Chapter 347
Chapter 347: Draw East, Strike West—Trap the Enemy in One Fell Swoop!
Viktor's words reached the ears of every noble lord present, landing with a jarring, grating edge.
Yet at this moment, all fell utterly silent.
Viktor's presence surged like a rising tide. The very air around him grew unbearably heavy, laced with cold and danger.
That peculiar atmosphere churned through the interior of the auction hall, sending the broad crimson drapes billowing upward—as if heralding the arrival of a storm.
A current of wind seemed to spiral through the hall, sweeping the wide crimson drapes up along with it.
The razor-edged aura of a blade hanging suspended above their heads bore down on every noble lord in attendance.
They swallowed mouthful after mouthful of anxious saliva, their hearts thump-thump-thudding as though they'd leapt straight into their throats.
The vast auction hall fell dead silent in an instant. The clamor and shouting from moments before had sunk into absolute stillness.
Cold sweat seeped across the nobles' foreheads as a chill spread through the air, and one by one, they sealed their mouths shut without a sound.
As if at any moment, the unseen blade hanging above their heads would slice their throats open without mercy.
Beneath this stifling atmosphere—one so oppressive it was nearly impossible to breathe—some lords involuntarily let their hands drift to the longswords hanging at their hips.
As if only this act could provide them with any sense of security, any trace of composure.
The atmosphere truly inspired fear.
Auréliane, seated behind Viktor, could even feel a powerful, nearly irresistible force of intimidation emanating from the front.
She looked up, and saw Viktor's black Coat whipping wildly in the air around him, the whole figure carried by the wind—a sight that sent dread crawling through her.
That icy presence made her spine run cold, a chill spreading from her chest all the way down her back.
What in the world is Teacher trying to do?
Auguste, seated not far away, likewise sensed the extraordinary shift in atmosphere.
He rose to his feet and, with a trace of tension and confusion, opened his mouth:
"Council Member Clavena, you……"
But before he could finish, Viktor had already stepped toward the floor of the hall.
And yet, miraculously, his foot did not fall through empty air.
On the contrary—Viktor seemed to be treading on a current of wind, his body lifted by the flowing air.
The wind still swept through the entire auction hall around him, and yet Viktor walked down as if descending an invisible spiral staircase of swirling air, unhurried step by step.
With each footfall resonating through the air, his Coat snapped and cracked in the rushing wind.
With every step, Viktor drew closer to the iron cages arranged behind the auctioneer.
Until at last, both feet settled onto the ground—landing on the gilded stage.
He turned to face the auctioneer before him, whose features were as striking as they were pale, and spoke in a flat, detached tone:
"It seems no one else has any objections."
"And what about you people?"
At that, the noble lords and wealthy guests in attendance finally snapped back to their senses.
Though it was true they feared Viktor—Viktor was being far, far too much!
Was this not a direct warning to everyone present?
This was insufferable!
This was the Kant Kingdom!
Most of those present burned with indignation, desperately wanting to get some satisfaction out of Viktor.
Some even looked toward Auguste.
But when they saw Auguste doing absolutely nothing, they felt their anger deflate somewhat.
Even so, there was 1 noble who stepped forward.
His manner brimming with displeasure, he glared down at Viktor from above and opened his mouth in furious protest:
"I never said I agre—"
Biu!
Almost in the very instant he opened his mouth, a streak of dark purple lightning descended from above, snaking like a serpent toward that noble.
In the fraction of a second before it reached him, the lightning bent its body and slammed into the floor some distance away.
Bang!
A massive crater was blown into the golden wall and floor. Dust erupted skyward as electric arcs flickered within the pit.
An enormous hollow appeared where the wall had been—shattered, pulverized—while dust and debris flew in all directions and arcs of electricity crackled ceaselessly within the wreckage.
It happened in the span of a blink, barely leaving anyone time to react.
All they felt was that in a single heartbeat, a thunderbolt of terrifying force had fallen from nowhere.
For a moment, everyone stared at the deep pit gouged by that purple lightning bolt, speechless.
Their eyes went wide. Their mouths fell open. Even their breathing halted involuntarily.
As for the noble who had spoken, he could still feel the scorching heat of the lightning as it had carved past him.
He glanced back, and saw the electric arcs still crackling along the path it had traced. A numbing, prickling sensation seemed to wash over him.
In the end, he wisely clamped his mouth shut.
Viktor didn't even turn around. His cold voice drifted slowly through the surrounding air:
"I didn't say you could speak."
A threat.
Clear and unyielding.
Countless noble lords involuntarily clenched their fists—but just as quickly, their fingers slackened with a faint sense of helplessness.
Who was it they were facing?
Viktor Clavena.
He was like a bomb suspended in midair—even the King had to treat him with the utmost deference.
And yet, that was precisely why, at this moment, an even greater number of nobles were seething with indignation.
All of it on account of Auguste—this young King, who had given Viktor far too much respect.
Several noble lords turned toward Auguste, a flash of deep resentment passing through their eyes.
If the old King were still alive, he never would have permitted someone from the Empire to act with such arrogance.
Auguste—still came up a little short.
At this point, the strikingly beautiful auctioneer from the Cassidra Commerce Guild scrambled backward and sat down heavily on the platform. She felt the full weight of Viktor's intimidating presence washing over her, and her body trembled involuntarily.
"I……I……Sir, I need to……I need to notify the Commerce Guild first."
"The price you've offered, the Guild may……may not be likely to agree……"
"Then make them agree."
The moment the words left his mouth, several streams of differently colored elemental Magic Power flashed into being behind Viktor. Tangible, manifested forms of each element took shape and began flowing along an invisible Formation.
