Chapter 92 : Chapter 92
Chapter 92: Auction (3)
“Are you going to do it?”
“Is there a choice?”
Homer answered, looking at the magician.
If they refused the Mana Vow here, they would have to leave the auction house.
“Ha. We should have just done it from the start.”
“At this point.”
Suddenly, voices could be heard from beyond the door.
It was the sound of bidders who felt uncomfortable with the Mana Vow walking down the corridor.
Although they were distinguished guests, there were clearly ranks among them, and those were probably of the lowest rank.
Followers who came to hear information under Bahab’s eye, wanting to display or boast about the hero’s memento somewhere.
“What if we do?”
I asked, looking at the masked figures walking through the crack in the door.
We had no intention of leaving either. But we could refuse.
“I won't.”
“Then match my lead. I’ll make it so.”
“The vow is your choice. I promise on behalf of Hella that there will be no disadvantages even if you refuse.”
I won’t.
The magician only heard what Homer said. He did not hear what I said.
“How did you do that?”
The answer was incongruous. Homer asked, looking at the magician who had opened the door wide as if to urge them out.
Logically, the magician should have been angry after hearing my words.
“Match my lead.”
“My apologies.”
Before he knew it, I was emitting mana.
A white phenomenal color. My illusion swallowed the magician.
“The vow. I'm doing it now?”
The magician reacted to my words.
He lifted the orb resting on his hand. He would check the reaction that occurs when one makes a Mana Vow.
‘Illusion.’
I recalled Jiaren’s explanation.
The stages of Phantasmal Ability. The levels seen in the process of mastering it.
The most basic was to embellish the implementer’s own features. Just as I had shown Barote red hair instead of black.
Next, was to cast it upon others. Just as I had disguised Deban at the Black Tower.
‘And the next step is to implant it in others.’
That was effective against a single opponent, not a group.
Like now. Like the magician before me.
The magician was looking at me, standing still. But his eyes were actually seeing me vowing to the mana, and his five senses felt the orb emitting light.
“Confirmed.”
The orb showed no reaction, but the magician nodded as if satisfied.
He, who was under the illusion, saw the orb react. He had directly seen me take the Mana Vow and was convinced he had inspected it.
“Phantasmal Ability, I see. How?”
Heh. Homer was impressed.
What I was showing now was not mere mana. It was the phenomenal color seen when manifesting an illusion.
“Don’t ask.”
“Of course. You managed to fool Sir Aran well.”
“I didn’t fool him. He tolerated it.”
“You must be special.”
Homer said, looking at the magician who mistakenly thought Kanan had also made the vow.
‘So this is why it was inevitable they’d think that way.’
White. The constantly shining phenomenal color.
From Kanan’s report, I understood why the East suspected a person named Simurtr to be Exa’s disciple, and why Aran called me Young Master.
Special. Just like the young Exa, who had no mana, was special in Mectera solely through his sword.
‘No, it’s more than that.’
I didn’t know his exact achievements.
But, it must be more than I thought. Homer couldn't guess my level. It was proof that the gap was not that great.
‘And he’s sixteen.’
Yet he was so close.
And that quality. Even though it was just a phenomenal color, the intensity was palpable.
Just as Kanan said, one couldn't help but be reminded of Exa. It held that kind of concentration.
‘And on top of that, a Phantasmal Ability.’
How on earth?
After this was over, Homer thought he would have to visit Degrate.
‘Lady Semenu would know.’
Their relationship was close enough to ask that much.
He didn't know if she would answer, but anyway.
Perhaps Semenu also had an interest in me. He was a child who reminded one of Exa just by looking at him.
“What about that young lady? Aren’t you going to help her?”
Suddenly, Homer looked at Haryun. An illusion. She too was submerged in an illusion.
It was different from Homer or Kanan. It was similar to the magician. Haryun couldn't hear the conversation between me and Homer.
“She’s a no-go. If I hide her too, we might come under suspicion later. Me, and you guys.”
“What?”
“She’s a Bahab. Haryun Bahab.”
“What?”
“You’re not going to kick her out, are you? If you do, I might get shocked and the illusion might break?”
That smile, too.
Resembled Exa.
“Do you happen to know Egna Harkinwagen?”
Homer asked without realizing it.
“I told you I don’t. Don’t ask her either. If you ask again, she’ll get suspicious.”
