Chapter 86: Tome of the Unknown

On the raised wooden stage in front of us stood a tall, elegant owl beastman wearing a tailored black tailcoat and silver wire-rimmed spectacles. He held a small mahogany gavel in his feathered wing, standing behind a polished obsidian podium.

Beside the podium sat three covered display tables, but my focus remained locked on the center of the stage.

Resting on a heavy stone pedestal was the object I had spotted earlier through the frosted glass.

It’s a massive, ancient iron book, easily three inches thick and bound by four crisscrossing chains of midnight-black metal. Dark, thread-like wisps of aura drifted off its iron binding, fading into the air like oily smoke.

I pulled my loupe down over my right eye under the shadow of my hat, activating my Locksmith’s Eye.

BZZZT.

The world shifted into vibrant golden structural lines, overlaid with glowing mana currents.

When I looked at the iron book, my breath hitched slightly.

The black chains surrounding the tome weren’t made of normal iron. They were forged from a metal the same from the coffin, an ancient metal crafted using high-density dark core fragments. But what shocked me wasn’t the metal—it was the internal lock mechanism holding the chains together.

It wasn’t a mechanical keyway. It was a Dark Mana Seal.

Inside the central padlock on the book’s spine, millions of tiny, razor-thin black mana threads were woven into a complex, chaotic knot. They twitched and writhed like tiny living parasites, constantly re-weaving themselves to prevent any mana from penetrating the interior.

‘That’s not just a grimoire,’ I realized, my mind racing as my golden core thrummed in response. ‘The book itself isn’t the item… it’s a containment cell. Whatever is written or sealed inside that iron tome is leaking corrupted thread mana into the room.’

“Welcome, distinguished lords, ladies, and grandmasters of the realm!” the owl auctioneer announced in a smooth, resonant voice that echoed perfectly across the glass acoustics.

“Welcome to the Annual Exclusive Assembly of the Grand Trade Palace! Tonight, we present six rare, unregistered artifacts recovered from the Deep Trench of the Northern Wilds!”

The crowd applauded softly, the rustle of silk and quiet whispers filling the room.

“We shall begin with our first lot,” the auctioneer continued, gesturing to the first display table. An assistant pulled back the velvet cloth, revealing a glowing, fist-sized crystal cluster pulsing with bright green light.

“A pristine, uncut Level 9 Emerald Wind Core, extracted from a seven-hundred-year-old Tempest Drake! Perfect for fueling high-tier flight vessels or constructing localized weather barrier defense! Bidding starts at three hundred gold coins!”

“Four hundred!” a badger trade lord called out, raising his wooden bidding paddle.

“Five hundred gold!” a leopard noble countered immediately.

“Six hundred!”

I watched quietly as the bidding war erupted. Within three minutes, the wind core sold for an astounding nine hundred and fifty gold coins.

Tibbar leaned over, his long ears trembling as he whispered into my ear, “Nine hundred gold… Silvester, that single rock could buy three whole streets in the Lower City! These nobles are throwing money around like it’s dry autumn leaves!”

“In the Upper City, mana cores are power, Tibbar,” I replied softly. “Power commands wealth.”

The auction moved swiftly through the next three items. A rare set of mithril-threaded light armor sold for one thousand two hundred gold.

A sealed vial of ancient leviathan blood fetched one thousand five hundred gold, bought by a wealthy alchemist guildmaster from the Eastern Provinces.

With every passing item, the tension in the room steadily rose. Everyone knew that the lower-tier lots were merely appetizers for the true artifact resting in the center of the room.

“And now, my esteemed guests,” the owl auctioneer said, his voice dropping an octave as his sharp eyes swept over the attentive crowd.

He turned and pointed his wing toward the stone pedestal in the center of the stage. “We arrive at our grand feature of the evening. Item Number Five: The Tome of the Unknown.”

An expectant silence fell over the gallery. Even the soft clinking of wine glasses ceased entirely.

“This artifact was uncovered deep within the ruins of the First Era of Dragon War,” the auctioneer explained, stepping closer to the pedestal. “For three hundred years, the Imperial Grand Academy of Mages, along with seventeen Master Locksmiths from the Capital, have attempted to breach its chains. All have failed.”

He paused, letting his words sink into the minds of the eager audience.

