ember Stones as a tip.
The young man blinked in surprise but bowed gratefully.
Riven opened the box slightly. A wave of potent energy surged outward, brushing across all six of his senses like a rising tide—but he quickly shut the lid and tucked it into his leather satchel.
"This isn't the right place," he thought. "Not yet."
But inside his consciousness, a sultry voice cooed playfully. "Riven... can I eat it~?"
The flame girl's golden form stretched like a lazy cat, her ember-like eyes glowing with excitement.
Riven shook his head, responding telepathically with a soft chuckle.
"No. That herb is crucial. I need it to reconstruct my Veinroot—to return to cultivation. But don't worry… I'll feed you something even more precious in the near future."
She pouted but didn't complain further, curling up again like a flame resting in slumber.
Kenny, still all smiles and professional poise, clapped once and announced loudly to the crowd, "Thank you all for attending. The auction is now concluded. May fortune favor your cultivation!"
To maintain the privacy of all guests, three separate exit doors opened, allowing participants to leave without revealing their identities.
Riven knew what would come next. "Henry won't let it go that easily."
Although he didn't fear confrontation, his current body was that of an ordinary mortal. Reckless fighting would mean suicide.
So, without drawing attention, he silently slipped out with the crowd through the second door.
Henry, still seated, narrowed his eyes when he noticed movement. He rose with a smirk and casually strolled toward the same exit.
Outside, the rear exit opened into a sparse forest path—a quieter route into the city. The auction guests scattered, discussing rare items and missed chances.
Riven blended in, walking silently with them for a while… then, veering left, he disappeared into the woods.
Nearly a mile out, he came to a stop.
The trees rustled gently. Moonlight filtered through the canopy above. He didn't look back, but his voice was cool—like still water beneath winter ice.
"Are you not going to show yourself, Mr. Henry?"
A soft chuckle broke the silence.
"You're quite sharp, little prince," Henry drawled, stepping out from the shadows. "I'll make this simple—hand over the orb and the herb... or I'll take your corpse instead."
He grinned, arrogance dripping from every word.
Riven turned slowly, his gaze indifferent. "Do you even know who I am?"
Henry tilted his head with mock politeness.
"The fifth prince of the Red Lotus Kingdom. A pleasure."
But the amusement in his eyes made the words venomous.
"So you still intend to kill me?" Riven's voice carried no fear. His calm unnerved even the wind.
"Of course they'll recognize me. My face may look weak, but not unfamiliar. I expected this."
Henry's smirk widened as spiritual energy surged around him.
"Once you're dead, I'll make it look like a beast mauling. No one will question it. After all..." He raised his hand. "I'm a sixth-stage Veinroot Realm cultivator. You? You can't even fight back."
Riven didn't flinch. "Little flame... will you handle this annoying pest?"
Her voice answered instantly, a golden whisper of glee. "Easily. But… using me in your mortal state will put immense strain on your body. Are you sure?"
"Just do it. Quickly."
Henry lunged forward—but froze mid-motion.
His pupils shrank. A terrifying force exploded outward from Riven's body. It wasn't spirit energy—it was something far worse.
Primordial. Divine. Pure destruction.
"W-What… what the hell.. who are you exactly—" he stammered backward.
But before he could finish, a golden flame burst from Riven's palm—silent, elegant, and utterly fatal. It wrapped around Henry like a lover's embrace.
His scream tore into the forest for barely two seconds—
Then, silence.
Nothing remained but scorched earth and a whiff of smoke.
Riven wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, exhaling slowly. "Good job, little flame."
"He deserved it," she murmured, her voice still playful, "Such bad taste in death threats."
The golden embers faded back into his palm, leaving behind nothing but scorched soil and silence. The forest, moments ago filled with tension, now stood still—watching.
Riven looked up at the moonlight peeking through the trees.
His body trembled faintly—not from fear, but the strain of channeling something far beyond mortal limits.
"I can't keep doing this…"
"I need my Veinroot restored. Soon."
He reached into his satchel, brushing his fingers over the cold metal of the herb box and the strange glowing orb.
A small smile curved his lips. "These are the first steps. I'll return to the peak sooner or later… even if the heavens themselves try to stop me."
With that thought echoing through him, Riven turned and vanished into the night, leaving behind a trail of scorched earth—and the first whispered rumor of a fire too ancient to name.
Author's Note:
Here are the known cultivation realms in Skyren Realm (from lowest to highest):
1. Veinroot Realm
2. Soulspark Realm
3. True Astral Realm
4. Half Saint Realm
5. Saint Realm
(More will be revealed as the story progresses)