CHAPTER 149: CORELIGHT SIGIL

As the auctioneer removed the silk cover, gasps of curiosity and anticipation rippled through the grand hall. On the overhead screens, the object was broadcast in high resolution for every guest in the hall to get a clearer view.

Beneath the crimson cloth sat a transparent crystal-glass case. Inside it, was the upper torso of a female mannequin, elegant and smooth. Draped over the mannequin was a sleeveless vest that, at first glance, appeared deceptively plain.

It didn’t gleam like gold, nor shimmer like enchanted steel. Instead, it had the muted shine of brushed silver, almost like dim moonlight caught in cloth. It looked thin... soft even. Some guests exchanged puzzled looks, clearly unimpressed.

Those who had waited eagerly for the grand finale of the auction now wore expressions of disappointment. "Was this the rumoured legendary item?" was the question on their minds.

The auctioneer, sensing the atmosphere shift, raised his hand and said, "I understand your initial reaction. It looks plain, unassuming even. But that, my friends, is one of its greatest strengths."

He gestured dramatically toward the vest and continued, "What you are seeing is not an ordinary piece of armour. This is the Vest of the Mytherial Moon. Certified by our most trusted experts, this armour is woven from Mytherial Silk, a near-extinct material crafted from the threads of the elusive Astral Moths... creatures found only in the Valley of the Thousand Stars in the dark realm of Molgrath."

The screen zoomed in on the texture of the vest, revealing the intricate weaves within.

"To the touch, it feels like satin. But strike it with steel, claw, or spell... the fibers tighten, transforming into a barrier harder than any known alloy from Earth or the other worlds."

Murmurs spread among the audience.

"This vest doesn’t rely on bulky plating or layered leather. It’s light, flexible, and adapts to the wearer’s body. It enhances your mobility... you can fight, run, dance, or train with ease. The threads are woven with ancient arcane runes, which resonate with the wearer’s spiritual aura and provide tailored resistance to incoming attacks. According to our tests, no weapon below Heaven Grade can pierce it."

Gasps and rustles of surprise now echoed through the crowd.

The auctioneer paused briefly, then his tone turned serious.

"However, there is one crucial caveat. This vest only activates its protective enchantments when worn by females. We do not yet understand the reason, but males and gender-neutral beings will not be able to trigger its full potential."

A ripple of confusion passed among the attendees.

"The vest has been thoroughly tested," the auctioneer assured them. "It is not broken, nor is it cursed. It is simply... selective."

He nodded toward the waiting auction staff.

"We will be accepting bids now. But there will be a alteration... this item cannot be purchased with money. The seller is seeking an item of equal rarity... specifically, something with healing properties. Something that cannot be found on the open market."

Around the room, many raised their hands. Auction staff moved efficiently, distributing parchment and pens to those interested.

Each guest scribbled down their offer and seat number, then sealed their bid and handed it back.

In VIP Box 2, Erevan Brontes Lychos stared at the screen in thought. The vest was perfect... lightweight, elegant, and powerful. It would make an ideal gift for his daughter. But what healing item did he possess that could impress a dragon?

The seller was clearly not a common collector. No ordinary elixir or restoration potion would do. After long contemplation, Erevan pulled out his phone and called Sarika Somavati Harivamsa.

She picked up after the second ring. "My Lord, I was busy with other things."

"I need your insight," Erevan said. "There’s a Heaven Grade armor in this auction... a vest that would suit a girl perfectly. But the seller refuses money. They’re asking for a healing item... something that would interest them regardless of grade."

He explained everything in detail, including the item’s properties and the seller’s requirements.

Sarika fell silent for a few seconds.

"I see... then there are several things we must consider carefully," she said at last. "First, the seller is a dragon. That alone narrows the possibilities. Dragons already have access to the most powerful healing herbs, elixirs, and ancient fairy remedies known on Earth."

She continued, "Second, dragons don’t fear death the way humans do. They live for millennia and accept death when the time comes. Which means... this isn’t about extending life. This is about curing something. An illness or poison."

Erevan nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the glass-encased vest.

Sarika said, "Third, if a dragon is seeking help from Earth, then the ailment must not be from here. I suspect it came from Molgrath... perhaps something alien to our natural laws. Something the fairies and alchemists haven’t seen before."

"You’re thinking... poison?" Erevan asked.

"Maybe. Or something worse," Sarika replied gravely. "If a dragon has fallen ill, the poison must be extremely potent and injected in a quantity most creatures can’t even produce. Which makes one possibility very real... the dragon’s soul might have been tainted by the Abyss."

