Adela's gaze sharpened, immediately catching the shift in my posture. She knew that, while I enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh and moments of calm, I rarely acted without a reason strong enough to justify breaking my inertia.
"Another reason, Master?" she asked, her voice losing its trace of irony as it turned alert. "I thought the visit to the Marchioness was purely… recreational."
"It was, for the most part," I replied, glancing toward the rear of the Nexus Trading House, where the high-security warehouses were located. "But Elizabeth doesn't only deal in the novelties I've given her. And, coincidentally, an auction is being held today. If Elizabeth wasn't mistaken, something interesting will be up for bidding."
"So, Adela… why don't we go take a look?"
At that moment, Elizabeth stepped out of the room, now perfectly composed, not a single strand of hair out of place. Adela and she locked eyes instantly, clashing in a silent duel that made the air in the corridor grow heavy.
"Master, follow me," Elizabeth said, breaking the tension with a self-assured smile. "I've prepared a private box especially for you."
Once we reached the auction area, I was able to distinguish several familiar faces.
On one side, Morgana Valois occupied one of the private boxes, looking particularly imposing in a violet dress that accentuated her long, night-colored hair. Though I didn't know her personally, I was aware of her repeated clashes with Elizabeth; I suspected she saw her either as a rival to defeat or someone she needed to surpass.
In another VIP section sat Valeria Astaford and Cassane Windsteel. I assumed their families had heard the rumors about today's auction and sent them to secure whatever they could.
The crown prince himself had also bothered to attend—Leonardo Demor waited impassively for the bidding to begin.
However, someone else caught my attention.
Sera Sterling was there—accompanied, of all people, by Damian Valois.
I had expected the Sterlings to send someone, especially that "witch" of the ninth circle—but that it would be Sera, and that Damian would be the one accompanying her… that was unexpected.
The auction began, unfolding with a hypnotic rhythm. The presenter, a woman with a melodious voice and calculated gestures, knew exactly when to remain silent so the nobles' desperation would drive the numbers higher.
Everything was auctioned: from enchanted weapons capable of tripling physical strength, to the infamous limit-breaking potions. The latter, though inconsistent and dependent on the user's body, represented that artificial push natural talent had denied some. And rather than spending years stuck at the same level…
From my box, I observed my half-brother, Elric Varkas. He wore an almost childish triumphant smile after winning the bid for one of those vials.
However, my attention shifted to Cassane Windsteel.
She did not share Elric's joy. Her silver eyes were fixed on an item that, though not the main attraction of the night, seemed vital to her: the Frost Pearl.
A legendary catalyst known for acting as a thermal regulator for ice mages whose mana is so unstable it threatens to freeze their own internal channels.
"Seems your fiancée is looking for a remedy, Master," Adela whispered, leaning closer with an analytical gaze. "If she doesn't get that pearl, I doubt she'll be able to maintain her 'Queen of the Academy' facade much longer."
Elizabeth let out a soft laugh, clearly not fond of Cassane.
"If I were her, I'd be more concerned about who's been driving up that pearl's price for quite a while now."
I looked toward the Valois section.
Morgana wasn't even watching the stage—she was watching Cassane with a predatory smile, subtly signaling her treasurer to keep bidding. She didn't want the pearl.
She wanted to suffocate the Windsteel family.
The hammer struck.
Cassane sank into her seat, fists clenched on her lap. She had secured the Frost Pearl—but the triumph in her blue eyes was dulled by the pallor of her face.
Morgana, across the amphitheater, snapped her fan shut with a dry sound, smiling in complete satisfaction.
"A public execution, Master," Adela murmured.
Elizabeth chuckled softly.
Then, the atmosphere shifted.
The main event had arrived.
Three wooden pieces, carved with runes from an ancient and unfamiliar language, rested upon a black velvet pedestal.
"As many of you anticipated from the rumors our House spread, today we present what are, effectively, three entries into a Legacy," the presenter announced, her voice carrying electrifying solemnity. "Doors that will soon open only for those deemed worthy."
She paused deliberately.
"Although we secured only three of these keys, each can be used by a small group—provided they enter together and meet the conditions required to compete for the inheritance."
Silence fell—heavy, suffocating.
The mention of the Age of Legends was not taken lightly. In a world where magic had become systematic and predictable, the appearance of a Legacy was like throwing a torch into a room full of gunpowder.
"Three entries…" Elizabeth whispered, her eyes reflecting the wooden pieces. "I had to move heaven and earth to secure them. I knew they'd attract the big players, but I didn't expect the atmosphere to become this… suffocating."
I looked at them with a mix of nostalgia and indifference.
Those pieces were nothing more than keys I had seen countless times across past eons.
"The Crimson Oblivion Legacy…" I murmured.
Adela tensed.
"Master, look at Prince Leonardo. If he was interested before, now he looks like a predator about to strike. And Sera Sterling… her mana is reacting to those pieces."
It was true.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the presenter continued, "bidding for the first entry will begin at fifty million gold coins…"
The room erupted—not in noise, but in wealth.
"Are you not going to intervene, Cassian?" Adela asked softly.
"What lies beyond those doors surpasses what any ninth-circle mage could have left behind," I replied calmly.
Elizabeth leaned closer.
"Elizabeth has already set aside some entries for me," I added. "If I wish to see what this inheritance holds… I can."