The main hall of the Midnight Lotus Pavilion was filled with sparkling jewels, expensive silk, and the quiet chatter of Oakhaven's richest and most powerful people. But the moment the purple-robed auctioneer stepped behind the podium, the whole room became completely silent.
From under the stage, a platform slowly rose. On a black velvet cushion sat a clear crystal box. Inside the box was one beautiful flower. Its petals looked like pure, glowing blue ice. A thick, freezing mist slowly moved inside the glass, sending out a cold spiritual energy that everyone could feel, even those in the back.
This was the thousand-year Frost-Soul Lotus.
Sitting in the shadows at the very back of the hall, Caspian felt the Fourth Bone inside his chest instantly respond. The hot, unstable energy of the Abyssal Heart seemed to calm down a little, pulled by the pure, freezing energy of the lotus. His damaged meridians desperately wanted it.
"Esteemed guests," the auctioneer announced, his loud voice bouncing off the crystal chandeliers. "A treasure born from the deepest glaciers of the Northern Wastes. The Frost-Soul Lotus can heal any spiritual injury and settle the most violent energy imbalances. It is a second chance at life for any cultivator. The starting bid is two million high-grade spirit stones!"
A wave of whispers washed over the crowd. Two million was a huge amount of money.
In the front row, Lord Valerius sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. "Two million just to start," he whispered to Silas. "If we had that much money, we could rebuild the tower's golden shield two times over."
Silas nodded nervously, his eyes fixed on the stage. "We are out of our league, Father."
Before anyone else could raise a paddle, Desmond Caldwell stood up from his VIP velvet chair. He adjusted the cuffs of his custom made crimson jacket and held his numbered paddle high for everyone to see.
"Five million spirit stones!" Desmond shouted, his sharp voice full of pure arrogance.
The crowd gasped. To jump the starting bid by three million was a massive display of wealth. It was a direct message to every other family in the room: Do not bother fighting me.
A rich merchant from the western district hesitantly raised his paddle. "Five... five and a half million."
Desmond did not even look at the merchant. He simply waved his hand to dismiss him. "Eight million. And I will keep bidding until the rest of you give up. The Caldwell Trade Union gets what it wants."
The merchant turned pale and quickly lowered his paddle, not wanting to make a powerful enemy. The room became silent again. Eight million spirit stones was an enormous amount of money. Desmond smiled with self-importance, taking in the fearful respect of Oakhaven's elite. He turned all the way around in his seat, his eyes searching the back rows until he found Caspian sitting quietly in the shadows.
Desmond locked eyes with Caspian and flashed a nasty, mocking smile, mouthing the word trash so only Caspian could see it.
The auctioneer raised his wooden hammer. "Eight million spirit stones going to Young Master Caldwell! Going once! Going twice! Are there any other bids for this priceless treasure?"
The hammer began to move down to seal the deal.
From the very back row, a calm, deeply relaxed voice cut through the silence like a sharp knife.
"Fifty million."
The auctioneer's hammer stopped an inch above the stand. The entire grand hall fell so quiet that you could hear the softest sound. Every single head in the room, including Silas and Lord Valerius, quickly turned to look at the back of the room.
Caspian was leaning back comfortably in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his hand casually raised in the air. He looked as though he had just ordered a cup of cheap tea, instead of bidding enough money to buy half the city.
Silas's mind completely stopped working. His jaw dropped open, and he grabbed the back of the chair in front of him to keep from falling over. He stared at the grey sweater, his mind screaming in panic. Fifty million! Is he trying to get us all executed!
Desmond Caldwell's smug smile vanished, instantly replaced by a deep, ugly shade of purple rage. He leaped out of his VIP chair, pointing a shaking finger directly at Caspian.
"Fraud!" Desmond screamed as loud as he could, completely forgetting his noble manners. "Absolute fraud! Auctioneer, stop the bidding! That man is Caspian, the useless, broke son in law of the Valerius family! He does not even have fifty spirit stones, let alone fifty million! He is purposely trying to ruin the auction! I demand you have your guards arrest him and break his legs for insulting the Midnight Lotus Pavilion!"
The crowd immediately began to whisper, many of them agreeing. They knew the stories about the Valerius family's pathetic son in law.
The purple-robed auctioneer frowned deeply. He signaled to the side of the stage. Instantly, the heavy doors opened, and Pavilion Manager Voss—a strict, sharp eyed man wearing a dark grey suit—marched down the aisle, with four heavily armed, Silver Tier guards beside him.
Silas squeezed his eyes shut, ready for a fight. He knew Caspian was strong, but if he fought the Pavilion guards, the Valerius family would be banned from underground trading forever.
Manager Voss stopped at the end of Caspian's row. He looked down at the faded grey sweater and the cheap canvas shoes. Voss remained professional, but his voice was completely cold.