“Hmm.”
I’ll have to ask when Simurtr isn’t around.
Homer thought.
“Confirmed.”
With Haryun’s vow as the last, the magician left the room.
“It’s a strange feeling.”
“I know, right.”
I had no idea what it felt like to make a Mana Vow, but I answered anyway. Homer and Kanan also nodded.
‘There won’t be any danger anyway.’
I couldn’t deceive them about Haryun’s vow as well.
I had to think of the what-ifs. If things went wrong later, if it was divulged, Bahab would investigate Haryun first.
If they found out she had avoided the Mana Vow, they would wonder about the means.
‘Bahab must not find out.’
There was nothing to gain from Akarr knowing I possessed a Phantasmal Ability. I wanted to avoid such a situation as much as possible.
“The screen is off.”
“It’s a break. The auctioneer said so when you were making your vow.”
“There are break times in an auction?”
“So it seems.”
1 hour.
The screen turned on, and the auctioneer returned after about an hour had passed.
“Thank you for waiting.”
Though his expression couldn't be seen because of the mask, his body was tense. Tension.
A tension that couldn't be seen until just a moment ago had seized the auctioneer.
‘Why?’
The question arose, but I wasn't that curious. The important thing was the auction item. Not the auctioneer.
“This is the final item Hella has to present! To our remaining bidders, you must have been eagerly awaiting this moment. As such, I will not delay any longer.”
Furthermore, the auctioneer was excited.
It was something much grander than when he had introduced the Elf.
“You must have already received information, and you will not regret your Mana Vow. The hero, Exa Mectera! The beloved sword of the Sword Saint during the Doom War! The sword he left to his comrade, Bahab, as a memento! The legendary sword of the ages, Elder!”
“Lies.”
Haryun alone retorted against the auctioneer's fervor.
“That?”
The round pommel was thoroughly rusted. The handle, originally white, had turned a sickly yellow.
A scabbard? By Haryun’s standards, that couldn't be called one. It was trash.
“It may be hard to believe, but that is why it is authentic. The renowned blacksmiths invited by Bahab did not dare to touch this sword.”
Carefully.
Very carefully, the auctioneer drew the sword. Screech. The gruesome sound caused by the rust was clear.
Here and there, no, the blade was chipped all over. The parts that were somewhat intact were severely rusted. Could that even be used, no, could it even be repaired?
Haryun shook her head. If it were possible, it would no longer be the hero's sword. It would have to be called an entirely new sword.
‘That’s the hero’s memento?’
Once.
When the castle of Kerekeil was being converted into The Ember of the Swelling Flame.
Holding Jeremiah’s hand, Haryun had followed Akarr to see it.
New wine in new wineskins. Much of Kerekeil was discarded, and much of Bahab was brought in. The things from Kerekeil formed a small mountain.
It was a mountain of trash, and it was similar to the swords discarded there. In Haryun’s eyes, Elder was close to scrap.
“To be precise, the expression ‘could not be repaired’ is more accurate. They were all men who had made a name for themselves in their respective regions, but none could raise the temperature of this Elder. They failed to reattach the chipped parts.”
Did that make any sense?
Haryun let out a hollow laugh.
“It’s certain. It’s Elder.”
Hor.
The proxy for Koral who called himself Hor nodded. The man who identified himself as Kanan brightened at Hor's reaction.
‘Simurtr?’
Simurtr was.
He couldn't take his eyes off the screen. With his eyes wide open, he was staring intently at the auctioneer.
When the auctioneer carefully placed Elder down, his gaze moved. His lips twitched and then parted.
‘Why? Because he’s a hero of the family?’
Haryun couldn't understand that reaction.
He was such a sensitive man. If she made even the slightest movement next to him, that Simurtr would notice it immediately.
But now? He wouldn't know even if she waved her hand right in front of his cheek. The breeze from her hand must have reached him, but he didn't look to the side.
“Is that thing worth that much? It seems like it can’t be used anymore.”
Since he wouldn't look at her no matter what she did.
Haryun opened her mouth without realizing it.
“No. In the first place, is it really the hero Exa Mectera’s? That thing?”
“Why are you doubting it? This is Bahab.”
“That’s why I’m doubting it more.”
Putting a memento received from a comrade up for auction.
And to think that was the memento.
