The Auction Ends

Kael settled in his chair with an ease that belies the gravity of the situation, surveys the two figures cloaked in mystery before him. His mind, a tumult of strategy and anticipation, circles around the final moves of his grand scheme. 'Now that everything is dealt with, I just need to talk to a couple of people before they leave,' he muses silently, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.

The VIP members of the enigmatic P.O.B. organization, shrouded in their cloaks, maintain a silence that's almost palpable. Kael's voice slices through the tension, sharp and assertive. "Now please hand over the payment." He extends his hand, a silent demand hanging in the air.

One of the cloaked figures complies, revealing ten pouches. As they exchange hands, the weight of the pouches feels like the culmination of a well-played game to Kael. But before he can revel in his victory, one of the agents speaks, their voice a blend of warning and respect. "Our organization has been keeping track, supporting, and maintaining balance for centuries now. The appearance of your group has caused a stir within a single day."

The other agent continues, their words measured and careful. "We would like to keep your group in close contact to prevent any unnecessary problematic events."

Kael's inner thoughts swirl with derision and amusement. 'Okay, seems like everything is here. There's no need to hear them out. The P.O.B. is corrupted as hell. No reason to keep them close when they'll just want to assassinate us.'

With a casual flourish, Kael stands, his movement as graceful as a cat's. He tips his top hat, his trademark gesture, and states with unwavering clarity, "It was a pleasure doing business with you." Stowing the pouches away securely, he addresses the P.O.B. members, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Our group has no intentions of forming an alliance with the P.O.B. I hope you enjoyed my auction and have a good night."

Turning to the attendant, who immediately sets to work on the portal array without a word, Kael strides toward the door with a confidence that borders on audacity. Pausing, he throws a final, chilling warning over his shoulder. "Ah, I should warn you," he says, his voice cold and calm. "Keep your noses out of our business, or your organization will fall."

As Kael exits, the room's atmosphere thickens with tension. The two agents, their tongues clicking in unison, glare at the retreating figure. One grasps the coveted Dragon's Eye sniper, a tangible reminder of the auction's high stakes. They step through the rift, their silhouettes swallowed by the swirling portal.

The moment the portal snaps shut, the agents find themselves in a vast hallway, the silence echoing their thoughts. "How arrogant," one mutters, the words laced with disdain. "They'll come to regret their decision. Let's talk to the team leader."

The other, holding the box containing the Dragon's Eye sniper, nods in agreement. "Regardless of their arrogance, this weapon is truly remarkable. I doubt I'd survive getting shot by this."

-

In the hushed solemnity of a dimly lit room, Kael sits opposite a different VIP, the silence between them thick with unspoken transactions and veiled intentions. Kael observes the man, his gaze piercing and calculating. 'This man...' he thinks, noting the composed demeanor as the man sets his cup of tea down with a measured grace.

"I need 150,000 of those B-rank weapons. I'll pay in advance, but I need them delivered without anyone finding out," the man states, his voice a blend of calm and command that demands attention without raising its tone.

Kael's fingers tap lightly against his mask, the sound barely a whisper in the quiet room. 'I was expecting around 100,000. To think he would ask for more. No reason to deny this request. We have about half of that in stock, and tonight, I plan to increase the production rate by over 500%,' he contemplates with a strategist's calm.

"That won't be an issue," Kael replies smoothly. "In a week, they'll be handed to your daughter by a normal student. For her safety, I advise you to instruct her to refrain from opening the package." With a snap of his fingers, the attendant springs into action, setting up the portal array with practiced efficiency.

Both men rise, and the man tosses a pouch onto the table with a gesture that speaks of trust in their unspoken agreement. Kael, with professionalism, smirks and bows deeply. "It's a pleasure doing business with you."

As soon as the man departs and the rift seals shut, Kael's composure cracks into laughter. "Hmhmhmhmhmhahahahaha," he chuckles, his hand over his mask, his mind abuzz with the exhilarating possibilities. 'This is going to be one hell of a year,' he muses as he strides out.

Kael then enters the next room, where the atmosphere shifts palpably. A figure sits shrouded in a cloak, her every muscle tensed, her hand unmistakably gripping a knife, ready to spring into action. Kael, unperturbed, settles across from her. "I'm glad you decided to wait," he remarks, breaking the silence.

The cloaked figure's gaze, sharp and probing, meets his. "Why? Why do you want to talk?" she inquires, her voice a blend of suspicion and curiosity.

With a knowing smirk, Kael reveals a sleek black double-barrel shotgun nestled within a box. The weapon's design speaks of power and precision, a tangible promise of destruction. Standing, he signals the attendant, who promptly begins the intricate process of setting up the portal array.

Kael makes his exit with a final, cryptic message, leaving the air charged with the weight of his words. "This is a gift. I'll visit you someday. Enjoy your gift; it packs quite a punch. Your order will be delivered within a week."

Kael exhales deeply, a sigh of relief and anticipation escaping his lips as he strides with purpose. 'Finally, it's over...'' he stretches out the remnants of tension in his muscles. 'I've dealt with the important people. The amount of money received is insane. Now, it's time to prepare for the future; the next arc of this story is about to begin,' his thoughts whirl as he enters a room.

