CHAPTER 105 March to the Upper City and Bidding at the Auction

The sun barely touched the tops of the manor's basalt towers near the forest when the hallways filled with the steady hum of preparations. There was no rush or frantic movement here. The girls operated with a precision I had grown accustomed to over the past months – each of them knew what to do before I even opened my mouth.

I put on a black, well-fitted mercenary coat with reinforced collars. Across my chest, I buckled a double leather harness. Raiten rested on my back – the matte, black-basalt scabbard fit snugly between my shoulder blades, while the raw, completely straight crossguard with its glowing sapphire Kaelar Core and the carved Lynx head on the pommel protruded right above my right shoulder. The weight was perfectly balanced. My hands were free, and if needed, the hilt was exactly where muscle memory guided me.

"That steel suits you, boss," Ria remarked, standing by the oak table in the dining room. The small Tiefling girl with horns held a tray with cups, her supple tail twitching with quiet amusement. "You finally don't look like a guy who just got off a farm wagon. Just watch out in the Upper City. The nobles there have sticks up their asses so deep that if they bowed, they'd poke your eye out."

"Common sense says if any of them bows too far, I'll shorten the stick, Ria," I replied with a faint smile, checking the harness buckle. "Elena, how are we looking on small change?"

Elena stepped up beside me in a tailored, elegant manor outfit with a crisp, distinguished cut. In her hand, she held a small but heavy pouch of black leather, containing the gold coins counted and cleaned by Silas.

"Everything is in perfect order, Dave," she announced with surgical calm, adjusting her cuff. "Silas provided the highest purity. Three gold coins in the pouch, the rest secured in my spatial storage. For today's auction at Aethelgard, we have a budget that allows complete freedom of movement."

Shnee was buckling her slender Celestial Silver rapier at her waist, her diamond eyes glowing with a cool, sharp light. Karys was sharpening her Abyss Claws on the edge of an oak bench, smirking aggressively under her breath with a heavy pouch of silver coins at her belt.

The four of us set out. The walk from the manor to the gates of the Upper City took less than half an hour. As we neared the center of Crossgard, the scenery shifted dramatically. The smell of stagnant water and smoke from the Lower City gave way to clean marble cobbles, wide avenues, and imposing facades of wealthy merchants' manors.

In front of the massive wrought-iron gate guarding the entry to the Aristocratic District stood guards in gleaming plate armor. They eyed our group of four with reluctant, condescending gazes, lingering on my black coat and the hilt of Raiten on my back. But before any of them could open their mouths, Elena extended her hand, presenting the invitation bearing Silas's wax seal and lightly raising the corner of her black pouch. The steel visors lifted instantly, and the guards stepped aside without a word, letting us pass.

The Aethelgard Auction House looked like a blend of an ancient temple and a central bank. High Corinthian columns of white stone, crystal chandeliers, and plush purple carpets muffled our footsteps. The main bidding hall was already filled with dozens of guests – barons in velvet cloaks, representatives of the Craftsmen's Guild in rich robes, and merchants from the Upper City.

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As we entered our assigned VIP box on the second floor, a quiet, restless murmur rippled through the hall. Most of the nobles looked up at us condescendingly, whispering among themselves about "wild mercenaries" who had been allowed among the elite.

I sat back comfortably in the armchair, resting my back and crossing my legs. Raiten on my back didn't interfere at all. Shnee stood to my right with her hand resting on her rapier's pommel, while Karys crossed her arms, observing the hall with a dangerous smirk.

The auctioneer – a short, balding man with a monocle – struck his wooden gavel against a brass disc.

"Welcome, noble gentlemen, to today's auction of rarities!" he chuckled softly, gesturing toward the stage. "We shall begin with minor artworks and runic trinkets..."

The first half-hour was as dull as dishwater. The nobles bid over carved vials, single scraps of silk, and low-rank protective stones, raising bids by two or three silver coins. I listened with lazy amusement.

Finally, a large steel chest was carried onto the stage. Two porters placed it on the oak table with a heavy thud.

"And now, a lot for true connoisseurs and masters of craft!" the auctioneer announced, opening the lid. "A complete, intact package of rare engineering raw materials harvested from deep mountain fissures! It includes eight bars of dense star-titanium, three unrefined alloy cores, and a set of rare pragmatic metals with high energy conductivity. Starting price for the entire package: thirty silver coins!"

A quiet discussion immediately erupted in the hall.

"Thirty-five silver coins," a plump guildsman in the third row called out. "Forty!" a baron in a green cloak outbid him. "Fifty silver coins!" added the craftsmen's representative, looking proudly around the room.

Small change. I glanced at Elena, who stood beside me with the pouch open. Every noble's ear turned toward our box as I raised my hand.

"Five gold coins for the entire lot," I said in a calm, clear tone that cut through the hall like a razor blade.

An absolute, dead silence fell over the Auction House.

The wooden gavel slipped from the auctioneer's hand, hitting the tabletop with a dull thud. His monocle slid from his eye and dangled on its cord. The plump guildsman in the third row turned around so fast he nearly snapped his neck, and the baron in the green cloak froze in his armchair with his mouth agape.

Five gold coins. Five years of a master carpenter's or blacksmith's wages laid on the table in a fraction of a second for a single package of materials. No stepping up silver by silver.

"W-what... what did you say sir?!" the auctioneer rasped, hurriedly grabbing his gavel from the desk.

"Common sense says do I need to repeat myself?" I asked with a cool smile, not changing my posture in the chair. "Five gold coins in cold hard cash for the entire package. Does any of the noble gentlemen wish to top that?"

Not a single noble moved. The representative of the Craftsmen's Guild swallowed hard, looking at me like I was a madman or a lord from a distant empire.

"Five gold coins... going once! Going twice... Sold to the gentleman in the upper box!" the excited auctioneer bellowed, slamming his gavel onto the brass.

Elena stepped forward and, with surgical elegance, placed five gleaming, heavy gold discs from Silas onto the box's railing. The gold clinked against the marble with a crisp, mesmerizing ring.

The chest with the star-titanium and raw materials was delivered directly to our care. My tinkering at the manor and the expansion of Grim's forge were now guaranteed top-tier raw materials.

As we left Aethelgard and stepped out onto the marble square of the Upper City, I slightly eased my sensory suppression, activating my KAI sonar (Yomi Grade II).

A spherical wave of pure, silent resonance spread through the area. In my mind, a three-dimensional layout of the surroundings rendered in real time. I noticed them immediately – four figures hidden in the shadows of the arcades and on the rooftops of neighboring townhouses. Two spies from the Craftsmen's Guild and two scouts in concealed cloaks with subtle, silver Inquisition emblems on their linings.

They kept a safe distance, tracking our every step and thoroughly rattled by the appearance of a mercenary who casually threw gold coins around without batting an eye.

I adjusted Raiten's hilt on my back, feeling the cool, familiar weight of the weapon. A sharp smirk touched my lips under my breath. The big fish in Crossgard had finally started sniffing where they belonged.