Chapter 1140: Showdown (11)
The Human Auction House, located beneath the entertainment district of Torquepaz.
Customers, their faces obscured by masks and adhering to the dress code, bustled about.
They found their prepared seats or irritably picked up the drinks offered by the staff.
As the sharp, tense atmosphere slowly gave way to a growing clamor.
Flash!
The lights came on, and a solemn-faced elderly man in a suit walked onto the stage.
The old man, with a calm expression, looked around at the customers and slowly grasped the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting so long.”
The white-haired gentleman’s deep voice resonated as he slowly began.
“There was some confusion due to an unfortunate incident in Torquepaz recently, which led to a change in the list of registered items.”
“However, the catalog has finally been organized, and we can now begin the auction.”
“Once again, I apologize for the delay.”
As the elderly host calmly clarified the situation, the commotion subsided.
The auction house mentioned no compensation for the delay, but the guests seemed utterly unconcerned.
They merely busied themselves checking the numbered paddles distributed for confirming and bidding on the items to be presented in the upcoming auction.
The superhumans positioned around the auction hall watched these customers with silent gazes.
“Now, as you’ve waited, we will proceed with the auction immediately.”
As the host gestured, staff members, who had been waiting, pushed carts onto the stage. \A transparent light shimmered through the thick cloth covering, obscuring the contents.
“This item was not originally scheduled for today’s auction, but we felt it our duty to inform you first. I present to you…”
The old man said, his heavy voice shifting focus.
“The Forbidden Armament from the Guido Cult, crafted in the Pantheon: ‘Sorrow’.”
Whoosh!
As the cloth was pulled away, a pale gun barrel was revealed.
A unique shape, long and twisted like a distorted screw, spiraling upward.
A dazzling, pale white aura pulsed brilliantly over the smooth barrel.
The moment the strangely shaped barrel was revealed, exclamations of awe erupted throughout the auction hall.
“Beautiful…”
“Is that the weapon of depravity that forsakes humanity…!!”
“Then the incident at the stadium was indeed—”
People exchanged rapid glances, unable to hide their surprise at the Forbidden Armament’s appearance.
They too had heard rumors about the true nature of the terrorist attack at the stadium.
The host, perhaps anticipating such reactions, calmly continued.
“Judging by your reactions, I needn’t explain what this artifact uses as its ‘material.’”
“Fifteen laborers died during the excavation of this artifact, and four appraisers perished during its evaluation. All were either captivated or driven mad by this weapon.”
The host glanced at the pale barrel in the display case and moved on.
With just a slight tremor, the barrel’s light flickered, mesmerizing the onlookers.
“The appraisers concluded that this artifact activates by drawing power from the user’s ‘emotions.’”
“A Forbidden Armament crafted by the Cult. And a new artifact, one never observed on the Central Front.”
“This means there is a very high possibility that the 11th Priestess was involved in its creation.”
As the host’s words continued, the fervor in the auction hall grew steadily more intense.
Everyone knew about Forbidden Armaments, crafted from high-level superhumans and drawing power from their abilities.
They were items in high demand across the continent with no supply, making their price effectively limitless. It was only natural that those crafted by the Cult were considered the absolute finest.
Especially an artifact whose name and appearance were newly revealed—
“Let me state in advance: this auction house bears no responsibility for any incidents that occur after purchasing a Forbidden Armament from the Cult.”
The host nodded and stepped back.
“Then, let the bidding begin at 5 billion cells.”
Flash!
No sooner had he finished speaking than customers across the auction hall began raising their hands.
Customers, clutching their numbered paddles, quickly signaled their bids.
The old man calmly began to sort through the signals coming from all directions.
“No. 41. 5.5 billion.”
“No. 29. 8 billion.”
“No. 193. 9.5 billion.”
“No. 5. 12 billion.”
Less than a minute into the auction, the price had more than doubled.
Yet, the number of customers joining the competition continued to grow.
Amidst the repeated bids, the host simply focused on swiftly announcing the rising prices.
The customers’ eyes burned as they gazed at the brilliantly shining Forbidden Armament on the stage.
‘Given that a Cult Apostle appeared at the Torquepaz Stadium, the sudden appearance of this item at auction now…’
‘A top-tier artifact, potent enough for an Apostle to wield. I must obtain it here, no matter the cost.’
‘I have to bid, even if it means sacrificing all other items.’
The internal story of a clash between Pandemonium and a Cult Apostle at the Torquepaz Stadium had been leaked.
What did it mean for a Cult Forbidden Armament to suddenly appear at auction in this situation?
It was proof that the pale barrel now on display was an artifact directly used by a top-ranking Cult Apostle.
It was nothing less than a treasure, the absolute finest among Forbidden Armaments.