“Our expert mages have confirmed that the book contains a dense, concentrated spell-weave matrix from a forgotten civilization,” the auctioneer continued. “Whoever manages to unlock this tome will possess secrets of ancient mana manipulation that could alter the balance of power in the entire province! Bidding for the Tome of the Unknown starts at… two thousand gold coins!”

A collective gasp echoed through the gallery. Two thousand gold coins was a staggering sum, enough to equip an entire battalion of border knights for a year.

“Two thousand two hundred gold!” Marquis Aaron spoke up first, his deep, commanding voice instantly filling the room. He leaned back on our velvet couch, his sharp green eyes fixed intently on the iron book.

“Two thousand five hundred!” called out an elderly fox noble sitting near the left balcony, clutching a gold-headed cane.

“Three thousand gold!” Lord Julius suddenly shouted from the back, stepping forward into the aisle with a arrogant tilt of his chin. He glanced toward our couch, clearly attempting to flex his financial dominance in front of his father and sister.

Marquis Aaron frowned slightly at his son’s reckless bid, but before he could raise his paddle again, a cold, rasping voice echoed from the shadowed corner of the top row.

“Five thousand gold coins.”

The entire room turned instantly toward the source of the bid.

Sitting in the dim shadows of the top corner was a tall, skeletal figure wrapped entirely in a dark indigo cloak. His face was obscured by a deep hood, but two pale, sickly green eyes glowed from beneath the darkness. On his right hand, a single ring carved from black bone glinted under the violet mana lights.

My Locksmith’s Eye flared automatically.

Around the hooded man’s shoulders, invisible to everyone else in the room, floated thin, dark strands of black thread mana. The exact same corrupted energy radiating from the locked iron book on the stage.

‘He’s here for the book,’ I thought, my body instantly going on high alert. ‘That cloak isn’t just hiding his face; it’s hiding a blqack thread mana core. He didn’t come to buy it, he came to make sure no one else gets it.’

“Five thousand gold coins from the gentleman in the top gallery!” the owl auctioneer called out, his voice trembling slightly at the astronomical figure. “Is there any further bid?”

Marquis Aaron narrowed his eyes, sensing something off about the hooded stranger. He raised his paddle once more. “Six thousand gold.”

“Ten thousand gold,” the hooded man stated flatly, without a single second of hesitation.

Murmurs of shock erupted across the gallery. Ten thousand gold coins was an unheard-of price for an unopened, unproven artifact.

“Ten thousand gold?” Tibbar choked on his own breath, clutching his chest. “Silvester… that person is insane!”

“He’s not insane, Tibbar,” I whispered, my left hand quietly dropping to my side beneath my coat sleeve. My fingers tapped the outer casing of my Dragon Bracelet. “He knows what’s inside.”

Marquis Aaron slowly lowered his paddle, his military instincts clearly signaling danger. “Captain Dolman,” the Marquis said quietly, calling the commander of the guards over to his side. “Have four of your knights quietly flank that hooded buyer. Query his credentials with the front gate registry.”

“At once, My Lord,” Captain Dolman nodded, signaling to three armored beastman knights.

On stage, the owl auctioneer raised his mahogany gavel high into the air. “Ten thousand gold coins, going once… going twice…”

“Wait!” Lord Julius suddenly shouted, his face red with frustration as he refused to be outdone in front of the high assembly. “Ten thousand five hundred gold!”

“Julius, sit down, you fool!” Marquis Aaron barked, his voice laced with thunderous authority. “Do not bid on things you do not understand!”

“Father, I can unlock it!” Julius argued stubbornly, raising his hand toward the stage. “Our family mages can force the seal open with—”

CLACK.

The hooded man in the top row didn’t raise a bidding paddle. Instead, he slowly lifted his right hand, snapping his gloved fingers together with a dry, hollow sound.

The pale green glow in his eyes flared violently.

Instantly, the dark thread mana radiating from the iron book reacted. The black threads holding the book’s chains flared with dark red light and vibrated.

CRACK

CRACK

CRACK!

The giant crystal chandelier floating beneath the central glass dome suddenly sputtered. The bright blue mana core at its center turned a sickly, muddy brown as black thread energy surged through the ceiling wires!

“What is happening?” a noblewoman screamed as the floating chandelier dropped five feet, swaying wildly as sparks rained down onto the marble floor!

“Security! Protect the Lord Governor!” Captain Dolman shouted, drawing his heavy broadsword.

Enjoying the journey? Don’t let the adventure stop here!