The atmosphere inside is thick with tension. Lysandra, her eyes heavy with unspoken grievances, suddenly shatters the silence along with the coffee table. "Oi, old man! Why didn't my dad come to visit me!?" Her voice, a mix of irritation and longing, fills the room.

Darius, the epitome of unruffled composure, smirks in response. "How the hell am I supposed to know what that old lizard is up to?" His words, casual yet sharp, add fuel to the fire.

Kael, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to stave off the brewing headache, sits next to Lysandra, delivering a thump to her head. "Do you need to yell?" he asks, his voice a blend of annoyance.

Lysandra, her tongue clicking in a mix of frustration and resignation, stands up abruptly. "Let's get out of here, Kael. I want to eat something." Her demand hangs in the air, expectant and imperious.

Kael nods, his mind already racing with the tasks ahead. "I can't right now. I'm going to be busy all night, but I prepared food in advance. You can head back and eat with Des and Ash." His words, a mix of apology and instruction, seem to suffice as she storms out, the door slamming shut behind her.

Left alone with Darius, Kael presents the pouches, a symbol of a promise fulfilled. "You doubled, nearly tripled your investment. As promised, you keep 99% of the earnings from the Dragon's Eye sniper," he states, the satisfaction evident in his tone.

Darius, his smirk widening, inspects the bounty before tossing it aside with a carefree gesture. "Hahahahaha," he laughs, lighting a cigar in a display of relaxed contentment. "Well done, boy. I enjoyed the show."

Kael, slipping off his mask and shedding his suit, lays the artifacts on the table. "Thanks for lending me these. They were really useful," he admits, a rare note of gratitude in his voice.

Darius waves his hand dismissively. "Boy, about that little dragon," he starts, his tone turning serious as he stands and grabs a bottle of alcohol. "Her father said she's going through a breakthrough, so her senses are off the charts. She'll be easily irritated, frustrated, and she'll want to fight. Something like an instinctive reaction. Apparently, it happens to all young dragons around this time."

Kael nods, the pieces of Lysandra's behavior clicking into place in his mind. 'So that's why she's been acting strange,' he reflects silently.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Kael rises to his feet. "Thanks. Now that everything is settled, I have to go. There's something I need to do in this zombie-infested land." His words carry a weight of determination and resolve.

As he approaches the door, Kael pauses, throwing a final, cryptic remark over his shoulder. "Oh, and if you hear a loud explosion, don't worry about it."

-

Kael strides purposefully into the room, his demeanor betraying nothing of the perilous journey he's about to undertake. His gaze lands on Eira, who yawns languidly, a smirk playing on her lips as she makes to stand. Swiftly, Kael presses her back onto the couch with a firm hand. "You'll get your share tomorrow. For now, why not wait for me here? Once I'm back, I'm going to show you a surprise," he advises, his voice a blend of command and reassurance.

Eira, her resistance melting into a sigh, acquiesces with a dramatic groan, her feet waving back and forth in a childlike display of impatience. "Fine, fine, fine," she mutters, burying her face in a pillow. Her eyes, golden with a pinch of light brown, shimmer with unshed tears, the theatrics of her lamentation barely masking her genuine longing. "I want my money..." she exaggerates, her voice muffled.

Kael, undeterred by her antics, grasps her brown, straight hair, gently lifting her head. "Hey, you're already rich, so just wait a day. By the way, where's Zeke?" His inquiry, casual yet pointed, seeks to redirect her focus.

She groans in response, her annoyance palpable. "That crazy fucker went back to the capital to do something," she grumbles, her words trailing off into uncertainty.

With a nod, Kael exits the room, his mind already shifting to the task at hand. He encounters a group of mages, their presence a testament to the gravity of his request. "I need you guys to teleport me where Fulminheart died. Can you do that?" His inquiry, direct and unflinching, cuts through the air.

The mages exchange hesitant glances, the weight of his request settling upon them. "It's 1,000 miles away... We can do it since we have a range enhancer, but... will you be okay? That place is the most dangerous here, right?" Their concern, genuine and palpable, hangs in the air.

Kael's response is a nod of quiet confidence. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine," he assures them, his resolve unshakable.

With a collective nod, the six mages begin the intricate dance of casting the magic circle, their movements precise and synchronized. In a whirlwind of arcane energy, Kael is teleported, his world shifting in the blink of an eye.

Kael opens his eyes to a scene of desolation. Around him, the ruins of a once-great civilization stretch out, the stone structures nearly obliterated, now reclaimed by vines and moss. A menagerie of the undead—zombies, monsters, humans, elves, demons, dwarfs—roams the landscape, a grim reminder of the tragedy that befell this place.

Okay, good. I'm glad they haven't noticed me yet, Kael thinks, his senses on high alert. He reaches into his bag, straining to retrieve the purple glowing cube, its sheer size and the intricate talismans adorning it making the task challenging. These talismans, designed to sever its connection to mana, are a testament to the cube's power and the peril it represents.