Book 8 Chapter Eight; Five Gems of the Grand Lyceum
The bidding for the Cowl of Calamity came to a close, and the winner, an older man with a sharp, calculating look in his eyes, claimed the cloak for five hundred platinum coins. The crowd was abuzz with murmurs of disbelief at the hefty sum, but to Jazmel, it seemed like a reasonable price for such a powerful item. In the right hands, the cloak could be an entire army. Still, as he observed the final transaction, Jazmel realized it wasn't quite the right tool for him. It was impressive, but not his style.
As the room settled into a lull, the MC, with a wry smile on his face, held up his hands to quiet the crowd. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he spoke into the microphone. "After the intermission, our final items will be brought out the five gems and three pearls."
A ripple of excitement spread through the room as the announcement hung in the air. The mention of gems and pearls, rare and valuable treasures in their own right, had the entire audience on edge. Jazmel's attention sharpened, his interest piqued. Five gems, three pearls these were not just any common items. He could already feel the weight of their significance in the air, the promise of something unique, something powerful.
The MC allowed the moment to linger, enjoying the attention before adding, "These are no ordinary gems or pearls. They are bound to an ancient power, and each of them holds secrets only a select few can unlock."
Jazmel leaned forward in his seat, his eyes scanning the crowd around him. No one would dare pass up these items; they were bound to be the highlight of the auction, the real treasures everyone had been waiting for. He wondered who else was eyeing them. Who would be bold enough to contest him for them?
The MC smiled again, looking satisfied with the stir he'd caused. "You've waited long enough, and soon you'll see for yourselves just what makes these items so special." With that, he waved for the intermission to begin, signalling the start of a short break. The refreshments were replenished, and the air buzzed with anticipation.
Jazmel stood, stretching slightly, his eyes never leaving the stage where the final items would soon be revealed. He had already decided that he would make his move when the time came. Those gems and pearls could hold power beyond what most could imagine, and he was certain they would make for a fine addition to his collection.
The intermission dragged on, the minutes ticking by with an almost unbearable slowness. Jazmel found himself fidgeting, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of his seat. He was on the edge of his seat his mind racing with possibilities of what the five gems and three pearls could be. Rare artifacts? Mystical weapons? Knowledge bound in crystalline form? The anticipation gnawed at him, and though the refreshments were plentiful, he found little interest in eating.
Across the room, the hum of conversation grew louder. The attendees were abuzz with speculation, voices rising in excitement as theories about the final items circulated. Jazmel caught snippets of their conversations mentions of ancient relics, forbidden magics, and even whispers of world-altering power. All conjecture, but it only fuelled his own curiosity.
Beside him, Colin, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the earlier tiers, finally shifted in his seat. With a slow, deliberate motion, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as his eyes fixed on the empty stage. For once, his usual carefree demeanour was gone, replaced with a quiet intensity.
Jazmel glanced at him, intrigued by the shift. "What do you think they'll be?" he asked, his voice low but edged with excitement.
Colin didn't look away from the stage as he replied, his tone thoughtful. "Something worth the wait. Something worth fighting over." He gave a small, knowing smile, but it lacked his usual playfulness. Instead, it was sharp, calculating hinting at a deeper awareness than he often let on.
Jazmel leaned back slightly, observing his companion. Colin's focus on the upcoming items was unusual, but it was enough to further stoke Jazmel's anticipation. If even Colin, with his boundless confidence and seeming indifference, was this focused, then the five gems and three pearls were bound to be something extraordinary.
As the attendants began to circulate, clearing empty plates and replenishing drinks, Jazmel's gaze kept drifting to the stage. The lights had dimmed slightly, and the atmosphere in the room had shifted from casual chatter to a tense buzz. Everyone seemed to be waiting, just as on edge as he was.
The minutes stretched, each one longer than the last, but Jazmel's focus didn't waver. The intermission would end soon, and when it did, the true treasures of the auction would finally reveal themselves.
The first item of the final round was brought onto the stage by a single attendant, a figure unfamiliar to Jazmel. The attendant was striking, with pale, almost translucent skin that seemed to shimmer faintly under the light, like marble kissed by starlight. Their hair, a cascade of silvery strands, flowed smoothly down their back, and their eyes were an otherworldly gold, glowing faintly as they moved. Dressed in a simple but elegant robe of deep sapphire trimmed with white gold, they exuded an air of quiet authority and mystery, walking with precise, deliberate steps.
In their gloved hands, they held a small item a vial no larger than a finger. The potion inside it immediately captivated the audience. It was alive with colour, swirling in radiant waves of gold, emerald, and deep crimson, as if sunlight, forest leaves, and blood were trapped in a harmonious dance within the glass. The liquid pulsed gently, almost as if it had a heartbeat of its own.