"Sir," Manager Voss said firmly. "The Midnight Lotus Pavilion treats false bidding as a serious crime. To bid fifty million spirit stones, you must immediately show proof of liquid funds. If you cannot produce a verified bank token or a high tier credit medallion right now, my guards will forcefully remove you and your family from these premises."
Desmond crossed his arms, laughing cruelly from the front row. "Throw him in the alley, Voss! Make him crawl back to his damaged tower!"
Caspian did not stand up. He did not look angry, nor did he look nervous. He simply offered his lazy, signature smile.
"Of course, Manager Voss," Caspian said politely. "I apologize if I caused a disturbance. I am not very familiar with how surface auctions work. Will this be acceptable?"
Caspian pulled his hand out of his pocket. Using two fingers, he casually tossed a heavy, rectangular black card onto the silver tray held by one of the guards.
The heavy card landed with a solid clack.
Manager Voss picked it up. At first, he just saw a black piece of obsidian. But as the chandelier light hit the card, the crushed diamond carving of a roaring dragon flared brilliantly. Along the bottom edge, written in tiny silver runes, was the seal of the Obsidian Vault—the financial center of the Shadow Command.
Manager Voss stopped breathing.
The color completely left his face, making him as white as paper. His hands began to shake so hard that he nearly dropped the priceless card. He was the manager of the most exclusive auction house in Oakhaven; he knew the secret symbols of the true underworld. He knew that the card in his hand showed a level of wealth that could buy the very air people breathed. And he knew that the man holding it could erase Oakhaven from the map with a single phone call.
Voss's knees actually bent a little. He forced himself to stay standing, but he immediately bowed forward at a sharp, deep ninety degree angle, holding the Obsidian Dragon Card out with both trembling hands.
"I... I deeply apologize, Esteemed Sir," Manager Voss stammered, his voice breaking with complete terror. "Your... your proof of funds is more than enough. The Midnight Lotus Pavilion is greatly honored by your presence. Please forgive my disrespect."
The entire hall gasped together. Manager Voss, a man who regularly told billionaires to sit down and be quiet, was currently bowing like a frightened servant to a man in a dusty sweater.
Silas rubbed his eyes, convinced he was imagining things.
Desmond Caldwell's jaw dropped to the floor. "Voss, what are you doing!" Desmond shouted, walking a few steps down the aisle. "Are you blind? It's a fake! He is a beggar!"
Manager Voss snapped upright, spinning around to glare at Desmond. The fear in Voss's eyes was instantly replaced by deadly anger toward the young master who had almost caused him to offend a god.
"Young Master Caldwell, you will hold your tongue!" Voss barked, his voice echoing loudly. "This gentleman's bid is absolute and fully confirmed by the highest authorities! If you cannot match the bid of fifty million spirit stones, you will sit down and remain silent!"
Desmond choked on his own breath. Fifty million? He only had ten million allowed by his father for this entire auction. He was completely, utterly defeated.
The auctioneer on stage, recognizing Voss's reaction, quickly slammed his wooden hammer down so hard the stand cracked. "Sold! The Frost-Soul Lotus goes to the esteemed gentleman in the back for fifty million spirit stones!"
The crowd remained frozen in stunned silence.
Desmond's face was a mask of twisted, ashamed fury. He had tried to crush the "useless" son in law to show off his own power, and instead, he had just been publicly stepped on like a common bug in front of the city's entire elite. But Desmond was not foolish; if Manager Voss respected this man, there was a secret here that Desmond did not know.
Desmond glared at Caspian, his eyes burning with poisonous hatred. He did not scream or throw a fit. Instead, he straightened his crimson jacket, stepped out of the aisle, and walked slowly toward the exit. As he passed Caspian's row, he stopped for a brief second.
"I do not know whose pocket you picked to get that card, Caspian," Desmond sneered, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Or what kind of dirty trick you are pulling. But money cannot buy you martial power, and it cannot buy you a spine. You just humiliated the Caldwell Trade Union. You got lucky today, but watch your back. The House of Valerius will pay for this insult, and I promise you will not survive the week."
Desmond turned and stormed up the velvet stairs, his two bodyguards rushing after him.
Caspian watched him leave, his expression completely unchanged. He did not look scared. He looked like a man watching a small, annoying mosquito fly out an open window. Let Desmond plot. Let the Caldwell family come. It would only give Thorne something to do.
Silas, still standing near the front, slowly sank back into his chair. His mind was spinning in a thousand different directions. Caspian was not just a martial arts monster who could scare Gold Tier masters. He was also a man who could easily drop fifty million spirit stones without a second thought.
Silas looked down at his own shaking hands. Who did Lyra marry? he thought wildly. What is he?
A few minutes later, a terrified waiter brought the glowing crystal box to the back row, bowing deeply as he handed it to Caspian.
Caspian placed his hand on the cold glass. He could feel the pure, freezing energy waiting for him. The Frost-Soul Lotus was his. Now, it was time to fix his shattered core, because the true war for Oakhaven was only just beginning.