The hall had become a tempest of clamor and anticipation. This time, the bidding war eclipsed even the frenzied hustle for the Never Map. The stakes were infinitely higher now.
The item gleamed with an ethereal glow under the auctioneer's spotlight: three crystalline vials, each cradling an ocean of radiant, swirling energy. The Mana Dew Potions. The murmurs across the room were fevered, each voice echoing the same unspoken truth.
"An item that grants power akin to a god's—if only for a fleeting second…"
The allure of such an artifact was undeniable. Even in planes where godlike beings already walked among the masses, few could resist the temptation of holding that kind of strength in their grasp. And in a place as politically volatile as the demon planes, power was the ultimate currency.