Jazmel felt his breath catch. "It looks... alive," he murmured, leaning forward instinctively, his keen eyes trying to make out every detail of the mesmerizing potion.
The Master of Ceremony smiled, clearly pleased by the reaction. "Ah, I see this one has caught your attention, as it should. This, dear guests, is Mahten Maritis, a potion unlike any other."
The crowd leaned in as he continued, his voice rich with drama and reverence. "Mahten Maritis does not grant luck, nor strength, nor simple knowledge. No, it crafts a path. To the one who drinks it, the potion unlocks their hidden talent, the greatness buried deep within their soul. It is not merely chance but a design a plot that unravels to reveal what you were always meant to become. Eureka's Gift helps the drinker embrace their fullest potential, but beware such revelations often demand great risk to achieve."
Jazmel's eyes were fixed on the vial, his mind racing. A potion capable of reshaping one's fate, of uncovering a talent or purpose hidden even to oneself it was as tempting as it was dangerous. He could feel the energy in the room shift as the attendees whispered among themselves, debating the possibilities and worth of such an item.
The MC allowed the suspense to build before finally announcing the starting bid. "We begin at one thousand platinum coins!"
As the bidding war raged on, Jazmel remained silent, his expression unreadable. He leaned back slightly in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze drifting downward as if deep in thought. An item like Mahten Maritis was not just bold it was formidable. A potion that could alter someone's destiny, unlock talents beyond comprehension, and shape the very fabric of a person's future. Such power was both a temptation and a burden.
The voices in the auction hall grew louder and more frenzied with each bid, echoing through the chamber like the crashing of waves.
"Two thousand platinum!""Twenty-five hundred!""Three thousand!"
The numbers climbed higher and higher, the fervour building to a near fever pitch.
Jazmel closed his eyes, letting the chaos of the room wash over him. The noise was almost unbearable, a cacophony of competing ambitions and desperate dreams. His ears throbbed with the sharp rise and fall of voices, and he tuned out, retreating inward to escape the clamour.
It wasn't that he couldn't afford the potion it was that he didn't need it. His path was already carved by the blade he wielded, by the choices he'd made, and by the destiny he'd accepted long ago. An item like Mahten Maritis would be wasted on him, and he had no desire to invite whatever trials such a revelation might demand.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bidding reached its peak.
"Three thousand four hundred platinum coins!" the auctioneer's voice rang out, clear and commanding above the din. A hush fell over the crowd as the final bidder, a tall man in a crimson cloak adorned with arcane symbols, raised his hand in victory.
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The Master of Ceremony smiled with satisfaction, his gaze sweeping over the audience. "Sold!" he declared, his voice ringing with finality. "To the esteemed gentleman in red, for three thousand four hundred platinum coins."
Jazmel opened his eyes, calm and composed, as if the storm of bidding had never happened. He glanced briefly at the winner, his sharp gaze assessing the man before dismissing him just as quickly. The potion was no longer his concern. Instead, he sat back, waiting patiently for the next item to appear.
As the room settled from the frenzy of the last bid, the Master of Ceremony stood tall, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice smooth and commanding, "that was the first of our gems."
A murmur rippled through the audience; excitement renewed. Jazmel's sharp eyes narrowed, his earlier composure giving way to a quiet tension.
That was just one? he thought, his mind racing. If the first gem a potion like Mahten Maritis could incite such a response, what could the remaining four be?
The thought sent a thrill of anticipation through him. His fingers tightened slightly on the armrest of his chair as his mind shifted into focus. He would need to be ready calm, calculated, and precise when the moment came.
Colin leaned over slightly; his voice low but laced with amusement. "What are you thinking, Jazmel? You've been quiet ever since the potion."
Jazmel didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the stage as he muttered, "If the first gem was something like that... I need to see what the rest are. I have to secure something."
Colin chuckled softly. "Big ambitions, huh? Well, I'd expect nothing less from you."
Jazmel didn't reply, his focus entirely on the Master of Ceremony as the next item was prepared. He would wait, watch, and strike when the moment was right. This was more than just a display of wealth it was a chance to claim something rare, something powerful, something that might change the course of his journey.
The next attendant ascended the stage with an air of reverence, their every movement measured and deliberate. They were tall and lean, with silver hair that shimmered under the dim lights like molten steel. Their attire was elegant yet practical a deep indigo tunic embroidered with subtle golden thread in patterns resembling dragon scales. Their eyes, a piercing shade of blue, were sharp and discerning, as if weighing the worth of everyone in the room. A faint scar traced down the left side of their jaw, hinting at a life not unfamiliar with danger.
