CHAPTER 79: AUCTION II

For a long breath, no hand was raised. The silence after the jeers was almost heavier than the noise itself. Even Yu Feiyan’s graceful poise flickered slightly, though her smile remained painted on like a practiced mask.

Then, from the quiet of the VIP section, a calm voice rang out:

"One thousand spirit stones."

It was Tian Lei.

The crowd’s mocking chatter faltered, replaced by startled murmurs. Heads craned toward the fifth booth, where his presence was now impossible to ignore.

"VIP Five actually bid?""That man must have lost his mind...""Or maybe he sees something we do not."

Yu Feiyan’s eyes brightened subtly. A faint, amused curve touched her lips."We have a bid of one thousand from VIP Five. Is there anyone willing to offer higher?"

The silence stretched. A few cultivators shifted uncomfortably, but no hands rose. None wished to match such a price for something they deemed worthless.

Yu Feiyan lifted her hand with graceful finality."Very well. One thousand spirit stones, once... twice... Sold, to VIP Five."

The gavel struck, and the sound echoed like a subtle drumbeat through the hall.

A servant moved quickly, bowing before carrying the wooden box toward Tian Lei’s booth. The rusted blade within lay motionless, unimpressive to all eyes but his.

As it entered his possession, Tian Lei’s gaze deepened. His fingers brushed lightly against the broken metal. Cold. Lifeless. Yet beneath that surface, he felt it again—the faintest stir of something vast, sealed, waiting.

While the others laughed quietly at his supposed foolishness, Tian Lei leaned back in his seat, expression unchanged.

A gamble, he thought, a faint glimmer passing through his eyes. But perhaps... one that will pay greater than any pill or trinket shown tonight.

And as the auction pressed on, the broken blade lay quietly at his side, silent as though dead—yet not truly gone.

The auction moved on, the broken blade resting in its wooden box beside Tian Lei. He did not test it immediately—his eyes were calm, almost indifferent, as if the rusted weapon were nothing more than a discarded ornament.

Yu Feiyan’s graceful voice filled the hall again.

"Next item—Heavenly Dew Jade. A stone refined from the tears of spirit beasts, capable of nurturing one’s meridians. Starting at five hundred spirit stones."

Bidding erupted like thunder. The atmosphere, once mocking Tian Lei, quickly forgot him.

Inside the fifth booth, Tian Lei’s presence remained composed, his hand lifting only when something worthy of a true cultivator’s pursuit appeared.

The first treasure unveiled was a Beast Core of a Sky-Tearing Wolf, pulsing with feral light and brimming with undiluted essence. Murmurs rippled through the crowd at its rarity.

"Five thousand," Tian Lei bid, his tone steady. After a brief clash of offers, silence fell—the core was his.

Next came a Nine-Petal Spirit Lotus, its crystalline petals glowing faintly, carrying the power to cleanse marrow and fortify meridians. Dozens of disciples leaned forward, their sect elders whispering sharply.

"Seven thousand."

"Ten thousand."

"Thirteen thousand," Tian Lei stated calmly. The hall hushed at his decisiveness, and none dared push further.

A Celestial Jade Slip followed, etched with runes of enlightenment that shimmered faintly with Dao resonance. Even the most arrogant young masters stirred uneasily, afraid to reveal greed too openly.

"Twenty thousand," Tian Lei’s voice rang out, and the slip was swiftly claimed.

Soon after, the attendants carried forth a chunk of Starforged Divine Iron, its surface reflecting starlight though no light touched it. Blacksmith clans stirred, yet hesitation bound them. Tian Lei lifted his hand.

"Fifteen thousand." None contested. The ore was his.

Piece by piece, he collected items of unquestionable might—herbs that could defy death, ores worthy of supreme blades, cores of beasts that once reigned over mountains.

By the time the auction neared its climax, the murmurs in the hall had shifted. No longer were they simply noting his precision—they questioned his very identity.

"Who exactly sits in VIP Five...?"

"Every bid lands like a blade—measured, unshakable."

"He spends like a noble young master, yet with the eye of a seasoned cultivator."

Even Yu Feiyan, flawless in her composure, found her gaze inevitably straying toward that veiled booth. It was as though the auction’s current bent itself around him, each of his quiet words leaving a weight none could ignore.

Then came the final offering of the night. The velvet drapes were pulled aside, revealing a scroll sealed in gold and bound with flowing runes—an Heaven-rank cultivation method. The moment its aura spread, half the hall rose to their feet.

"Impossible..."

"A complete Heaven-rank art?!"

