Chapter 229

Chapter 229 – The Great Sage Detached from Material Desires

Chapter 1 of the Black & White Grand Auction.

The concluding day of the bidding event, referred to among high-society circles as the “Relic Auction,” drew immense crowds that far surpassed the attendance of the prior three weeks.

This specific day was reserved for unveiling the true masterpieces, which explained why legendary figures who typically avoided public view had gathered here.

The list of attendees was truly magnificent.

Count Karutz and his spouse, both celebrated figures in elite social circles, were present.

A particular baron who steered a massive mercantile enterprise, a multi-millionaire renowned for hoarding ancient relics, and even a highly acclaimed medium drawn by the allure of “relics from the Grand Elemental Era” had all arrived.

The exclusive balconies were filled to capacity with notable personalities from government, commerce, and high culture—every single one of them consumed by an obsession with relics.

“Hmm, I harbored some reservations since this bidding takes place within the Black-White Slums, but the crowd is exceptionally impressive.”

“Quite so. Regardless of who orchestrated this, they possess remarkably refined taste.”

The dignitaries, concealing their faces behind disguises provided for absolute secrecy, appeared highly satisfied with their private chambers. They sipped premium vintage offered by their hosts while awaiting the commencement of the bidding.

While it might not completely replicate an authorized grand auction house, the hospitality provided was far from inadequate.

“This impeccable arrangement makes me eagerly anticipate the second Grand Auction. They have committed to financing superior accommodations next time.”

Several guests were already looking forward to the subsequent gathering, thoroughly charmed by the coordinators’ meticulous planning.

“I am quite eager to discover who mastermind this operation. They surely lacked unrestricted capital, yet they have delivered such an exceptional standard.”

Others expressed deep curiosity regarding the architects of the event.

Naturally, not every single person was content.

There were invariably individuals accustomed to extreme luxury who discovered flaws in every detail.

Even accounting for those critics, the general consensus among the aristocracy—indeed, every single attendee—was overwhelmingly favorable.

Save for one individual… actually, make that two.

“Right this way, if you please. May I procure anything further for you?”

“…Nothing. Leave us.”

“…As you wish.”

Basilin dismissed the Cartel operative who looked incredibly uncomfortable in his formal tuxedo, and plunged back into the cushions of the private sofa.

Through the specially engineered one-way glass, which ensured total concealment, he could observe the main floor bustling with final arrangements.

Stifling his mounting irritation, Basilin turned his attention toward his associate.

“Lady Saurika, do you detect anything unusual…?”

“Hmm.”

Saurika, commander of Azure Ice and widely celebrated as the Mage of Extreme Cold, curled his thin lips beneath his masquerade visor into a mocking smile.

“Void. Absolutely nothing of note.”

“…Understood.”

“Are you entirely certain these gutter rats are the ones responsible for eliminating the Azure Ice sorcerers?”

“That is… absolute reality.”

Saurika’s snakelike eyes darted toward Basilin with undeniable irritation, though he chose not to reprimand him directly.

The current circumstances infuriated him more than anything else.

‘…Hormei, was that the name?’

A full month had slipped by since Basilin reported that communication with the man had vanished.

The ultimate end of Black-White Slums garbage was of no consequence.

What truly mattered was the current location of the pair of Azure Ice operatives paired with him.

‘Newrus and Krolka. They are hardly amateurs.’

Admittedly, by the rigorous metrics of Azure Ice, they ranked slightly below the median, but they remained card-carrying members of Azure Ice.

So long as they claimed that title, they could hold their ground in any arena.

And yet.

‘Vanished inside this squalid Black-White Slums pit?’

Even the specialized position-tracking charms standard-issue for Azure Ice sorcerers yielded no location data.

He had verified the status of the Troubleshooters deployed as reinforcements—with identical outcomes.

The situation worsened from there.

Seeking answers, Saurika had dispatched a substantial contingent of Troubleshooters into the Second Black-White Zone.

The final tally?

‘Not a single survivor.’

Utterly baffling.

They comprised low-ranking and unnumbered assets—expendable tools—but this was a massive group, not a mere handful.

That reality alone had compelled Saurika to personally journey to this wretched district.

To unearth the reality with his own eyes.

“Tch.”

Immersed in those grim reflections, Saurika ignited a cigar.

