The Auction Begins

His thoughts had long since drifted to his teacher, as he anxiously awaited a response.

Seated on the sofa, he remained still, his expression unreadable.

His hands rested on his lap, his left hand slowly twisting the bracelet on his right wrist, turning it over and over again.

Darius glanced around the room.

The atmosphere in the private box was far too heavy, even making him uncomfortable.

He couldn't let things continue like this.

The tension needed to be eased—at least a little—so they wouldn't feel so stifled just sitting there.

After much deliberation, he decided to bring up a random topic.

"Hahaha, Illiya, what are you doing right now?" Darius asked, his voice unnaturally dry.

Illiya turned his head and stared at Darius intently, his golden eyes unblinking.

His gaze was unusually solemn—more serious than Darius had ever seen before.

Being stared at like that made a certain swordsman incredibly uncomfortable, as if he had been locked onto by some unknown beast.

That sharp, oppressive feeling on his back made it truly difficult to stay calm.

"Hahaha, did I say something wrong?"

The elf shook his head, and the pendant on his head swayed with the motion.

Paired with his stiff, serious expression, it gave off an oddly endearing vibe—like a child trying to imitate an adult's demeanor.

It was almost funny.

Illiya himself had no awareness of this. He simply and honestly answered Darius's question.

"Of course not."

After saying that, he paused, as if he had just thought of something.

His lips parted slightly, then closed again, pressing tightly together.

Seeing this, Darius couldn't help but press further, like a cat mesmerized by a dangling toy.

"Illiya, were you about to say something Come on, don't treat me like an outsider. Think about it—what are the odds of us running into each other in the forest? That's fate! So don't be like this. Just say what's on your mind. We're practically brothers!"

Illiya's lips curled up slightly—just a tiny fraction, so brief it was almost imperceptible.

"Since you put it that way, I'll be direct," he said.

Darius's eyes lit up with anticipation.

"Sometimes, when you can't think of a topic, it's perfectly fine to just stay quiet," Illiya advised sincerely.

Darius: "…"

You might as well have kept quiet yourself.

Despite feeling momentarily choked by Illiya's remark, he caught a glimpse of the young elf's face finally easing up.

What did a few teasing words matter?

As an adult, he ought to do what adults do—like making sure a younger one felt better.

The stagnant atmosphere in the private box began to shift.

The heavy, stifling feeling from before was finally dissipating.

Time passed as the two bantered back and forth.

Outside, the sky darkened.

The remnants of sunlight in the west gradually faded, and after basking under the sun for an entire day, the continent once again welcomed the night.

Yet, the changing world outside had no impact on the auction house.

Beyond their private box, the venue was filled with clinking glasses and false pleasantries.

Every guest wore a nauseatingly fake smile, and even complete strangers pretended to be old acquaintances, chatting enthusiastically as if they were lifelong friends.

The very air reeked of profit and personal gain.

Illiya, still rather pure-hearted, observed the scene downstairs through the one-way mirror of the private box.

His brows furrowed in discomfort.

Elves were a race naturally sensitive to the auras of others.

Downstairs, all those auras mingled together into a murky, polluted mess, making Illiya wish he could cast an air-purifying spell just to clear it all away.

Darius noticed this keenly and couldn't help but shake his head in amusement.

Yep, still just a young elf.

If Illiya were a fully grown adult elf, no matter how much he despised his surroundings, he would never have let his emotions show so clearly.

That's why he was still just a young elf.

"I can tell, Illiya, that you're planning to travel across the continent for quite some time. You'll come across many places like this, filled with profit-driven exchanges. It's best to get used to it early on."

Illiya had heard similar words of advice many times before, long before he even left the Elven Forest.

So, he didn't react much to Darius's words—he simply nodded to indicate that he understood.

Still, he couldn't help but sigh. "Humans really are as complicated as my teacher said."

Darius was intrigued. "What else did your teacher say?"

"My teacher also said that sometimes, humans are quite strange. Even though their lifespans are so short, instead of using their time to do something meaningful, they waste it on pointless things," Illiya answered. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "That was what another one of my teachers said."

Darius chuckled. "Humans and elves—long-lived races like yours—are fundamentally different. What seems pointless and meaningless to you might be something we're willing to risk our lives for."

"Like eating?" Illiya asked curiously. "That's something my teacher said too. He said, 'Food is the most important thing to human.' Eating is a very important matter."

Darius smiled in amusement.

He suddenly became curious about who Illiya's teacher was.

It seemed like they were quite an interesting elf.

"You're right. Eating is a very important matter," he agreed.

Before long, both the private boxes and the seats below filled up.

Everyone with an invitation had arrived.

As each person took their seat, the auction officially began.

The auctioneer was a man dressed in simple clothing.

Over his attire, he wore a black robe that completely enveloped his entire body.

Perhaps it was a tradition among auctioneers, but he also wore a mask, leaving only his eyes and a small opening around his nose for breathing.

His gray eyes swept across the audience.

For some reason, the once lively room—filled with conversation—fell into complete silence, as if everyone had suddenly been struck mute.

And yet, he hadn't spoken a single word.

After a moment, the auctioneer finally opened his mouth.

His voice was hoarse, carrying an odd, indescribable accent.

"The Haneulseong City Auction… begins now."