Haryun found it hard to believe. It didn't make sense. Her mother's behavior, and the state of that Elder, which was called the hero’s sword.
“It’s real.”
“Pardon?”
“I said it’s real, Elder.”
Haryun.
Knew that her mother went to see Exa’s memento every single day without fail, and that at some point, those visits had stopped, but.
“It’s real?”
She herself had never seen the memento.
That Elder, said to be a legendary sword.
Today was the first time she learned that it had become a worn-out piece of scrap.
“Yeah.”
My sword.
Conviction was laced in my voice.
It had been through countless blacksmiths.
I wholeheartedly believed the auctioneer’s words that no one could melt the blade.
They would not have dared to discover the true value of that sword. They would have questioned what materials it was made of, and why it wouldn't melt.
“Number 3, 2 million!”
Homer? He didn't know.
I had never explained or boasted about Elder to him. But there must be a conviction formed from having watched from the side.
“Number 8, 3 million! Ah, number 11 with 4 million! Back to number 3 with 6 million!”
The bidders had decreased, but we couldn't be complacent.
The chaff had been sifted, and only the real ones remained. Those who were serious about the auction item, Elder.
Numbers 8 and 11. The real ones who had taken the Mana Vow and had not given up even after seeing Elder’s worn-out state.
‘Number 11.’
The bidder who had won the Elf.
He must be quite a big shot. When the auction was over, I planned to ask the crows for the identity of number 11.
‘Number 8 must be Remeter.’
I didn't think they would have been scared off by the Mana Vow.
The Black Fox, Herein Remeter, and his guard, the Black Tiger. They had come to Hella aiming for Elder from the start and had participated in the auction.
‘Crazy bastards.’
I let out a hollow laugh.
The Black Land. Those crazy bastards claimed that Exa was Baperr, not Mectera.
The Empire presumed it was because they didn't want Exa, who had been declared a public enemy of the Black Land, to be backed by the authority of Mectera.
It was a matter of pride. To call him a Mectera would make it seem as if the Black Land had been defeated by a mere family, Mectera, not the Empire.
‘But wouldn't it be more shameful to remain a Baperr?’
By that logic, the Black Land was defeated by an individual, or a Baperr unit of just eight.
‘What are bastards like that going to do with a memento?’
I was curious about Remeter’s true intentions.
If the opportunity arose, it wouldn't be a bad idea to barge into room number 8 myself.
“10 million! 12 million! No, 15 million!”
The bidding price was being updated steadily.
Thump. Thump. Thick fingers were hitting the corner of the table every second. Homer was cursing at numbers 8 and 11 who were sticking to him tenaciously.
“Is it really worth that much?”
It had already surpassed the winning bid for the Elf.
That piece of scrap? Haryun couldn't understand the bidding price that had just surpassed 20 million.
“Well, that’s up to the buyer. I don’t know what Remeter or number 11 are thinking, but this guy is serious, isn’t he?”
I pointed at Homer, who was trying to break the table with his chin.
“What about you?”
“What?”
“How much would you be able to pay?”
“Me? Or Mectera?”
“Both.”
“I could give everything but my body.”
And Pagna and Pegna too.
“…What about Mectera?”
“Well. That’s difficult.”
In the old days, I could have said it with confidence.
Aran might, but Mectera would not have even participated in such an auction.
‘I miss Mectera.’
But Medeoban sincerely believed the fake last words that Exa had left before his death.
‘Why.’
What kind of emotion was it based on?
The denial of the man who was once his father? A greed for the fame of a Hero Family?
Or was it the pride of the sword family, Mectera, thinking that a swordsman would have no other choice?
‘The old man has gotten old, and he seems to have become more emotional. The idea of treating his grandson-like figure well to keep him around is something I couldn’t have imagined in the old days.’
Either way was a possibility.
Denial was also one. I could neither affirm nor deny it.
Medeoban, who was befitting of the Sword Master, was now clinging to his blood relative.
The Medeoban I experienced in my childhood still remained quite vividly in my memory.
‘Even if the bloodline was different, a father was a father.’
It had been like that for a time. I had no intention of denying that past.
I even thought that what he had shown back then was love. The form of love is different for each person, and Medeoban had done his best.
“50 million! 50 million! Number 3 with 50 million. I will call it three times!”