Erevan’s heart sank. "That would explain why even fairies couldn’t help."

She sighed. "Exactly. But I might have a solution."

"You do?" His voice perked up.

"In our ancient temple," she said slowly, "there lies an ancient relic... the Corelight Sigil. It’s a soul-restructuring artifact. It was once used by our ancestors to rebuild damaged souls. It can purge foreign entities, including abyssal corruption, from one’s soul entirely."

Erevan’s breath caught. "That could work."

"But there’s a cost," Sarika warned. "It consumes one thousand low-grade spiritual crystals, or an equal amount of spiritual energy. And... it has a side effect. The person may lose fragmented memories in the process. Never their essence, never their identity... but some memories could vanish."

Erevan absorbed the information. "And you’re willing to use it?"

"Yes. But only if the deal is worth it. I do not want the name ’Corelight Sigil’ spread across the realms," she said firmly. "Tell them only this: ’You know someone who can perform a ritual to reconstruct the soul, restoring purity and banishing all foreign influences. The ritual preserves essence, but some memory loss is possible. In exchange, they must offer you the vest and the energy required for the rite.’"

Erevan nodded. "I’ll present it carefully."

"Good," she said. "I trust you’ll handle it with the secrecy it demands. If it truly is an abyss-tainted soul, this might be their last hope."

After ending the call with Sarika, Erevan took a deep breath and called for the staff member waiting outside the VIP box. The attendant entered promptly, bowing with practiced courtesy.

"At your service, my Lord," he said.

"I need a pen and some paper," Erevan requested.

The staff member nodded and swiftly handed him the required items. Without wasting time, Erevan wrote down his offer in clear, decisive script. His handwriting, although elegant, bore the unmistakable weight of urgency.

"An ancient soul-purification ritual, capable of restoring a tainted dragon soul. Guaranteed to eliminate all abyssal corruption. No side effects on essence, but minor memory loss may occur. Ritual requires one thousand low-grade spiritual crystals. I will offer this in exchange for the Vest of the Mytherial Moon."

After finishing, he folded the parchment neatly and sealed it with the provided wax. He handed it over to the staff.

"Please deliver this to the auctioneer at once," he instructed.

The staff member bowed again and exited the room.

More than ten minutes passed. In that brief silence, everyone in Erevan’s entourage sat tensely, glancing at one another, each wondering if his bid would make the cut. Finally, the auctioneer’s voice echoed throughout the hall once again.

"We have now concluded the final round of this month’s Elysium Auction," he announced.

A brief pause followed before he continued.

"VIP Boxes 2, 4, and 8, as well as Seat Numbers 57, 148, and 293, are requested to meet with the item’s owner backstage for further discussion. All other offers have been respectfully declined by the seller."

A murmur ran through the crowd as the selected parties were announced.

The auctioneer smiled faintly and added, "Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes the Elysium Auction for this month. Thank you for your participation. Winners may proceed backstage to make payments and collect their respective items. We hope to see you again next month."

With that, he stepped down from the stage and vanished behind the curtain.

Inside Erevan’s box, a thoughtful silence settled over the room.

He was just beginning to consider his next steps when a polite knock came at the door.

"Enter," Erevan said calmly.

A staff member walked in, balancing several finely-decorated boxes. He bowed and announced, "My Lord, I’ve brought the items you successfully won during the earlier sessions. Please inspect them at your leisure. You may complete payment via card or by transferring directly to our auction account."

Erevan glanced at his secretary, who nodded and promptly stepped forward. She produced a sleek, black platinum card and handed it to the staff member. With another respectful bow, the attendant accepted the card and exited.

While the secretary processed the payment, the others in the room began opening the boxes. Erevan personally examined each item. All were pristine, carefully packed with soft cushioning and magical seals to preserve their condition.

Just as they finished checking the items, another knock came.

This time, it was Fiona, another notable figure among the VIP guests. She stepped in and gave a formal bow.

"My Lord," she said respectfully, "I wasn’t aware you had placed a bid on the final item. I offer to forfeit my bid in your favor if you so desire."

Erevan smiled politely, his gaze calm.

"There’s no need for that," he said gently. "We still don’t know exactly what the owner is looking for. If your offer ends up being selected, you can sell the item to me afterward. I have no intention of forcing a result."

Fiona nodded, a trace of admiration flickering in her eyes. "As you wish. I simply wished to show courtesy."

With that matter settled, Erevan rose from his seat.

"Well then, shall we?" he said.

Fiona and the others with him fell into step as they made their way out of the room. Together, they headed toward the backstage meeting chambers to meet the seller.