"Ladies and gentlemen," Master Orwin Pell said, his voice carrying through the Grand Auction House as the final crystal container was placed upon the black pedestal, "we have one final item."
Nobody laughed this time.
The container was small enough to fit comfortably inside a man's palm. Within it floated a single viscous golden drop, surrounded by thin strands of mist-like mana that continuously escaped its surface before curling inward again.
There was no magnificent sword, no towering suit of armor, no ancient Skill Stone radiating enough power to immediately reveal its Rank. There was only one drop of liquid, yet the moment the attendants stepped away from the pedestal, several of the most experienced Warriors in the hall visibly stiffened.
Leon Drakar stopped moving.
Iris Dawncaster's quill froze halfway across her page.