There was no room to worry about retaliation from the Cult or the scrutiny of other competitors that acquiring it might entail.
The thoughts of the customers in the auction hall converged, and the competition intensified.
With every relentless rise in price, the senses of the superhumans guarding the auction hall sharpened.
Piiing—!!!
Black mana threads, shot from the darkness, pierced their temples at incredible speed.
“…!!!”
There was no time to even register what had hit them and react.
Their minds instantly became tangled, consciousness inverted, and thoughts wildly surged.
“Gurgle…!!”
Guards everywhere collapsed in their seats, eyes rolled back, frothing at the mouth.
As the superhumans guarding the 5th-floor VIP section fell unconscious, Lennok emerged from the darkness.
Lennok, his Shadow Robe unfurled, flicked his hand, and the unconscious guards were dragged away.
“Well, this is quite the mess.”
The Clown, resting his chin on the VIP railing, looked down at the auction below and chuckled.
“They’re trying to divide the spoils we risked our lives for amongst themselves. Isn’t that utterly hilarious?”
“Not particularly humorous.”
Lennok, having used mana threads to clear obstacles, cast a chilling gaze.
“Just pathetic.”
“Oh, well, there’s no need to resent the auction house over something like this.”
The Clown said in a languid tone, waving his hand.
Smiling at the artifact emitting pale light, the Clown whispered.
“It was ours to take anyway, so we should actually thank them for keeping it safe all this time.”
“Aside from that, the spell’s activation is incredibly fast.”
The Conjunction Spell Master, leaning against the corridor, observed Lennok with folded arms.
“Is he achieving such speed while using mana threads as a medium? Even compressing the process to its extreme, it’s hard to realize theoretical efficiency in reality.”
“…”
“He might even surpass the Stop Spell Master in mana manipulation. Is that why my sensory abilities can’t grasp his form?”
Since following the Clown out of the infirmary, the Spell Master’s words and actions had been devoted to observing Lennok.
His nature, which dissected and appreciated others’ spellcraft and abilities as if performing an autopsy, seemed largely unchanged.
As Lennok ignored the Spell Master’s words, the Clown leaned back leisurely.
“Now, the problem is how to retrieve that item…”
The Clown stretched, then turned his gaze to Lennok and the Spell Master.
“Who will do it? Shall I?”
“I will.”
“I will.”
Lennok and the Spell Master replied almost simultaneously, their eyes meeting.
“…”
“I need more practical training to improve my spell performance.”
The Spell Master unfolded his arms and stepped forward, addressing the silent Lennok.
“It was difficult to find suitable bodies for practice, but this works out well.”
The Spell Master removed his gloves and extended his bare hands toward the auction hall with indifferent eyes.
“I’ll turn those chattering people down there into objects, just as they are.”
“Ohh, a Conjunction Spell Master’s object. That piques my interest somewhat.”
The Clown grinned, resting his chin on his hand.
“I’ve heard of people being taxidermied alive into artworks. May I observe your technique here?”
“It’s difficult without the chemicals and preservatives I usually use in this crude operating room.”
The Spell Master said dispassionately.
“I don’t even have any suitable bodies, so I have no desire to put effort into it. I’ll just toy with them enough to get a feel, then kill them.”
“Hmm, that’s not too bad either, but…”
“Are both of you incapable of thought, having just woken up?”
Both the Clown and the Spell Master were experts in toying with humans.
As twisted spellcasters, it was only natural that they’d be perfectly in sync in that regard.
However, massacring every human in the auction hall right now was another matter.
Lennok glared at the two irritably and spoke.
“It’s highly likely we’ll have to pass through Torquepaz again after the Royal Capital operation. Considering that, we shouldn’t cause too much damage, should we?”
“Huh, really? I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
The Clown tilted his head, and the Spell Master averted his gaze with an indifferent expression.
“What happens to the other members after the operation is over isn’t really our concern, is it?”
“Manipulation Spellcaster. For a Trait-type like you, you’re worrying needlessly.”
The Spell Master advised, as if finding him pathetic.
“If there’s something you need, you can ‘dissect’ and take it when the time comes. Don’t you know that?”
“…It was my mistake to discuss this seriously.”
Lennok turned away with a sneer and leaned back.
“I’ll handle it.”
Lennok, shrouded in a black robe, fell backward from the 5th-floor VIP section.
Simultaneously, all the lights in the auction hall ceiling went out, plunging everything into darkness.
Whoosh!!
“W-what is it!!”
“Turn the lights on quickly! What’s going on—”
“It was my turn to bid!!”
The panicked customers sprang to their feet everywhere, frantically pulling out their cell phones.
Security guards stationed throughout the auction hall channeled mana and drew their weapons.
“Contact the guys at the generator and power room!”
“No, it’s an intruder!!!”
