Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage - Chapter 330
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Chapter 330: The Grand Auction Begins
CH330 The Grand Auction Begins
***
“Welcome, to the inaugural Gold Festival Grand Auction!” the elven auctioneer declared brightly.
Unfortunately, the crowd’s response was far less enthusiastic than her tone.
Being the company’s first ever auction, no one knew what to expect. The Golden Palace had become a household name for only about a year, but its fame rested almost entirely on a single product—the Rune Phones.
Although the company had recently begun expanding into other sectors, most of its dealings had been with domain lords rather than the general nobility or merchants.
As a result, many of those attending tonight’s event weren’t truly interested in the early items. They were simply here to go through the motions—waiting for the penultimate item, or more likely, the grand finale.
The auctioneer knew this all too well, so she didn’t appear the least bit bothered by the crowd’s subdued mood. Her smile remained perfectly professional as she continued.
“For this Grand Auction, we have carefully curated a list of ten items which we believe will be worth your time. As announced beforehand, all bids will be made in units of High-grade Mana Stones, with minimum increments of ten stones per raise.”
A faint murmur rippled through the audience.
Zora turned toward Alex, curiosity glinting in her eyes.
“The entire auction was organised and planned by him,” Alex said with a small shrug. “I didn’t have a hand in any of this.”
Zora nodded in understanding, though Eleanor’s brow furrowed in mild confusion, but she said nothing.
Alex noticed her expression but decided not to expatiate on the matter either –at least not here. His eyes drifted toward the VIP boxes before returning to the auctioneer below.
A single High-grade Mana Stone contained roughly the same energy as ten thousand Low-grade ones—but at a far higher purity. Considering that a Low-grade stone sold for about fifty gold coins, a single High-grade stone would, at the very least, be valued at five hundred thousand gold.
Of course, reality was rarely that simple. In practice, prices often climbed closer to seven-hundred-and-fifty thousand. High-grade stones weren’t just purer—they were scarce, difficult to extract, and even harder to acquire since those who possessed them almost never traded them away.
These combined factors—and countless others—drove their market value well beyond any theoretical conversion ratio.
Alex smiled faintly. He found Pinchcoin’s decision to restrict all bidding to High-grade Mana Stones downright ingenious.
Using gold—or even low-grade stones—in an event attended by people of such calibre would have only cheapened the experience in their eyes. After all, for most of them, gold was little more than glittering sand. Their net worths reached into the billions.
People tended to measure value by rarity. The harder something was to acquire, the more precious it became.
By enforcing High-grade Mana Stones as the only valid currency, the organisers had instantly added a layer of exclusivity and difficulty, even for these elites.
As wealthy and influential as they were, there existed only so many High-grade stones in circulation. Unlike gold, which could be minted or mined in abundance, each High-grade stone spent was one less in existence—and replacing it was never easy.
Even the wealthiest of factions watched their High-grade expenditures with care. Subconsciously, that caution now translated into how they perceived the auction’s worth.
‘Any item that demands payment in High-grade Mana stones (HGs) must be no ordinary item.’
It was a simple psychological trick—something even a child could recognise—yet still so effective that these titans of the continent couldn’t help but fall for it.
The shift in atmosphere didn’t escape the auctioneer’s notice. She sensed the subtle spark of curiosity in the air and decided to strike while the iron was hot.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, her voice ringing clearly through the hall, “our first auction item of the evening…”
She gestured gracefully behind her.
A gentle hum filled the stage as a pedestal rose from the floor, surrounded by shimmering light. Upon it sat a glass display case—within, a single old book.
At first glance, it seemed ordinary. Yet those attuned to mana—especially individuals like Alex with ocular abilities like Spirit Sights that allowed him to perceive the flow of energy—immediately recognised that this was no mundane tome.
The book practically pulsed with restrained power.
The auctioneer didn’t keep the audience waiting long.
“Bound in now-extinct White Wyrmskin, inscribed with runes and writings of old—recovered from an ancient ruin within an exposed Void Subspace, at the cost of the lifeblood of two Legends. Esteemed guests, I present to you—the Arcanum Codex of the Class 7, Epic-ranked Mage, Lyssara Merath… also known as—”
She paused with a knowing smile.
“…the Archmage of Grey Star!”
“What?!”
As expected, the hall erupted into chaos. Gasps, murmurs, and incredulous exclamations filled the air.