Finally, the competitor dropped out.
“Haha! Koral has a lot of money! Come at me if you dare!”
Homer was laughing like a madman.
“50 million, 50 million? 50 million! Sold. Congratulations!”
As soon as the auctioneer shouted.
The magic circle engraved on the table glowed with a bluish light. Elder. The sword the auctioneer had presented was transmitted.
“That’s two years’ worth of Bahab’s budget……”
Haryun looked at the madman with a weary expression.
No matter how large the Koral Merchant Guild was, it was an amount that was bound to have an impact. But he had done it without a moment's hesitation.
“Haha. Would you like to touch it too, my lady?”
“No… I’m fine.”
Homer seemed to have lost his mind somewhere.
Even though he knew Haryun was a Bahab, he wanted to show off Elder.
“What about you, Young Master?”
“It’s fine. Just take good care of it.”
“Why not you? You wanted it so much.”
Haryun looked at me as if she were surprised. Even now, I was blatantly conscious of Elder.
“Not now. Later.”
I can't touch it now.
I steeled myself internally.
“But where are you taking that now? Your home?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“…Hmm.”
“It’s okay. You can tell me.”
I waved my hand lightly.
I deceived Haryun’s ears with an illusion. I made it seem as if Homer’s mouth was closed.
“First, we have to go to the south gate. We left our horses near the south gate.”
‘Of course you did.’
Using the Magic Gate would leave Harkinwagen’s name on the register.
That wasn't what I was asking.
“The East. I’m thinking of taking it to the Sword Tower. That’s why I came with Kanan.”
So, why are you taking it?
“Why the Sword Tower? He’s Mectera’s hero. If you’re going anywhere, it should be Mectera.”
“Mectera doesn’t even know an auction like this was held. Sir Aran also agreed. We are the ones who paid the price.”
“It wasn’t us, it was Koral who paid. Didn’t you say you didn’t use your money?”
Befitting of a merchant guild that handled illegal activities.
The winning bid was entirely Koral’s.
Whether it was The Unsetting Sun or the Sword Tower. Homer had not taken out anyone's funds.
“Strictly speaking, it would be Degrate’s, who killed Koral.”
“Then I’ll tell Degrate myself.”
I was a benefactor to Degrate.
The money taken from Koral? Jiaren would willingly concede it.
“And. The reason Mectera doesn’t know is because Bahab only chose those who would be safe. If Mectera found out, they would want it too.”
“Haha. Mectera?”
Homer laughed openly.
Mectera’s hero was a fake. Exa was a Baperr.
At least the Baperr unit and Harkinwagen knew that fact.
He had heard of Gerehk’s atrocities from Aran and Semenu. Everyone had lamented the Sword Master’s soldiers.
“The owner of the memento wouldn't want it.”
“He’s Mectera’s hero. Mectera must be waiting for it too.”
“Well. Only Sir Aran would know.”
“Aran is a Mectera too, isn’t he?”
“Is he, really.”
If Exa returned, Aran would leave Mectera.
Homer had received such an assurance once. To Aran, Exa was more precious than Mectera.
“Besides. Aren’t we technically under a Mana Vow? We can't give it to Mectera even if we wanted to.”
“……”
That excuse.
It was also the reason why I had so blatantly wanted Elder.
Because there was no room for Mectera to interfere.
No, in the first place, they wouldn't even know that it was Exa's memento.
“Let’s go out and talk. It’s scary to stay here for long.”
Homer treated Elder very carefully.
It felt as if the scabbard would crack and the handle would crumble if he applied even the slightest pressure.
‘The craftsmen of the Sword Tower would have a way.’
He felt sorry for me who had helped, but it couldn't be helped.
He resembled Exa and was a person who reminded him of Exa, but that was all.
‘Elder belongs to Sir Exa, who will one day return.’
He had accepted the request from Aran and readily agreed to the request of the crow, James, but that favor ended here.
Everything the East and Harkinwagen did was for Exa. There was nothing he could do for the young master who merely resembled him.
Even if it had been Aran here instead of him, he would have surely acted the same way…….
“Hmm?”
Creak. Harkinwagen, who had opened the door, expressed his doubt.
The three who followed him out into the corridor were the same.
“What is it.”
The bidder’s room.
There was no special magical treatment.
