In the luxury suite, Wizard Darknight, Lady Phillie, and the rest did not speak. They held their breaths in rapt attention, and the mood was tense.
Merlin's eyes were shut lightly, but a chill still pervaded the room, causing them to tremble.
"Go and make a bid of seven million and twenty thousand!"
There was an icy edge in Merlin's voice. He was clearly meeting his opponent measure for measure, countering the Whirlwind Lord's bid. Merlin did not care whether his opponent would fly into a rage because the Whirlwind Lord was already a dead man in his eyes.
"Seven million and twenty thousand. The distinguished guest in number twenty-eight has bid seven million and twenty thousand. Is there a higher bid?"