Flame coiled around both of Viktor's arms. Water currents wound about his legs.
The Coat at his back swept wildly in the wind, and vivid green elemental leaves wreathed both of his shoulders.
Above his head, a halo of dark violet lightning floated in midair.
The surging power of elemental upheaval roared from the air toward the auctioneer, the tidal wave of oppressive force locking directly onto her.
In this moment, Viktor looked like nothing less than a living embodiment of the elements themselves.
Every person in the hall was struck speechless.
"Remember—I'm doing this for your own good."
"Otherwise, there's no reason for this auction of yours to go on."
"Eep—"
The auctioneer's mind went completely blank the instant she felt that terrifying Magic Power. All she could do was nod furiously:
"I……I'll notify the Guild right away."
She scrambled upright, pushed through the billowing crimson drapes, picked up a cool Communication Crystal, and began speaking rapidly to whoever was on the other end.
Viktor remained where he stood.
Countless nobles sat in their auction hall seats in silence, watching Viktor with icy, venomous eyes.
No one knew what Viktor's purpose was in doing any of this.
Even Auréliane was somewhat at a loss.
She knew that Teacher liked to make grand statements—but he always had reasons behind his actions.
Yet today's behavior: standing before the Kingdom's assembled nobles, looking as though he might blow the auction hall apart entirely.
Auréliane couldn't make sense of it.
Was it simply that he was standing up for those Demi-humans?
That didn't seem right……that didn't fit Teacher's style at all.
Then what was it actually for?
Then, she suddenly turned her head and let her gaze fall on Auguste.
This young King, at this moment, looked as though he'd completely lost the ability to handle anything.
He was clearly the monarch of the Kant Kingdom—and yet there he stood, more silent than anyone else in the room.
Not a trace of a king's bearing on display.
If you compared him with Imperial Father……well.
There was simply no comparison to be made.
If today's matter was truly allowed to end with Viktor walking out of this auction hall unchallenged—
Then this King of Kant would most likely become a laughingstock in the annals of his own Kingdom's history. The kind of story passed around and snickered at by nations far and wide.
Could that be Teacher Viktor's real purpose?
Was he trying to use this opportunity to deliberately provoke a war between the Empire and the Kingdom?
But just at that moment, the auctioneer returned to the hall.
The Cassidra Commerce Guild had given its answer.
The auctioneer returned to the floor, her voice trembling faintly, and addressed Viktor with careful delicacy:
"Viktor……Viktor, sir, the Guild says they accept your price."
"But on the condition that……the Guild would like to meet with you……"
Viktor slowly closed his eyes, as if sinking into deep contemplation:
"Is that so."
Everyone waited for Viktor's next words—yet even after a long silence, Viktor remained still.
Just as the noble lords were beginning to grow puzzled, wondering at the meaning of his silence, Viktor suddenly opened his eyes and said, lightly:
"Too late."
"?"
The entire assembly of noble lords was thoroughly at a loss.
At that very moment, a thunderous, earth-shaking roar erupted across the Royal City.
Like a violent tempest crashing in, it was deafening.
That dull, heavy cry came surging forward like ocean waves, as though capable of splitting the sky open, shattering everything fragile in its path.
Inside the gilded, candlelit hall, that rumbling howl was profoundly terrifying—something that gripped the bones.
Even the structural load-bearing walls seemed to feel the impact. Fine dust began to drift down from the vaulted ceiling, making the entire venue shudder as if on the verge of collapse.
Tiny motes of ash and dust floated down from the dome. The whole hall trembled faintly.
The assembly looked on like statues, panic blooming in their chests.
But the nobles did not resign themselves to sitting and waiting. They rose to their feet one after another, drawing the longswords at their hips and snapping to a state of alert.
"What is that sound? Beasts?"
"What's happening—is this a Magical Creature assault on the city?"
But that was something almost impossible to imagine.
After all, this was the Royal City of the Kant Kingdom.
The forests and wilderness surrounding the outer perimeter were swept clean on a regular basis by the Kingdom's guard patrols.
At the same time, Gwen placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and stood at Auréliane's side, equally alert.
Auréliane likewise felt the sudden tension seize the hall. She rose to her feet at the sound of the dull roars pouring into her ears, and began scanning for any possible source of danger.
At the same moment, one of Xiangyilan's eyes began to radiate a vivid emerald gleam.
In her vision, the once golden-lit hall gradually dissolved into darkness.
Beneath that pitch-black veil, faint threads of life-light took the shape of human figures.
They passed through the surrounding walls—through the ceiling—visible with perfect clarity to Xiangyilan's eyes.
They were countless life-forms: similar to humans, yet not human.
They converged outside the auction hall. And beyond them, countless winged bird-folk descended, landing on the domed roof of the venue above.
In that instant, Xiangyilan let out a sharp, involuntary cry.
"Demi……Demi-humans—they've surrounded us!?"
Auréliane spun around, staring at Xiangyilan in disbelief.
Then, a soldier—equipment shattered, body drenched in blood—came stumbling through, dragging his mangled leg, and crashed through the doors.
Bang—he collapsed face-first onto the red carpet.
His appearance drew every pair of eyes in the room.
"Your……Your Majesty! And all the lords present!"
The soldier wheezed, his voice barely above a whisper.
He seemed to be clinging to his last breath, his life hanging by a thread.
Even Auguste wrenched his gaze over to him.
"A massive swarm of Demi-humans has invaded the Royal City!"
"They've broken into the nobles' homes—and all the Demi-human slaves……"
"Have been freed. Every last one."