Chapter 180 : Gold of Pride (1)
Gold of Pride (1)
Ian's office.
Ian picked up the small glass vial resting on his desk.
It was the blood of the Archbishop of Pride, Albrecht.
He had been putting this off, busy catching up on maintenance, but now it was time to extract the information hidden inside the bastard's mind.
Since the man had been secretly operating as a high priest of the Empire, he was sure to possess a wealth of significant information.
― Ssss.
Ian opened the cap and breathed in the strong, metallic smell of blood.
'As expected.'
Albrecht's memories were filled with fascinating information.
Demon Cult spies within the Imperial royal family, hidden strongholds of the Pride sect, and...
'The Imperial Finance Minister, Count Goldman...?'
Ian's eyes narrowed.
Count Goldman was the minister in full control of the Empire's treasury and budget.
But at the same time—
His true identity was as one of the Archbishops of Pride, a Demon Cult spy who managed massive funds and served as the financial lifeline for the Pride sect.
'Hmph...'
One Archbishop of Pride was the Empire's Grand Priest in charge of religion, while another was an official controlling the flow of money.
At this rate, the Empire was practically the personal playground of the Pride sect.
'I'll have to perform urgent surgery at a national level.'
He would extract the Demon Cult—this parasite—from the body of the Empire.
Ian owed the Empire nothing, but he couldn't allow the Demon Cult to fatten itself on the Empire's blood.
'Fortunate timing. Count Goldman. He's headed this way.'
Goldman's next destination was none other than the main estate of the Greysel family.
His goal was to attend the Greysel family auction and sweep up all the family's assets for a pittance.
'An auction...'
A bitter smile formed on Ian's lips.
Not long ago, after Hugo died, the position of family head of the Greysel family was taken by Ian's younger brother, Rufus Greysel—a troublemaker as bad as Hugo.
Rufus had organized an auction to sell off everything the family owned.
'He's digging up the ancestral tombs and ripping out the family's roots. Even Hugo never dared touch that, even at the end.'
Hugo had been greedy and vain but ultimately a coward.
In his youth, Hugo had witnessed the overwhelming martial prowess of former family heads—his brother and father—innumerable times.
That fear had been engraved deep in his bones, so he hadn't dared dig up their graves to sell off the burial goods.
But Rufus was different.
He had never witnessed the dignity of the former heads and lacked even the slightest bit of pride, being nothing but a beast obedient to his desires.
'Ancestral arms, secret manuals, and even the family's last remaining deed documents and properties...'
All the heritage of Greysel was about to be put up for auction.
And Goldman aimed to devour it all and turn the Greysel domain into a forward base for the Demon Cult.
'I can never allow that.'
Ian stood from his seat.
This time, there was no need to hide his identity or conceal his face.
He was going to defend his roots—his own family.
He planned to enter the auction house proudly as the eldest son of the Greysel family.
* * *
The grand mansion of the Greysel family.
Once the home of martial valor that guarded the western lands of Hisperion, the mansion had lost all former glory, and now it was bustling like a market selling butchered meat.
Wealthy men and nobles from all over the continent, along with underworld movers and shakers, packed the auction house.
"Look, is that the famous Greysel black iron armor?"
"They say even the sword used by the first Greysel family head is up for sale."
"The land deeds and business rights are the real gems. It's a chance to buy up the juiciest parts of the west for cheap."
Hyenas.
To Lady Katrina's eyes, they looked like a pack of hyenas gathering to feast on the corpse that was Greysel.
'Repulsive creatures.'
A mesmerizing woman in a violet dress.
Katrina Bellator, family head of the Bellator family—one of Hisperion's seven vassals, and a pillar of the Seven Great Martial Families—busily fanned herself, unable to hide her displeasure.
'Hugo. Even dead, that man still splashes filth everywhere. Father and son—both hell-bent on destroying the family... Never in Hisperion's history have there been such disgraceful seeds.'
Normally, she would have kept her composure for the sake of appearances, but not this time.
Just being at this shameless auction held by such a wretch was an affront to her dignity.
"Tsk!"
And yet, she had come here for one reason only.
To prevent Greysel's land from falling into Imperial hands.
'If only our families weren't neighbors to Greysel... I'd never have to sit with such hyenas.'
If Greysel's lands passed into the hands of the Empire or some unknown force, Bellator's security would be at grave risk.
That was why Katrina entered this filthy auction house—to stop it.
'Of all people, that old man had to take an interest...'
Katrina's eyes moved to an old man sitting at the head of the auction.
Decked out in extravagant golden attire, every finger bedecked with gem rings—the Imperial Finance Minister and Archbishop of Pride, Count Goldman.
He leaned back in his chair with a haughty posture, looking down on those around him as if they were insects.
'If that man takes the Greysel domain, ours will surely be next. I must stop him here.'
Clenching her teeth silently, katrina waited as the bell signaled the start of the auction.
― Ding! Ding! Ding!
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting! The auction of the illustrious Greysel family's inheritance will begin now!"
Rufus Greysel himself stepped up to the podium, grinning greedily.
His eyes did not look at the crowd, only at the gold coins in their pockets.
The first items were the legendary swords used by his ancestors.
"The starting bid is 3,000 gold!"
