"Money often costs too much."
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
We reached. The auction began.
I sat between Mira and Lucas, one on each side. Watching Lucas blush and peek at Mira was nauseating.
But today, Lucas and Mira were not my concern. Especially not the tragedy their love would bring.
Vampire blood.
A rare, banned substance used in witchcraft rituals. Almost unobtainable, and it could do wonders.
Vampires—a sub-class under Grave borns—rarer than elves, and even... dragons.
One would assume their population should be vast, considering men they bit became their kin.
That'd be the case, if their prey ever lived to see the day.
The population had dwindled gravely, millions to a couple thousand. Their inbreeding had ensured their downfall.
Obtaining their blood was difficult, not only because of their low numbers but because of the vampire biology.
A vampire's blood turned rock solid the moment it touched air. To collect it, you required magic spells to create a vacuum and store it in a special flask.
That was why I was here today.
The auctioneer announced item after item, many of which were grotesque—tools for restraint, sexual drugs, monster remains.
Mira sat unfazed, but Lucas looked identical to how I looked while traveling through carriages. Still, it was nothing compared to what was coming. I could wait.
The last item would be the rarest. Vampire blood. But not just any vampire's blood.
The blood of Astaroth.
An ancient vampire, said to have committed the ninth greatest sin according to the Sacrum Codex—Eloven's Bible. Consumption of his own kind.
Astaroth lusted over the blood of his own. Not long after it was said he consumed his own wife, kids, and the most gruesome of all—himself. Legs, hands, torso to neck till only his head remained.
The blood had been extracted from his last remaining organ, his brain.
As the myth went—the blood turned blacker after each sin, sin after sin till his soul manifested in his head—later captured by them. At last it ended up here.
I wanted it. No, I needed it.
The bidding stretched on for hours, the crowd growing more restless with each item. Finally, the auctioneer's voice rang out:
"Now, now, we present you the rarest find. The highlight of this festival. Not one drop, not two, but a whole flask full of Vampire blood."
The hall fell silent.
"The bid starts at—a whole ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND GOLD.
Faces turned towards each other, this wasn't the capital. A hundred thousand gold could buy you a mansion with money left to sustain it for ages to come.
Even an imperial prince would need an year to stack up this amount from his monthly allowance—simply put, it was massive.
There was no reason to hold back.
"150,000 Gold!" I called out.
Lucas turned to me, wide-eyed, shocked. I gripped his wrist hard enough to make him flinch.
I could feel the tension—A saint, bidding for something as dark as vampire blood.
"Y-Your holiness?!"
"Shut."
As expected, nobody called out against my bid—
"155,000," a bid raised. Interesting. "Who might that be?" I thought to myself. I wished to see, but every face here came masked.
"200,000." I went higher.
"WOAH, THAT'S THE HIGHEST BID MADE IN THIS AUCTION YET ACROSS ALL ITEMS!" the auctioneer hyped.
"201000." The same voice from the crowd, but nervous.
Now, it was growing on me.
"250,000," I raised it again, letting the numbers climb. I had enough gold, the temple exploited enough commoners to buy a couple hundred of these.
The nobles murmured around us. "250,000?" one said. "Only a vampire would spend that much on his own blood."
"That is enough to buy a title of a baron."
The auctioneer called out, "250,000 GOLD, ONCE! 250,000 GOLD, TWICE!"
Then came the unexpected.
"2-265,000!" She looked desperate. Holding jewelry in her hand, when had she taken it off? She perhaps planned to give her all.
I was bored. Yet… amused. To watch her trying so hard.
"500,000 GOLD. Let's stop pretending, and hand it over," I said, my patience running out. "And you, miss—keep your jewelry. It might improve your look."
Gasps filled the room. The crowd turned, before it stunned into silence. "Perhaps they're from capital."
I could hear everything.
The auctioneer announced the final countdown, and moments later, the flask was handed to me. Unusual for the item to be given right away.
But they couldn't help it since I requested.
"Let's go, get off your ass" I snapped, turning toward the exit.
Lucas, still processing. stammered, "Y-your Holiness!? A-ass?"
"Don't be surprised," Mira said. "That's just how he is."
The two scrambled to follow as I walked toward the exit.
But just as we were about to leave, the auctioneer called out again.
"NOW, OUR FINAL ITEM. THE ONE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR."
The final item, blood flask wasn't the last item? It surprised me at the very least. What could be rarer than a vampire's blood?
"I PRESENT YOU, A LIVING, BREATHING FIEND. FRESH, PURE. LOOKS TO BE ABOUT TWELVE YEARS OLD!"
What?
"MAKE HER YOURS, SAVOUR HER TO YOUR DESIRE. ITS A NEVER BEFORE SEEN DEMONESS!"
A cage was brought forward, covered in cloth.
No…
They pulled the cloth. Inside laid a young girl, covered with bruises, marked with a seal. Dark, shadowy aura surrounded her.
"THE BIDDING AMOUNT STARTS FROM OUR LAST HIGHEST BID, 500,000 GOLD!"
I felt the flask grow heavier in my hand.
I… never added demon species in my novel—that thing, was clearly… a shadowmancer like Nyx.
Shadowmancers—a manmade class. Often dark mages, blood mages, or even summoners summoned shadowy figures. Ones with no life—sole instinct.
However, after the passing of these mages, the summoned shadows lived. Eventually attaining consciousness.
Shadowmancers often lived in deep forests where no light reached, capable of sustaining dark energy—they made skilled assassins.
One major cause they were believed or mistaken to be demons—it was the only species that did not acknowledge Eloven's existence.
My questions were answered with one look at her face—it was her.