[ Honored guests, we express our gratitude for your patience. ]

The announcer’s tone reverberated inside the private chamber courtesy of a sound-amplification artifact.

The bidding had officially commenced.

Crack, crack.

Saurika snapped his knuckles in vexation, his listless gaze scanning the auditorium.

‘Just… who on earth are they?’

In truth, their identities were irrelevant.

Only a single factor carried weight.

The casualties among the Troubleshooters were meaningless; what mattered was that these culprits had laid hands on Azure Ice.

Furthermore, a deeper slight was stoking the embers of Saurika’s fury.

‘They possessed the audacity to mock me?’

Basilin’s expression had turned subtly disrespectful since that fateful day.

He wasn’t even the mercantile patriarch of Goldrin, yet that idiot’s dubious looks made Saurika desire to rip his eyes out.

Therefore, their background was completely irrelevant.

Whether they were event coordinators or dominant forces within the Black-White Slums.

‘…They will learn by brutal experience the gravity of their mistake.’

While Saurika simmered in silent rage.

[Yes! …Gold! …Gold! If no higher offers emerge within the final three counts, it is settled!]

The auditorium grew fervent with competing greeds.

At long last, the final lot shattered all previous financial benchmarks for the premier Black & White Grand Auction and concluded its sale.

“…!”

Basilin vaulted to his feet, his eyelids twitching violently.

“L-Lady Saurika…”

“…?”

Saurika, attempting to cool his temper, scowled at Basilin’s frantic voice and shifted his gaze.

“What is it?”

“Direct… direct your eyes to the front.”

“…?”

Saurika raised a brow and focused on the main floor.

An inferno of wrath instantly ignited within his gaze.

“You… miserable degenerates…”

Upon the cleared platform after the presenter departed, a disguised individual clad in dark robes rolled out an enormous iron enclosure.

The audience members tilted their heads in confusion at the unlisted exhibition, but Saurika’s bloodshot eyes locked intensely onto the enclosure.

Behind the iron bars.

A single severely beaten individual.

Bound in magical shackles, chin resting against his chest. His partially revealed countenance beneath tangled locks was intimately familiar to Saurika.

“Krol…ka.”

One of the pair paired with Hormei.

The individual trapped inside that cage was a sorcerer of Azure Ice.

Pure malice rocketed from his stomach straight to his brain.

Crunch!

His tightened fingers shattered the wooden armrest of his seating.

Wooden shards pierced his palm, sending crimson trickling down, but Saurika’s blood-red focus completely disregarded the injury.

“These… bastards… are begging for death…”

“L-Lady Saurika! Maintain your composure! I beg of you…!”

Basilin desperately attempted to hold back the unhinged Saurika.

The commander appeared fully prepared to shatter the glass and leap onto the platform, but he wrenched his popping neck around to glare at Basilin.

“Maintain… my composure? You command me to stay calm while witnessing that? A sorcerer of Azure Ice reduced to an exhibit for a gawking mob… and you preach composure?”

Staggered by the suffocating aura of lethal intent, Basilin’s eyes quivered. Yet, through sheer psychological grit, he persisted.

“Y-Yes! That is precisely why you must remain controlled! Countless observers are present. If Lady Saurika takes action at this moment, the fallout will be entirely past saving.”

“Observers? I will simply slaughter every last one.”

“Absolutely not! You cannot! Even given your stature, massacring members of the nobility will not be overlooked by the crown. We can strike once we decipher their true aims.”

“You… worthless…”

Saurika trembled from head to toe with simmering malice.

He yearned to leap forward, tear the disguised announcer limb from limb, and butcher every soul in the venue.

However.

“For the moment… hah, for the moment…”

Basilin’s assessment held undeniable truth.

Saurika managed to barely rein in his wrath.

Yet the murderous aura radiating from his gaze did not diminish in the slightest.

In the meantime, having pacified Saurika to some degree, Basilin wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and focused on the center stage.

‘Hah…’

This turn of events was entirely outside his calculations.

Granted, he had arrived bracing for complications, but this transcended mere surprise—it was an overt declarations of war.

‘Parading a wizard of Decullan on a bidding platform?’

Surely they wouldn’t attempt to trade him as property.

Human trafficking was strictly forbidden across the Empire.

‘What… in the world are they attempting to achieve?’

If the objective was simple provocation, it had succeeded flawlessly.

