Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage - Chapter 331

Chapter 331: The Grand Auction I
CH331 The Grand Auction I

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“Introducing the second item for today’s auction…”

The elven auctioneer gestured gracefully, and once more, a pedestal rose from the platform below.

The crowd looked one expectantly. The opening auction item had caused them to throw away their underestimation of today’s auction.

And the item did not disappoint.

Suspended within another glass display case, floated a metallic cube roughly the size of a football.

[A.N: Real football, not American rugby.]

“The portable Grand-Scale defensive Array Formation: Bulwark IX!” she declared with a flourish.

Murmurs rippled through the hall.

“Bulwark IX is a portable Grand Defensive Array capable of being moved and deployed at any location with an hour of preparation,” she continued. “Developed by Grandmaster Dareth Lonviel of the Aegis Bastion Company and his disciples, this formation represents the pinnacle of portable Grand Defence Arrays.

“It is designed to shield fortresses, academies, and even entire estates. This single portable array can endure sustained bombardment from Class 5 siege artefacts and high-tier mana weaponry.

“While not officially of Legendary grade, its resilience approaches that threshold—and I hardly need to explain how unprecedented that is for a portable formation core.

“This, honoured guests, is the finest creation of Grandmaster Dareth, the Barrier Master himself!”

The crowd stirred.

“We will begin the bidding at 500 HGs!”

Even by the standards of the powerful elites gathered here, 500 High-grade Mana Stones—around 250 million gold coins—for a sub-Legendary array formation was a staggering sum.

For a standard Tier IV Grand Array, that price would’ve been ludicrous.

But this… wasn’t a standard array.

Portable Formation Cores were the closely guarded domain of Tier IV Array Masters and above. The principle behind them was deceptively simple yet impossibly intricate—compressing a large-scale array into a small, portable core that could be redeployed anywhere.

Once inserted into its intended location, the array would unfurl, expanding into its full defensive formation. And with a single mental command, it could compress back into the core—ready to be transported again.

For organisations with multiple holdings, and little funding for defensive arrays, these portable formation cores were priceless. Instead of fortifying every site individually, a single Bulwark Core could be moved wherever it was needed most.

They were also invaluable in Interplanar Conquests, offering ready battlefield fortifications in hostile planes.

However, despite these overwhelming advantages, portable formations had their… drawbacks.

As should be expected, producing a portable formation core was exponentially more expensive than crafting a normal one. It devoured resources—rare materials, and even specialised components found only in certain planes.

Deploying and retracting such formations wasn’t instantaneous either. Depending on the quality and complexity of the array, it could take anywhere from an hour to a full week to complete a full deployment or packing cycle.

And like any sophisticated machine, every use wore down its core. Over time, the process slowed, the runic circuits would degrade, and eventually, the core would fail altogether.

Worse still, once a formation core began to deteriorate—or suffered any damage—it couldn’t be repaired. Its structure was simply too delicate and intricate.

Even so, its strategic value was undeniable.

Especially when crafted by one of the most respected defensive array specialists alive—Grandmaster Dareth Lonviel, the Barrier Master himself.

As proof of his mastery, Bulwark IX wasn’t just any portable array core. It was unbelievably a portable Grand Array Core—something few in history had ever achieved.

Portable Arrays were already infamous for their complexity and cost. But a Grand Array version? Only a Grandmaster of Dareth’s calibre—and obsession—would even dream of creating one.

In truth, 500 High-grade Mana Stones was a bargain.

And the audience knew it.

“500? I bid 750!” called a voice from the Merchant Union’s VIP box.

“750? You call that a bid? Let me play along. 850!” boomed another voice—from the Dwarven IronHammer Empire’s private box.

“You old goat! Since when were you authorised to represent your group? That bid doesn’t count!” the Merchant Union representative snapped, visibly irritated.

“Cough… Apologies, High Comptroller,” another voice replied smoothly from the IronHammer box. “The Smithmaster is merely excited to see his old friend’s craftsmanship. Please, allow this junior to confirm the bid on his behalf—850 HGs.”

The hall went silent.

A High Comptroller of the Arun Continent Merchant Union and a Smithmaster of the IronHammer Empire—both titans in their respective fields.

One controlled trade across an entire region of the continent.

The other oversaw the production of high-tier artefacts from one of the Empire’s royal forges.

Neither was someone the others wished to offend.

And so, the room collectively held its tongue.

“You old bastard, you don’t even need this! You could forge one yourself if you wanted. 870!” the High Comptroller snapped.

“Now, now, old goat. Don’t throw out your back trying to compete. We all know you’re too poor to bid properly. Let me show you how it’s done,” came the Smithmaster’s booming reply. “Let him have it.”

“…900,” the IronHammer representative said dryly.

“900? What nonsense! 929!” the Smithmaster barked again.

“Yes, yes, my mistake. 929,” the representative corrected quickly, sounding both weary and resigned.

The audience couldn’t help pitying the poor dwarf stuck answering to such a troublesome old man (dwarf).

“I’m poor? Me? Now you’ve done it, you wrinkled lump of iron! One thousand HGs!” the High Comptroller bellowed.

“Oh-ho! That’s more like it! Now you’re bidding like a real merchant!” The Smithmaster laughed heartily. “Since you’ve finally offered a proper price for a masterpiece like this, I’ll let you have it. Just make sure it’s used properly. If I find out you’re hanging it on your wall as decoration, expect a visit from my hammer.”

For a heartbeat, the Smithmaster’s Legendary Aura surged, pressing against everyone in the hall.

“Who are you threatening? Come along with your hammer!” The Comptroller snorted. “What better way to test a barrier’s strength than with a Smithmaster’s own hammer?”

Faces across the audience twitched.

One would think these two were mortal enemies, but in truth, they were known to be very close friends.

‘With a friend like that, who needs an enemy?’ Alex mused, a meme from his previous life flashing through his mind.

“I apologise for the disturbance,” the IronHammer representative said, opening the privacy tint to bow slightly from the VIP box.

No one was offended. Given their standing, even if those two elders started a striptease on stage, nobody would dare complain.

After all—power was might.

“Bulwark IX, sold for One thousand High-grade Mana Stones!” the auctioneer finally declared.

She didn’t even bother calling for more bids. She knew she wouldn’t get any.

Another sale, another massive profit.

Appraised at 750 HGs for a good auction price—the Merchant Union’s High Comptroller’s eye was as scarily sharp—the price had still soared past that mark, all thanks to the Smithmaster’s provocation.

A grin spread across Alex’s face.

The auction was only two items in… and already, the profits were flowing like tidal rainfall.

“The next item for auction is…” the auctioneer announced as the lights shifted once more.

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