“Everyone, prepare for battle. The auction hall is under attack!”
Even in the sudden blackout, the keen vision of superhumans precisely located the intruder.
A shadow moved through the confused customers in the darkness, approaching the stage.
Swish!
Security guards, drawing sharp swords, accelerated as if vanishing from their spots, approaching from both sides of Lennok and thrusting their blades at tremendous speed.
The two colliding blades sparked as they crossed through the shadows, piercing the robe.
But the blades did not penetrate the flesh that should have been inside the robe.
“It’s gone…!!”
“An illusion?!”
They had clearly thrust their swords, yet the hollow sensation was like cutting through empty air.
Even trying to pull out the cold weapons they held, they wouldn’t budge, as if submerged in a swamp.
As the bewildered guards twisted their bodies, attempting to retreat, eyes flashed within the flickering shadows.
“Move.”
Chwaaaak!!
Black mana threads rained down across the auction hall from the unseen darkness.
The moment the mana threads, extending from Lennok, pierced the ceiling, floor, walls, and pillars.
Dozens of superhumans moving everywhere tripped, became entangled by the mana threads, and crashed into each other.
Kwooong!!
“Ugh…!!”
“What, what the?! Mana threads?!!”
“Kyaaah!!”
The security guards collided and tangled in the darkness, bound by mana threads and tumbling across the floor.
The panicked customers rose from their seats and began scrambling over the display cases where items were exhibited.
“A-an attack!!”
“What is the Syndicate doing?! Suppress him quickly!!”
“Save me. I’ll just give up on today’s auction, please!!!”
Click!
From all directions, guns were aimed at Lennok, who stood alone amidst the fleeing crowd.
As snipers stationed throughout the stairwells aimed their scopes and pulled their triggers.
Lennok crossed his arms, extending mana threads to catch the bullets fired from all sides.
Piiiing…!!!
“Terrible aiming.”
He attached mana threads to dozens of bullets fired at supersonic speed and spun them.
Simultaneously, he pulled, changing the direction and trajectory of the force, and shot them back.
The bullets, narrowly missing Lennok, ricocheted and accelerated off walls and floors in all directions.
“I’ll return them to you.”
The bullets, returning to the snipers’ rifles, shattered and exploded their barrels.
Poo-poo-poooom!!!
“Aaahhh!!”
“I-insane…!!”
“It’s a monster!! A monster…!!”
Snipers, their rifles exploding, screamed in horror as they fell to the ground with burns on their faces and hands.
“Found you!”
Security guards, clutching cold weapons, quickly navigated the auction hall stairs and VIP section, closing in.
As a guard thrust a blade at the Clown, who was chuckling, leaning against the VIP section.
The guard’s face turned pale in shock as he saw the blade bend like taffy.
“H-how could the sword…!!”
Whoosh—!!
The floor stretched like rubber, dropping the guard five floors down.
“Uwaaaah!!!”
“Well, this is just a bit of mischief I can manage for now.”
The Clown grinned, looking back at the Spell Master.
“What about you?”
“Manipulation Spellcaster. You have a bizarre taste, befitting a Trait-type.”
The Spell Master tilted his head.
“Do you like to keep them alive and observe their reactions? I don’t quite understand, but if he wants to do it himself, I’ll yield this time.”
With an expressionless face, the Spell Master looked down at the auction hall and clasped his hands together.
“Spell output maximum. Subspace recognition. Imaginary Dimension conjunction.”
Wooooong—!!!
The Spell Master twisted his hands, aimed at the stage far below.
“Barrier Spellcraft disintegration.”
Paaaang!!!!
Dozens of spell formations engraved on the display case housing the Forbidden Armament glowed violently, then shattered.
The power was immense, shattering top-tier barrier formations designed to protect the auctioned item with a single gesture.
The shock unleashed a deafening brilliance in the midst of the darkened auction hall, violently shaking everything.
Koo-goo-goo-goo-goo!!!!
“Even at maximum output, is this all the power it has?”
But the Spell Master, despite having shattered the barrier formations with a single gesture, frowned with displeasure.
“Adjusting spell performance will take a long time. It will be quite a troublesome task.”
“Uwaaaah!!”
A black robe fluttered on the stage overlooking the chaotic auction hall.
Lennok, unimpeded, walked out and stopped before the pale gun barrel.
The auction hall had instantly turned into an inferno. Screams and tremors echoed from all sides.
The moment Lennok reached out his hand towards the Forbidden Armament, resting on the thoroughly shattered display case.
“…Wait.”
Lennok realized something was amiss and cast his gaze towards the stage below.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
The voices of the people, who had been in chaos just moments before, abruptly ceased.
Hundreds of people stood frozen, exactly as they were, as if time had stopped.