The grand hall erupted. Rogues, sect disciples, and wandering cultivators alike surged with hunger in their eyes, the atmosphere turning savage—like hyenas scenting blood.

Yet within the fifth booth, silence reigned.

Tian Lei did not lunge forward with frantic bids, nor did his voice press to outmatch theirs. He merely sat unmoving, shadowed by the curtains. A faint smile curved at his lips, and a glint of cold intent passed through his eyes.

The storm broke loose the instant Yu Feiyan’s words fell.

"Two million spirit stones!"

"Two million five hundred!"

"Three million!"

The numbers shot skyward in a frenzy, each cry sharper than the last. Sect heirs with swollen pride clashed against wandering rogues who had scraped together their fortunes, while shadowy bidders hidden in other booths joined with cold precision.

The golden scroll’s aura pulsed with every increase, as if mocking the desperation it inspired.

"Four million!"

"Four point two!"

"Five million!"

Tension rattled through the hall. Voices grew hoarse, fists clenched upon seats, and still the figures soared higher. Yu Feiyan’s jade-like voice cut through the chaos with practiced poise, yet even she could feel the raw edge of greed thickening the air.

Meanwhile, in VIP Five, not a single word was spoken. Tian Lei leaned back, half-lidded eyes watching the spectacle as though it were nothing more than a play staged for his amusement. His hand idly tapped the armrest, calm and unhurried, his silence forming its own pressure that seemed to weigh upon the other bidders.

Outside, the final war of numbers raged.

"Eight million!"

"Eight and a half!"

"Nine million spirit stones!"

The atmosphere verged on eruption, sect disciples nearly rising to blows, rogue cultivators snarling like beasts.

At last, with a single thunderous bid, the hall fell still. One faction claimed the scroll, though their triumph carried the edge of ruin.

The hammer struck.

Bang.

"The Heaven-rank cultivation art is sold."

A collective exhale swept through the grand hall, some with relief, others with bitter regret. The frenzy ebbed, leaving only whispers of awe and envy.

The one who finally secured the Heaven-rank art was, unsurprisingly, a sect disciple. Yet the moment the deal was struck, his fate was sealed.

"Poor guy," Tian Lei murmured, shaking his head as he watched the young man bolt out of the hall, dozens of hungry eyes trailing after him like wolves.

The auction itself did not falter. After all, that single scroll was not the only Heaven-rank technique on offer. Three more soon followed, each unveiling stirring the crowd into a frenzy. Bids soared like fire, voices clashed with desperation, and one by one the treasures were claimed—every victor leaving the hall with a target painted on their back.

At last, the final gavel fell. The grandeur of the night dimmed, the lights of the hall softened, and the storm of greed slowly ebbed away.

Tian Lei, silent throughout the chaos, rose from his seat. Without fanfare, he left through a side passage, the shadows of the auction fading behind him.

By the time he returned to his inn, the city outside was restless, echoes of pursuit and battle faintly audible in the night. Within the quiet of his room, Tian Lei set down the sealed cases of his purchased treasures. Yet his eyes lingered not on the rare herbs or glittering ores.

Instead, he drew forth the unassuming object that had cost him the least: the rusted, broken blade.

Its edge was chipped, its surface marred by time, yet a strange, imperceptible weight lingered around it. Tian Lei narrowed his eyes, running a finger along the corroded metal.

Tian Lei sat cross-legged on the creaking bed, the broken blade laid before him. The rust seemed ordinary, but his instincts whispered otherwise.

Closing his eyes, he summoned forth the power of his Invincible Soul Sense. His consciousness surged outward, piercing through the faint veil cloaking the fragment. For a moment, the resistance was sharp, as though a hidden will barred entry. But Tian Lei’s soul force was overwhelming—unyielding as a mountain. With a single focused push, the thin Soul Veil shattered like mist under sunlight.

At once, the rusted surface trembled, and a faint, ancient resonance spread through the room. The mundane blade revealed its true essence, and what appeared before Tian Lei’s inner vision was not merely a fragment of steel...

It was a sealed dimension.

His soul sight expanded within, and he beheld a desolate, dim-lit space. At its center rested a massive coffin, ancient runes crawling faintly across its surface like living chains. Surrounding it were scattered relics: several cracked stones glowing with residual spiritual light, a set of jade slips radiating faint knowledge, and among them, books bound in worn leather, each exuding a chilling aura as though they held secrets not meant for mortal eyes.

Tian Lei’s brows furrowed. His breath stilled.

"A coffin... inside a broken sword?" he muttered softly, both wary and intrigued.