Never in their wildest dreams did they expect to witness a genuine, seemingly complete relic of a hegemon-level being. And not just any hegemon—this was the Archmage of Grey Star, one of humanity’s most renowned cultivation ancestors.
For a brief moment, doubt and scepticism flickered through the crowd.
‘Was this truly what it seemed?’
The auctioneer didn’t bother explaining with words. Instead, she chose to show them.
With deliberate calm, she opened the display case and gently tapped the book’s cover.
BOOM!!!
A wave of archaic power burst forth, shaking the hall to its core. The audience felt as though they had been thrust backward through time, witnessing an ancient era long since lost. They could almost feel the emotions of the one who had written within the tome.
But contrary to what one might expect from an Epic-ranked Archmage, the aura they felt was not one of pride or invincible will. It was bleak… hollow… filled with an unmistakable undercurrent of… fear.
Then—
Sigh…
The echo of a weary exhale drifted through the air, as if the long-dead Archmage had noticed their prying gazes across the river of time.
With a flick of unseen power from them, the scene shattered.
The audience snapped back to the present.
A luminous emblem formed above the book—a grey sun (yellow star).
The Archmage of Grey Star’s personal sigil.
Before anyone could examine it further, the symbol was drawn back into the tome. The elven auctioneer calmly closed the display case once more.
“After extensive verification,” she announced smoothly, “our appraisers have confirmed that this book is indeed the genuine work of the Archmage of Grey Star. However, be warned—it is written in a complex cipher that has yet to be deciphered.”
Her words were meant as courtesy.
Unfortunately, not everyone appreciated that.
“Why are you spouting so much nonsense? Start the auction already!” someone shouted impatiently.
Before she could respond, another voice rang out.
“Exactly! Enough with the chatter—just start the auction already!”
“Yes!”
“You know what? Take this—50 HGs!”
“What 50 HGs? Do you have no shame? 75 HGs!”
“Just 75? And you dare speak? I bid 125 HGs!”
Alex blinked, momentarily stunned as bids began flying across the hall like arrows. The auctioneer hadn’t even announced a starting price, yet the numbers were already spiralling upward in a rare display of the buyer trying to force the seller to take their money.
He knew that the offers had long surpassed the estimated value of the book—especially considering no one had yet deciphered its contents.
Forget the grandiose name given to the book, it might actually be a simple diary without any magical knowledge for all they knew.
And that’s if anyone is even able to decipher it.
“190 HGs.”
A calm, composed voice echoed from one of the VIP boxes.
“The Lichters have made their move,” Eleanor murmured.
“Yeah. I suspect the Mage Association will follow soon,” Zora responded.
“220 HGs.”
And right on cue, the representative of the Mage Association raised the stakes.
“230 HGs,” came another call, this time from the Elarion Empire’s VIP box.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? That Codex belongs to the human race!” the Lichter family’s representative barked.
“Save your speeches,” the Mage Association’s representative sneered. “If you want it, fight with your purse, not your mouth. 250!”
The Elarion representative—a wizen Elf of the Elder Council—didn’t even bother acknowledging the outburst from the human noble. To him, the man was little more than a noisy child.
The Lichter delegate opened his mouth to bid again, but the Machholt family’s representative leaned over and whispered something. The man froze… then grumbled and sat back down.
Finally, the auction hall fell silent as all eyes turned back to the stage.
“The current bid is 250 HGs. Any more bids?”
The elven auctioneer paused dramatically, her voice carrying through the expectant hall.
“Going once… going twice… Bang! Sold—to the gentleman in Box M5!”
Applause rippled through the crowd.
Alex couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head.
The appraisers had valued the Arcanum Codex at roughly 100 HGs—around 50,000,000 gold. But due to factional rivalry, the final price ballooned to 250 HGs—equivalent to >125,000,000 gold.
A staggering 150% increase over the appraisal value.
Alex’s grin widened.
The mercenary corps that had discovered the relic were in urgent need of money, so despite the appraiser’s warnings, they’d decided to take payment upfront, giving them only the appraised value of 100 HGs.
That meant every coin or rather High-grade Mana stone of the surplus was pure profit for the Auction House.
Seventy-five million gold gained from a single item.
And this was merely the lowest-valued one on tonight’s list.
The elven auctioneer smiled faintly and gestured for the next item to be displayed.
The night had only just begun.
***