Even the host on stage, still holding the microphone, stood motionless.
In an instant, a suffocating silence descended upon the auction hall.
Suddenly, one of the customers spoke.
“Pandemonium. Bid: 1 cell.”
The elderly gentleman on stage stiffly turned his head.
The host, holding the microphone, spoke with vacant eyes.
“[1 cell. Bid accepted.]”
“Bid accepted.”
“Bid accepted.”
“Bid accepted.”
The staff, repeating in vacant voices, ascended the stage and began to package the Forbidden Armament’s container.
Below the uniformly moving staff, the auction’s customers all clapped in unison.
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
“Congratulations.”
Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap—
Hundreds of people, with grim faces and eerie smiles, clapped for their companions.
“Pfft. Hahahahaha!!!!”
The Clown, watching the scene, burst into maniacal laughter.
He casually dropped the guard he had been toying with moments ago and turned, roaring with laughter.
“Ah, I apologize. Was our chattering a bit too loud?”
He chuckled, tilting his head back, and wiped away tears from his eyes.
“It might have been somewhat unpleasant for a guest who arrived earlier to hear.”
“No, it’s fine.”
At that moment, the customer standing next to the Clown spoke naturally.
The customer, turning with vacant eyes, offered a hollow smile to the Clown.
“On the contrary, it was an interesting topic of conversation, one I wished to participate in. I’ve been quite fascinated by the mental aberrations of Trait-type spellcasters lately.”
“…”
Customers who had been trying to escape, the host holding the microphone on stage, and staff carrying drinks all chimed in.
A bizarre phenomenon, as if one person was speaking through multiple mouths.
Lennok immediately confirmed the identity of his opponent.
“…Mastermind.”
The Level 8 mental psychic Lennok had encountered in the auction house before.
Was it Aoshu Spero, the Mastermind, who had intervened mid-conversation?
“I’ll ‘organize’ the memories of the customers who participated in the auction. There will be no issues.”
The staff member sprawled at the Clown’s feet said in a vacant voice.
“However, there are other VIPs in this city besides me who would be displeased by your intervention.”
“…”
“It would be troublesome if this auction house were to collapse for a while. I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from causing too much commotion.”
A flat, empty tone, devoid of any emotion.
Yet, not only Lennok, but even the Clown and the Spell Master watched him with interest.
Manipulating hundreds of minds to act as trumpets, and then arbitrarily bidding in the auction to hand over the Forbidden Armament—a truly eccentric feat.
Was the reason for all this simply to prevent Pandemonium from destroying this auction house?
Compared to his methods, which were beyond aggressive and utterly heavy-handed, his objective seemed genuinely moderate.
“Aha, well, what can I say.”
The Clown, settling into a nearby empty seat, raised a glass and saluted the staff member.
“I’m in a mood to express gratitude just for not extracting our brains.”
“So you’re the mental psychic who adjusted my mind to settle into this body.”
The Conjunction Spell Master met Aoshu Spero’s gaze with an indifferent look.
“Thanks to you, I’m constantly experiencing my intelligence becoming as foolish as this body. Should I express my gratitude for that?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Spero replied calmly.
“If anything, I’m just repaying a debt to the Doctor.”
“…”
“I have a debt of gratitude to colleagues I worked with in the past…”
The guard, lying at Lennok’s feet, muttered with vacant eyes.
“Actually, I feel a little sorry for Artemeyer.”
“…”
Aoshu Spero was presumed to have been an Enforcer alongside Maiya Lonsdale in the past.
It was not unusual for him to know the Doctor, who had spearheaded the Ascension Gate project.
This meant that the Doctor was likely the one who planned the transplantation of the Conjunction Spell Master’s right brain.
“Although not strictly necessary, thank you for your help anyway.”
The Clown grinned, tilting his head.
“But if it was just about handing over the Forbidden Armament, your VIP wouldn’t have needed to intervene to this extent.”
“…”
“Do you perhaps have something you wish to say to us?”
Due to Aoshu Spero’s intervention, the Forbidden Armament had been retrieved without causing a riot in the auction hall.
However, if Spero had intended to intervene from the start, there would have been many easier ways than showcasing his abilities in such a manner.
The Clown pointed out this fact, subtly asking if Spero wanted something.
“I didn’t have anything to say, but now I do.”
Spero agreed.
“One of the VIPs found the body of the 8th Apostle, secretly stolen from the Cult.”
“…Excuse me?”
“It’s here, below.”
Spero ignored the change in the Clown’s expression and pointed downwards.
“The 8th Apostle’s Apostle Spellcraft. I think I can control it to some extent using my abilities.”
“…”
“If you could just help a little, I think we could find something out.”
Spero looked intently at Lennok and tilted his head.
“The Cult’s objective for this movement. Don’t you want to know?”