It was soundproof at best, and I had already confirmed through my senses that there were guards in the corridor.
“Who?”
All those guards were down.
The group looked left and right alternately. At least ten. There was no sound from the fallen.
“They’re all alive. No external injuries either.”
There were no wounds.
The corridor was clean, without a single drop of blood.
Homer’s kick had considerable force, but they didn't wake up.
Magic? No. A method to knock someone out so quietly and cleanly.
“It can only be Degrate.”
“Hmm, I agree.”
Nothing else came to mind.
If it were magic, it was impossible that they wouldn't have felt the flow of mana.
Anywhere else might be different… but they should have noticed when the guard in front of room number 3 was taken down.
“Found you.”
The voice was close.
The next room. Creak- I had a premonition as I watched the opening door. The hoarse voice I heard was looking for us.
“Martial arts aren’t my specialty.”
Homer was the next to prepare to respond after me.
While preparing his Phantasmal Ability, Homer had enveloped his body in mana. Soon, it was consumed. The distinction between body and mana disappeared.
The body, which had turned blue like mana, shimmered like mana. That form. That appearance was quite familiar to me.
A technique I had often used in my past life, one I could not yet use in my current state of being starved for mana.
‘Isn’t that Open State Maintenance?’
Open State Maintenance.
A technique that followed Sword Net and Origin, one that the past Exa had personally devised.
To be able to react to everything caught in the Sword Net, at every moment.
A technique designed for the battlefield, designed to manifest mana in the desired form in an instant.
‘I didn’t teach him that.’
Homer was imitating it.
And with a rather excellent degree of completion.
“Baekhwa……”
Baekhwa (Whitening).
At Kanan's admiring whisper, I furrowed my brow.
“You know that?”
“Yes? Ah, yes. It is a secret technique permitted only to the core swordsmen of The Unsetting Sun or to recognized swordsmen.”
“A secret technique?”
“Yes. The Head of the Sword Tower said so.”
“Damn it.”
It was Lete Dujeu’s doing.
I clicked my tongue. She was always like that. She had a knack for meddling with things she shouldn't, and she would arbitrarily change the things I had created in my past life.
“No sword.”
As Homer checked the guards' bodies, Baekhwa reacted.
A projectile that passed through the open door of the next room in an arc was deflected by the blue mana.
‘He uses it well.’
Baekhwa.
It was a technique that enabled the fastest possible response to something the user perceived.
It was a state of being fully prepared. To be able to block an attack with mana at any time, and to be able to counter it.
However, it was more efficient than simply wrapping the body in mana by eliminating the boundary between the body and mana.
‘It’s half-assed without Sword Net.’
Only when a perfect understanding of a certain radius was achieved did Baekhwa show its maximum efficiency.
In the first place, it was a technique conceived with Sword Net in mind.
And at the same time, it was to compensate for the weakness of the Star-Breaking Style, which required time to revolve as one’s achievement increased.
“It’s the Black Tiger. Remeter’s subordinate.”
Homer recognized him at once.
A Black Tiger mask with three claw marks drawn on the forehead.
“Baekhwa. He appears to be a follower of Exa Baperr.”
Harkinwagen was one of the famous figures in the Black Land, but the Black Tiger did not recognize Homer.
Instead, he recognized Baekhwa. That phenomenon. One of the secret techniques Exa left for the Baperr unit.
“I have no intention of fighting.”
“I have confirmed Elder.”
He was speaking to someone.
It wasn't caught in the Sword Net. As Homer threw a punch, I scanned the surroundings.
The corridor. The numerous rooms lined up on the left and right. I couldn't find anyone. I would have to search the rooms, and to do that, I would have to get through the Black Tiger……
The moment my eyes turned to the Black Tiger.
“I will take Elder.”
The Black Tiger’s eyeballs lightly surpassed the size permitted to a human.
The two holes in the mask barely contained the pupils.
‘…An Evil Eye.’
Something that couldn't be seen in this era.
But on the battlefield, it was truly common, and incredibly troublesome.
One of the powers of the Doom Species.
“Close your eyes!”
It was too late to revolve the Star-Breaking Style.
Kanan and Haryun. I reflexively turned around. I tried to cover their eyes.
“Ah.”
…Seeing the two pairs of pupils, the distorting vision, I knew instinctively.
“Fuck.”
It was too late.