Cradled in their arms, cushioned by a velvet-lined tray, was an egg. It glowed faintly, its surface iridescent with hues of sapphire, emerald, and gold, shifting like liquid light. The room seemed to hold its breath as the egg was placed on display.
Jazmel's eyes flicked toward Paldane just as the dragon leapt to the glass screen, her smaller form trembling with excitement. She let out a sharp, high-pitched yelp.
"That!" Paldane's voice resonated in Jazmel's mind, laced with awe and urgency. "That is a dragon egg!"
The Master of Ceremony stepped forward, his tone carrying a mix of pride and gravity. "Ladies and gentlemen, what you see before you is no ordinary treasure. This is a dragon egg, one imbued with the essence of potential and legacy. I have it on good authority that whoever rears this egg will earn a bond as unbreakable as fate itself. This dragon will hatch as Tier V at the minimum, with the capacity to grow even stronger under the right care."
Gasps and murmurs filled the room, the tension palpable. Jazmel, however, leaned back in his seat, his expression neutral as he stroked the ridges of Paldane's scaled back.
"I've no need for another dragon," he muttered softly, his voice barely audible over the growing buzz of the crowd. His hand moved in a soothing rhythm along Paldane's spine, his smaller form settling, though his eyes remained fixed on the egg.
Colin smirked, leaning over with a whisper. "Not even tempted?"
Jazmel shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Paldane is more than enough. Besides," he added, his tone taking on a teasing edge, "the world doesn't need two dragons bonded to me."
The bidding war began almost instantly, the figures climbing as fast as the tension in the air. Jazmel remained quiet, his focus drifting between the eager bidders and the glowing egg. He would watch and wait, but this prize, dazzling as it was, would go to someone else.
Someone bought it for one thousand platinum coins and Jazmel sighed, waiting to see what was next.
The third gem was revealed by a new attendant, their presence commanding but understated. They were clad in sleek, charcoal-black attire with intricate silver accents that mirrored constellations. Their gait was graceful yet firm as they approached the pedestal, carrying an object wrapped in a cloth so pristine and white it seemed to radiate light. With a practiced motion, the attendant unveiled the sword.
The room collectively inhaled at the sight of it.
The sword was nothing short of a masterpiece. Its blade gleamed with a silvery sheen so polished that it reflected the world around it as if it were a mirror. Faint, golden runes were etched into the blade, glowing softly, their language ancient and unreadable to most. The edge of the blade was razor-sharp, tapering to a fine point that seemed capable of piercing not just armour but the fabric of reality itself.
The cross guard was a work of art, crafted from a shimmering metal that appeared to be a blend of gold and platinum. It was adorned with intricate filigree patterns resembling intertwining vines and blossoms, with a single sapphire embedded at its centre. The gem pulsed faintly, as if the sword itself were alive and breathing.
The grip was wrapped in deep blue leather, soft yet firm to the touch, with golden thread woven in a spiral pattern for an impeccable hold. The pommel featured a brilliant diamond-like gem, encased in a sunburst of metal that seemed to cast rays of light even in the dim auction hall.
This was not a weapon it was a legacy, a symbol of authority and power. It seemed to hum faintly, a resonant tone just at the edge of hearing, as if it whispered of battles fought and victories won.
Jazmel sighed audibly, his eyes tracing every curve, every detail of the sword. It exuded both beauty and lethality, a perfect balance between elegance and destruction.
"A sword like that…" Jazmel murmured under his breath, "…is more than a weapon. It's a destiny."
The Master of Ceremony stepped forward; his voice heavy with reverence. "What you see before you is the Blade of Aeloria, a weapon forged by Master forgers, tempered in the Light of the First Forge, and imbued with the spirit of the heavens themselves. It is said that only one who is worthy one with a heart unyielding and a soul untarnished can wield it to its fullest potential."
The room buzzed with awe and excitement as the bidding began, voices clamouring to claim the Blade of Aeloria for themselves. Yet Jazmel simply leaned back, his fingers resting lightly on the hilt of Yoru No Tsubasa. He already had a sword that carried his destiny.
As the Blade of Aeloria was taken away, the room buzzed with excitement. The Master of Ceremony raised a hand for silence, his smile growing wider. "Ladies and gentlemen, our next gem is something truly unique. An artifact unlike any we've seen before."
An attendant stepped forward, this one dressed in crimson robes trimmed with gold, their face obscured by a hood. They carried a rectangular case made of dark wood, engraved with celestial motifs. The attendant opened the case, revealing a floating orb of swirling light and shadow, no larger than a clenched fist. It pulsed with a rhythmic glow, alternating between vibrant white and deep black.