"3,000 gold!"
"3,500!"
"6,000!"
Paddles shot up from everywhere.
But the moment Count Goldman flicked a finger, the contest was over.
"50,000 gold."
"...!"
An overwhelming bid right from the start.
The room fell as silent as if cold water had been poured over it.
"O-oh! Any more bids? Then, sold!"
An attendant delivered the sword to Goldman.
He accepted it with a derisive snort.
It went the same for all subsequent items—
The Greysel genealogy book, antiques, rare ores...
For every item, goldman named absurdly high prices, monopolizing the auction.
He was spending money as if it were nothing but scrap paper.
'Grrr... this mad old man...'
Katrina gripped her fan handle tightly, chewing her lip in frustration.
She might be the Bellator family head with considerable wealth, but she was nothing compared to the financial might of the Empire's finance minister.
'That's right... waste your funds on the trivial items, goldman. My only target is the deed.'
Katrina bit back her anxiety and waited for her chance.
And at last—
"Now, one of the highlights of this auction! The deed for the Greysel western plains, including mining rights!"
Rufus shook a bundle of aged parchment and the room's tension spiked.
Katrina's eyes gleamed.
That territory bordered directly on the Empire—a strategically vital location.
"The opening bid is 1 million gold!"
"2 million!"
Katrina instantly held up her paddle, aiming to seize the momentum.
But Goldman merely curled his lips in a mocking smile.
"5 million."
"... Ugh! 6 million!"
"10 million."
Without batting an eyelid, goldman doubled the bid.
A murmur spread through the crowd.
Ten million gold.
A sum enough to buy out a typical business conglomerate many times over.
Katrina's face turned pale.
Her limit for liquid funds was 8 million gold.
More than that would endanger her family's finances.
"T-ten million gold...! Any other bids?"
Even Rufus's voice trembled in awe.
Goldman, confident of victory, turned a smug gaze upon Katrina.
'Heh... this country bumpkin dares challenge me?'
'Kuugh...!'
In shame and frustration, katrina bit her lip.
If the land were passed to the Empire, the geopolitical and diplomatic risks to follow would be catastrophic.
But she simply didn't have more money.
"Ten million gold! Going once, going twice—"
Rufus raised his gavel.
Each rap of the gavel made Katrina grit her teeth harder.
Just as he was about to bring it down the third and final time, when everyone expected Goldman's win,
"Fifty million gold."
A quiet but piercing voice rang through the hall.
"...?!"
Rufus's gavel halted midair.
Goldman's smile froze.
Every gaze, katrina's included, snapped to the source of the voice.
There stood Ian Greysel.
Draped in a jet-black mourning suit.
"I-Ian...!?"
Rufus recoiled in shock, recognizing his brother.
"You—you, how did you get here...?!"
Ian did not bother to answer.
Katrina stared at him in a daze and then let out a sigh of absolute relief.
'Ah... Young Master Ian...! The last hope of Greysel, appointed by the Heavenly Sword Lord! You've come!'
The only true successor who could protect the family had returned.
But Goldman quickly regained his composure and showed a sinister smile.
'I see, Ian Greysel? I've heard the rumors. An unprecedented swordsmanship prodigy. But I heard he was banished. Claiming fifty million gold even though he has no backing? Must have borrowed the money from somewhere. Trying to challenge me with that? Even wild boasts have their limit.'
Goldman was certain that Ian had no money.
Without land as a base, what money could he possibly have?
"Sixty million."
Goldman waved an arm dismissively.
Ian was unfazed.
"One hundred million."
"... What?"
The hall was in an uproar.
One hundred million gold—
An astronomical figure, easily surpassing the annual defense budget of most medium-sized countries.
Goldman's face turned red.
This was no longer about money. It was about pride. It was about his identity as Pride—it was personal.
Could the Imperial Finance Minister, the man wearing a crown, be beaten financially by a banished brat?
Unthinkable.
"One hundred fifty million!!"
"Two hundred million."
Ian called out a new price before Goldman even finished.
"Huk...!"
The air was as if two hundred million gold was mere loose change to him.
And it was true.
With the Authority of Projection and the dimensional shop, Ian had limitless means of making money.
Not to mention, the proceeds from selling loot gained through repeated Demon Cult hunts had already reached Imperial budget levels.
"...."
Goldman fell silent.
Two hundred million.
That was over half the funds he had brought for this event.
If he pushed himself further, even he could not deal with the aftermath.
More than anything, those eyes—
Eyes that said he didn't even care about money—those eyes sapped Goldman's courage.
"... Fine. I'll concede..."
Goldman forced himself to sound cool as he backed down.
'A damp swamp anyway. What could he even accomplish wasting that much money? Fool...'
Yet his trembling fingertips betrayed his fury and humiliation.
He overheard the whispers around him.
"Haha, old man Goldman is beaten."
"He spent so much on the little things early on—ended up losing his real target for that nonsense."
"Haha. That's why auctions are all about strategy. He can throw money around but doesn't know how to use it."
The sneering words stung Goldman's ears.
His face contorted with shame.
'How dare you... How dare you humiliate me!'
Grinding his teeth, goldman shot Ian a hostile glare.
The heat of the auction was only growing higher.