As the auction bid went on, Drake and the rest straightened their postures to the perfect sits, like soldiers ready for battle. "Please, senior, you can meet us at the end of the auction," Mark said respectfully, his voice steady but sharp enough to cut through the chatter.
His words were indeed directed at Drake, but they resounded loudly enough that Malachi could hear every syllable from the second floor.
"Yes, I will definitely make up for that," Malachi said with a much-relieved voice, as if a man who had been released from some sort of heavy burden. "You don't need to do that. Let this be how we eliminate evil and invite goodwill," Mark replied with the serenity of a man who walks the path of truth.
Drake's brows furrowed in surprise, his gaze flickering toward Mark as if attempting to decipher the riddle of his actions. Why would Mark willingly relinquish the Elixir when he clearly needed it?
"But Mark, I am curious why you are giving it up, especially as a fist combatant who relies on strengthening his body. The human body has a limit on how much strength it can develop," Drake said, his voice laced with genuine confusion and intrigue.
"That is, under normal conditions," Mark replied as his words held the weight of something beneath the surface. "But my family technique breaks beyond human limits. There's even a legend in my family that it can take our physique to a transcendent level," he said, with a knowing smile spread over his face like the first rays of dawn that pierce the dark.
"I see, so that's why you believed you could get stronger without the academy's support," Drake wrapped up, for the moment having his curiosity sated, a spark of understanding dancing in his eyes.
The transition from elixirs to weaponry was smooth, heralded by the melodious chime of Lily's bell, the sound rippling through the air as though the beginning of a new chapter in intrigue had begun. "That's all for the elixir category. Let's move on to the next category, the weaponry auctioning," Lily announced in a graceful flourish.
An auction staff member made his way to the podium, his movements crisp and measured, as if he carried the weight of history in the tray concealed beneath the blue cloth. With a practiced flourish, Lily revealed the first weapon: a set of star-shaped darts that shone wistfully under the light, like bits of heaven fallen to earth.
"The first weapon up for auction," Lily announced, holding one of the darts aloft, its edges catching the light. "Is the Ripple Star Dart." Her voice was ringing, her tone an authoritative and seductive mix. "This Ripple Star Dart is a middle-resonance-grade weapon and one of the tools left behind by a well-known figure from the prominent Leif assassin family, Greg Leif."
The infamous name spoken sent a ripple through the crowd, a collective gasp spreading like wildfire. Drake, now curious, hunched towards Mark. "Who is that famous assassin?" he asked in a low tone, though insistent as if a detective was after clues.
Mark cleared his throat, his voice taking on the cadence of a storyteller unraveling a myth. "To make it brief. Do you remember Hunter Leif from our class?" Drake nodded. "The one with an icy stare and white hair who rarely talked with anyone," he said; the description painted a vivid picture of their aloof classmate.
"Yes," Mark continued, his tone unchanging as he related the tale. "He and this famous assassin both come from the prominent Leif family; in other words, Greg Leif is actually Hunter's uncle. The Leif family is known for their assassination techniques.
Originally, they weren't a family but an organization that worked for money by eliminating people on behalf of their clients. But over time, they became a family thanks to their techniques and amassed wealth," Mark explained, his words casting shadows of intrigue over the Leif family's dark legacy.
"I see. No wonder Hunter has a cold gaze," Drake said to himself, his mind churning as he pieced the fragments together.
Meanwhile, the voice of Lily cut through the sea of people like a blade. "The bidding price starts at 10 gold coins." The words had just left her mouth when a flurry of bids erupted in the room, each voice rising above the other like oncoming waves crashing upon the shore.
The moment the Ripple Star Dart had a new owner, the next item was presented with a flourish by Lily. She pulled back the cloth to reveal a gleaming grey scabbard. The crowd simultaneously leaned forward in anticipation.
"This sword is called the 'Silver Moon Blade' because it glows white like a moon in the dark sky," Lily announced as she drew the sword out of its scabbard with a theatrically good flourish. The blade shimmered, its surface like liquid silver, mesmerizing the crowd.
The bidding began, and the room buzzed with excitement. Drake and Ronan, however, were locked in a silent battle of wills, their eyes meeting like clashing swords. Drake, ever the strategist, decided to forgo the sword to orchestrate a moment of humiliation for Ronan.
"500 gold coins," called out Ronan, instantly alleviating the tension in the room. Murmurs of disbelief were shared among the people in the room as all eyes turned to him, shocked by the audacity of his bid. Convinced that Drake would counter his bid, Ronan waited, but the response never came.
Lily's hammer fell. "Congratulations to room 10 on the third floor for successfully bidding the Silver Moon Blade," she said, her voice tinged with amusement.
Ronan's face turned beet red as he stuttered, "Wait, it was a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean to bid on it." The crowd burst out laughing, their laughter welling up like a cacophony of ridicule. Even Lily couldn't help but chuckle at that, her composure broken.
Seizing the moment, Drake's voice oozed with mockery: "What's all this? Aren't you ashamed? You brought your arrogant and immature behavior into the auction, filled with people from different places. If I were you, I wouldn't be able to hold my head high again." The words cut through the facade of Ronan like a cold blade through silk.
Until the argumentative show of steam began to subside, Victoria, of the silver floor, spoke up, offering to take the sword for 350 gold coins. After much deliberation, Ronan was forced to pay the difference, his humiliation now complete.
With the auction once again underway, Lily introduced the next item with a flair. "The next auction item is the Starmap Scepter," she said, her voice high and bright with promise, as if the room might prepare itself for the next installment in intrigue.