He could maintain his composure, but Saurika was on the verge of a volcanic explosion.

Merely for that result? Risking this absolute chaos?

‘Are they oblivious to his connections to Decullan? Or… are they fully aware?’

Basilin could not comprehend the underlying strategy.

If they were oblivious… no, even then it was suicidal. If they were aware, it defied all sanity.

Snicker.

“…?”

Basilin grimaced, sensing the disguised figure’s eyes lock directly onto his position.

Though it lasted only a heartbeat.

The cloaked individual scanned the whispering audience with graceful yet absurdly dramatic showmanship, offering a profound bow.

He began to speak shortly thereafter.

[Respected dignitaries, I offer my profound apologies for this abrupt interlude causing any bewilderment.]

Utilizing a vocal tone that masked both gender and maturity, the individual offered a courteous apology, pausing until he held the absolute focus of the room before proceeding.

[I have stepped forward to showcase a highly unique presentation before we conclude our gathering. Ah! Avoid any misconceptions—this does not involve the trafficking of human beings. Our establishment is an exemplar of adherence to Imperial decrees.]

[Pfft.]

[What… haha.]

Amused chuckles broke out across the auditorium.

A tax-evading black market operation in the heart of the Black-White Slums asserting legal compliance? It was utterly farcical.

Even the grim-faced aristocrats couldn’t help but chuckle at the sheer irony.

Basilin stared blankly at the platform.

‘What… is the point of this?’

The disguised figure’s objective completely escaped him.

Basilin monitored Saurika with extreme caution while keeping his attention anchored to the center stage.

The realization did not take long to dawn on him.

[The individual standing before you is an elite combatant hailing from a lineage whose reputation requires no introduction.]

“…!”

[Fiercely devoted to his clan, yet as you can observe… indeed, we forged a harmonious understanding through dialogue. Regardless, that is trivial. The concluding event is straightforward.]

The cloaked figure smirked beneath his disguise.

[An inquiry session. A single question paired with a single reply. Do you not find yourselves curious? Which prominent lineage he serves. What pathetic excuse for a noble clan extends its criminal reach into the Black-White Slums. Operating like uneducated brigands coveting and plundering items entrusted by high-born clients. Or even if that is not the case… indeed, ancestral mysteries, forbidden magical arts, all manner of intrigue surrounding the great magical bloodlines.]

Upon hearing those words.

Basilin’s eyelids fluttered rapidly.

‘This… psychotic lunatic…’

Completely unhinged.

Recognizing that he served a prominent lineage meant they identified him as a piece of Decullan.

To carry out this stunt while knowing full well he belongs to Decullan?

The previously silent Saurika bolted from his cushions at that exact instant.

“I will not… endure another second.”

Lethal energy bleeding into the air, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. Even Basilin possessed no means to restrict him now.

The sharp ring of drawn steel resonated in the room.

Shing—

“Return to your seat, sorcerer of Decullan.”

“…!”

Saurika locked up in sheer bewilderment at the unexpected utterance.

‘…Precisely when did they enter?’

Zero detection, yet he had permitted an adversary to breach his blind spot. Furthermore, the situation was far direr.

The point of a blade pressed a fraction of an inch into his throat.

As Saurika swallowed heavily while cold dread washed over him, the voice originating from his rear murmured directly against his ear.

“This is a spectacle orchestrated specifically for your benefit. Observe until the final curtain. It constitutes basic courtesy for an invited guest, does it not?”

“…”

While Saurika dared not utter a syllable.

The sound-amplification artifact blared through the arena.

[1,000 gold pieces for every inquiry. Premium bids receive immediate preference—you are well acquainted with that protocol. Oh, and furthermore…]

Through the viewing partition, the masked performer’s eyes locked precisely onto the coordinates of Basilin and Saurika.

[We offer the option to suppress inquiries as well. Requiring ten times the original bid would be far too extortionate—out of sheer benevolence, we shall set it at a mere double.]

The disguised operative—Aster—perceived the fluctuating mana signatures beyond the specialized glass and smiled with mock innocence.

‘Ah, exact retribution, certainly, but ensure their pockets are thoroughly drained.’

This was the embodiment of a righteous Troubleshooter.

The impartial judge of corruption.

The great sage detached from material desires, delivering a harsh lesson to the decayed forces of Decullan and the avaricious scions of Goldrin.