CHAPTER 129: ORCHID

Five days had passed since Asher turned eighteen years old, and during this time, he had done nothing but sleep, eat, and train.

Asher had nothing to do aside from these things, and he genuinely felt like he was going crazy, literally. Within these five long days, he had attempted to do anything even remotely fun... anything at all, but to no avail.

There was simply nothing.

His only option had been to enter the library, where he read up on Crymora, the surrounding Empires, and the wars that had once ravaged the world in olden times.

And yet, even after all that, Asher still felt an unbearable sense of boredom. Just because he had a perfect memory didn’t mean he was a lover of books. In truth, he only ever opened one, or even touched the spine of a book, when it was absolutely necessary.

At least during his time in the First Training Ground, there had been a sense of routine, of purpose. Wake up at dawn. Train relentlessly until nightfall. Retire to his chambers, bathe, eat, draw Astra from the surroundings, and then sleep.

It had been like clockwork. Predictable. Repetitive. But it worked. It gave him structure. It gave him direction.

Now? Now he woke up whenever he wanted. Trained whenever he wanted. Ate when he felt like it. And then... he had an obscene amount of free time on his hands.

Asher let out a long sigh as his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling above. He had long since lost count of the number of times he had cursed under his breath due to the absolute lack of technology in this world. At times, he even wondered how cavemen on Earth had survived during the Stone Age.

But in some twisted way, it made sense, they didn’t know what technology was. So they could never experience the void he now felt in its absence.

’No wonder nobles always waged war. They’re simply trying to ease their boredom,’ Asher thought, somewhat amused.

The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays casting a soft glow upon the land and streaming gently through the windows of Asher’s room.

As he lay there, lost in the spiraling depths of his thoughts, an idea suddenly occurred to him. His lips curved into a smile. It was a simple idea, almost absurdly so, but in its simplicity, it was perfect.

Since he had nothing else to do, why shouldn’t he behave like a typical young master and visit an auction house? After all, he had about ten thousand platinum coins at his disposal, which he hadn’t touched. Well, technically, he had only ever spent a single platinum coin back when he first explored the Wargrave Territory.

Sitting up with a gleam of excitement in his eyes, Asher called out, "Lyra."

His ever-present personal maid stepped into the room without a moment’s hesitation. "You called, Young Master," Lyra said respectfully as she entered.

"Is there any auction house within the Wargrave Territory?" Asher asked, silently praying there was one nearby. If not, he would simply collapse back into bed and resume his miserable state of inactivity.

Lyra replied instantly, "Yes, Young Master. There are about five of them, each varying in strength, reputation, and the level of items they auction."

"Perfect," Asher said with a satisfied nod.

Lyra raised an eyebrow in quiet confusion and asked, "Are we heading to any of these auction houses, Young Master?"

"We are," Asher replied calmly, without elaborating.

This only deepened Lyra’s confusion. As the son of a Duke, Asher had no reason to personally attend an auction. If he wanted anything, all he needed to do was mention it, and it would be delivered to him in the shortest time possible.

"May I ask why?" Lyra finally inquired, unable to suppress her curiosity.

Asher’s gaze shifted toward her. He could understand her thoughts perfectly. But he wasn’t planning to attend the auction to waste money. He simply wanted to observe, to pass the time. Maybe buy one or two items he probably wouldn’t need. That alone would bring a small sense of fulfillment.

"Sightseeing," Asher stated plainly.

A look of realization slowly appeared on Lyra’s face. She had noticed her Young Master’s growing boredom over the past few days but had remained silent, aware there was little she could do to ease his restlessness.

Asher’s thoughts wandered again. From what he had read and remembered, auction houses often became battlefields after their events concluded. Deaths were a common occurrence, as people fought over treasures they couldn’t afford in the first place.

He wasn’t going to hide his identity. He was the Tenth Sun of the Wargrave Ducal Household, and it would be foolish to pretend otherwise. He would wield the Wargrave name like a shield, especially since his personal strength was still relatively meager at this point.

But that didn’t mean he would casually stroll into an auction house with only Lyra beside him. That would be the height of stupidity, no different from suicide. He would take the Wargrave Knights with him, but this time, he needed more than just presence, he needed strength. He needed elite Knights.

After all, he was certain that some people would still attempt something, even after realizing who he was. Some were just that bold, or that stupid.

Though it might seem as though he was bringing wolves to guard him in a chicken coop, Asher knew better than to underestimate the dangers of this world.

His life was far too precious. There was no guarantee that if he died, he’d simply wake up back on Earth, in Jennifer’s arms. If such a guarantee existed, he would have jumped out of the window a year ago, the very same day he transmigrated.

"Lyra, find out if any of those auction houses are holding an auction today," Asher instructed, his tone regaining that calmNess it often carried.

Lyra nodded with her usual composure and stepped out. But the moment the door closed behind her, she moved at the peak of her speed, her steps silent but swift, determined to carry out her Young Master’s orders without delay.

Asher, meanwhile, sat back down and resumed his musing. He had read countless novels in his past life, stories filled with transmigration and reincarnation. But not one of those authors ever addressed the crushing boredom that came with being thrown into a medieval world.

’It seems they always covered it up with time skips,’ he mused.

Roughly five minutes passed before Lyra returned. Her movements were composed, her expression serene, no trace of the speed she had just demonstrated across the territory.

"Young Master, an auction house called The Orchid is holding an auction that will begin in approximately forty minutes," Lyra stated respectfully as she bowed.