"This," the MC began, his tone dripping with mystery, "is the Eclipser's Heart. A core of pure, raw energy harvested from a collapsing star; this artifact contains the power to harmonize opposing forces. Its wielder gains unparalleled control over balance, whether it be light and shadow, chaos and order, or creation and destruction."
The room fell silent as the artifact hovered, spinning gently within its case. Jazmel squinted, his Mana-infused eyes detecting an immense reservoir of energy radiating from the orb. It felt alive, like a steady heartbeat resonating with the rhythm of the universe itself.
Before Jazmel could form an opinion, Colin leaned forward, his eyes alight with determination. "That's for me," he said under his breath, his voice low but resolute.
Jazmel raised a brow, glancing at Colin. "You sure? That thing's… potent."
Colin nodded. "It's exactly what I need. A client is looking for something from the stars."
The bidding began, and Colin wasted no time. He entered the fray with confidence, his bids rising steadily. Others in the room hesitated, the artifact's enigmatic nature intimidating them. As the price climbed, the challengers dwindled, until finally, Colin made the decisive bid: 1,500 platinum coins.
The room fell silent once more as the MC banged the gavel. "Sold! To the gentleman with the sharp eye and sharper instincts. Congratulations, sir."
As the Eclipser's Heart was brought to Colin, he cradled the orb in his hands, a look of awe and satisfaction spreading across his face. Jazmel watched him closely, noting how the artifact seemed to hum faintly in Colin's grip, as if acknowledging its new master.
Colin leaned back, a rare grin on his face. "This… this is going to change everything."
The final attendant stood off to the side, her presence commanding attention before she even stepped forward. She was tall and poised, draped in flowing robes of deep indigo, shimmering like the night sky. Stars seemed to flicker and move across the fabric, making it appear alive. Her hair, a cascade of silvery strands, was tied back with a thin, golden circlet adorned with a single black opal. Her eyes glowed faintly, one a vibrant blue and the other a piercing gold, as if she herself was infused with cosmic energy. The weight of her aura was undeniable; even Jazmel felt the subtle pressure she exuded.
The Master of Ceremony let the room hang in silence, the tension thick and electric. Finally, he gestured for the attendant to step forward. She moved gracefully, her every step measured, carrying a small, ornate chest lined with crystalline etchings. She stopped at the centre of the stage, setting the chest on a pedestal as the MC turned to address the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the MC began, his voice reverberating with dramatic gravity, "the time has come for our final item of the evening. A piece so rare, so powerful, that it has been locked away for decades, waiting for a worthy buyer."
The attendant opened the chest, revealing a token of brilliant, shifting light. The skill token pulsated with immense energy, radiating waves of Mana that made the air thick and heavy. The token itself looked like a nebula trapped in crystal, its colours swirling and morphing blues, purples, golds, and silvers mingling in an endless dance.
Jazmel's breath caught in his chest as the energy rolled over him. He didn't need his Mana eyes to feel the potency of the item; it was overwhelming.
"This," the MC continued, his voice a mixture of awe and pride, "is a Max Tier Skill Token, imbued with the ability Nebulae End. It has been tested and confirmed to be equal in strength to the strike of a monarch. The sheer destructive force of this skill is unparalleled, capable of reshaping the battlefield with a single use."
At the mention of Nebulae End, Jazmel twitched. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, as the murmur of the crowd grew into a low roar. Baek leaned toward him, his tone light yet serious. "You're not bidding? I can cover the cost if you need it."
Jazmel shook his head with a faint smirk. "I have no need for a skill like that. It's a weapon of mass destruction, not finesse. I prefer tools I can control with precision."
The bidding began at a jaw-dropping 5,000 platinum coins. The room erupted with shouts and raised hands, each bid climbing higher and faster than the last. The atmosphere was electric, the token's aura pressing down on everyone like a physical weight.
As the bidding reached 9,000 platinum coins, the room fell silent. No one dared to go higher. The MC raised his gavel, his expression gleeful. "Sold! For 9,000 platinum coins to the honoured guest in the upper balcony!"
A collective exhale swept through the room, the sheer magnitude of the price sinking in. Jazmel whistled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Nine thousand platinum… That's enough to buy an entire kingdom," he muttered.
Baek chuckled. "Not just a kingdom an empire. But for a skill like that, I'd say it's a fair price."
Jazmel nodded slowly, his mind already drifting to thoughts of what the next day might bring. Nebulae End was gone, claimed by another, but its legacy had left an impression on everyone present.