Going for the auction

The auction center loomed ahead, a monument to greed and power, its dark stone walls seeming to breathe in the ambient energy of Nyxoria's eternal gloom.

Pale light from the cloud-covered sky reflected off the jagged runes carved into the towering archway that marked the entrance.

The structure emanated an almost palpable malevolence, its aura a warning and an invitation all at once.

Two demon guards flanked the entrance, their crimson armor gleaming faintly under the dim light.

They stood rigid, their faces masks of impassivity, though their glowing eyes swept over the approaching crowd with cold precision.

Each demon that passed through was measured and weighed—not in words but in the silent judgment of their wealth, status, or power.

Those who failed the unspoken test were turned away without ceremony.

Jack, Gale, and the others hovered on the fringes of the crowd, their presence out of place amidst the opulent throng.