As the auction went on, the items remained relatively ordinary. Some were won by the ground floor or the first floor private rooms.
The seasoned guests, however, recognized this rhythm. It was the calm before the storm. The finale was drawing near.
Finally, after the passing of an incense stick's time, the old man on the stage retrieved a familiar, exquisitely carved black box from his storage bag and slowly presented it to the crowd.
"This will be our last item for today," he announced calmly.
In an instant, an intense wave of sword qi burst out, accompanied by a trace of sword intent. It surged across the entire auction house like a cold gust from the edge of a blade.
Everyone shivered, the chill seeped into their bones. On the ground floor, some of the weaker cultivators collapsed, unable to withstand the pressure.
Just as quickly, the old man sealed the box again. The entire hall remained stunned for several heartbeats, their minds reeling from the residual pressure.
"In this box lies a Quasi Third Rank Sword Talisman," the old man finally spoke, his tone more solemn than ever.
"It was crafted by one of the Supreme Elders of the Cloud Sword Sect. Though technically a failed product unable to fully reach the threshold of a true Third Rank Talisman its raw power rivals, if not surpasses, that of any standard attack talisman of its grade."
He paused, allowing the significance to sink in.
"The talisman is imbued with Sword Qi and a hint of sword intent. Its effect, when activated, is comparable to a full powered strike from an early stage Core Formation cultivator."
Even before the old man could continue, murmurs of disbelief buzzed through the upper floors.
In one of the second floor private rooms, Li Zhenghai had risen to his feet the moment the talisman's aura touched him. His sharp eyes locked on the sealed black box, his interest now fully piqued. But alas, the talisman had already been seal away.
In another private room, Wu Sheng's eyes gleamed like fire. He turned his gaze slightly, signaling Qing Nu. She met his glance and understood instantly.
"Chief Wu," she began, voice crisp, "according to our pre-approved budget, we have thirty thousand nine hundred spirit stones left. While we could draw more from the treasury, I advise strongly against it. If the price exceeds the budget, we should withdraw." Her words were firm, calculated.
Wu Sheng let out a slow breath and gave a reluctant nod.
At the Mu Family's side, Mu Renlong gripped the edge of the table tightly. The temptation of such a talisman was nearly unbearable.
"If we obtain that talisman…" he muttered to himself, "we'd no longer need to fear the encroachments of our enemies. Even if they came knocking, I could end them with a single strike."
In the first floor private room, Lan Rui sat frozen. Even through the protective array, he had nearly collapsed when the Sword Qi flooded the auction hall. His mind was still reeling from the talisman's aura, the raw killing intent leaving a cold residue in his veins.
"Sister Wei," he asked with a pale face, "even though that's only a Quasi Third Rank talisman, how could its power rival a true Third Rank one? How did something like that even appear here?"
Wei Xin narrowed her eyes, visibly troubled.
"I don't know," she admitted, voice laced with doubt. "This kind of item is enough to sway the outcome of a battle between Foundation Establishment cultivators perhaps even ward off a Core Formation expert if used at the right time. If one of those cultivators were here today, they would definitely fight for it."
She sipped her tea to compose herself, then added, "The price alone tells a story. Ordinary Quasi Third Rank talismans go for twenty to twenty five thousand spirit stones. But this one, imbued with sword intent and forged by a Supreme Elder of Cloud Sword Sect, is no ordinary item."
She looked him in the eyes, serious now. "Fifty thousand spirit stones is not unlikely. If multiple factions compete, it could reach sixty thousand."
As her words settled, the old man on stage announced:
"The starting price is twenty thousand spirit stones. Minimum increments are one thousand. Let the bidding begin."
Silence followed. No one on the ground floor dared to bid. Their eyes turned upward toward the second floor. All waited with bated breath.
"Twenty thousand!" Mu Renlong was first to speak, testing the waters.
A moment later, Wu Sheng raised the bar without hesitation.
"Thirty thousand!" His voice was firm, but his eyes betrayed no joy. He knew it was merely the beginning.
As expected, another voice soon followed.
"Thirty five thousand." Li Zhenghai's calm tone echoed through the hall.
Wu Sheng exhaled sharply. That bid had sealed it. He was out.
Still, Mu Renlong gritted his teeth and bid again.
"Thirty six thousand!"
The room held its breath.
Then came Li Zhenghai's response unflinching, unhurried
"Forty thousand."
The weight of that number echoed louder than the voice that spoke it.
Mu Renlong's hands clenched into fists. Technically, he could still go higher. But the family council had set limits. To push further without approval would place immense strain on their resources and worse, raise questions.
He sighed and leaned back, defeated.
The old man, seeing no further bids, began the count.
"Forty thousand going once."
A beat passed.
"Going twice."
The hall fell silent, breathless.
"Going trice…"
"Sold!"
The hammer fell. The room erupted into murmurs once more, but no further bid came. The talisman had found its owner.
Unusually, the old man did not hand the box to a maid. Instead, he tucked it away himself, bowed respectfully to the audience, and announced:
"Thank you to all honored guests for attending this rare event. I hope the service and offerings were satisfactory. The next auction will be held a decade from now. Until then… farewell."
With those words, he vanished from the stage like a ghost.
One by one, the guests began to leave. In the private rooms, polite gestures were exchanged, and doors quietly opened.
On the first floor, Lan Rui and Wei Xin remained seated, sipping their tea and making light conversation, though their minds lingered on the sword talisman.
Meanwhile, on the second floor, the Li Family remained. The Mu Family and Crimson Blade Gang had already departed.
Time passed. Yet the winning item had not yet arrived.
Li Zhenghai's brow furrowed slightly. Just as he was about to speak, a knock echoed on the door.
He extended his divine sense and his frown deepened. The one outside was not a maid.
The door opened.
A man with black hair and a flowing blue robe stepped inside. A sheathed sword hung from his hip, his aura neither dominating nor humble. Calm, yet sharp like a drawn blade concealed in its scabbard.
"Pardon my sudden appearance," the man said with a polite smile. "May I sit?"
Li Zhenghai exhaled slowly. "Please, come in, Fellow Daoist Ji. My apologies for not welcoming you from afar." He gestured to the seat, though he remained still.
His mind, however, was filled with questions.
Why had Ji Wuqing, the Guardian of the Cloud Market himself, come to deliver the talisman?
Something wasn't right.
.....