Varen Auction House stood in the heart of Velmont’s cultural district, a three-story building with a white limestone façade that had occupied the same location for more than seventy years. It was not the grandest establishment in the city, but that was precisely what set it apart. Luxury here was not about scale, but about age and a reputation that could not simply be bought.At the main entrance, two marble pillars framed a dark wooden door nearly three meters tall. Inside, the main auction hall was illuminated by crystal chandeliers whose warm, focused light struck the perfect balance—not too bright, not too dim—allowing every displayed item to be seen clearly without losing its aura of mystery.The seating was arranged in three curved sections facing a mahogany-covered auction podium, with a large screen behind it displaying the details of each lot. In the corners of the room, staff dressed in dark attire stood with clipboards and earpieces, moving with an efficiency that never bec

The bidding for the first lot moved quickly.From two million, the number climbed within minutes as several hands raised their lot paddles from the seats on the lower floor. Four million dollars finally ended the competition when a representative of a wealthy family from the southern district lifted his hand one last time.Callum Vare struck the gavel.“Four million. Sold.”A brief round of applause followed.The second lot, a pair of short weapons with yellowed ivory handles discovered in the ruins of a palace beneath Old Calvorn City, sold for six million after a slightly longer bidding war.The third lot, a fragment of an ancient map made from the hide of an unidentified animal and inscribed with writing that three different linguistic institutions had failed to identify, closed at seven and a half million.Throughout those first three lots, the second floor remained silent.The representatives of Velmont’s ten great families sat with composed posture, their eyes evaluating each it

Silence.Four seconds. Five seconds.No hands were raised.The object remained exactly what it appeared to be—oval, heavy, indestructible, and unknown. At least with the ceramic fragments earlier, there had been something hidden inside that could be revealed if they were broken apart.But this was different. There was no way to know what lay within it, or whether there was anything inside at all.For one million dollars, it was a gamble no one was willing to take.Then—“One and a half million.”Caelan’s voice rang out.One and a half million was not a significant number in a room like this. But who had spoken it turned it into something entirely different.Heads turned. Not toward the screen, not toward the podium, but toward the second-floor balcony where Doctor Voss sat with the same posture he had maintained since the beginning. Calm, unhurried, like someone waiting for his turn at a café rather than someone who had just bid on an object whose purpose was completely unknown.The r

The black cloth was pulled away.And the entire Varen Auction House stopped breathing for several seconds.Inside the glass case, embedded vertically within a metal stand that supported it upright, was a sword.Its blade was black—not dull black, not the black of oxidation or ordinary forging, but a deep, absolute black, like darkness given weight.And running along the blade from base to tip were flowing golden patterns. Not engravings. Not paint. Not a coating. The patterns seemed to be part of the blade’s material itself, like veins growing from within, following asymmetrical curves that somehow looked perfect—like rivers seen from above, like cracks spreading through ice that accidentally formed something beautiful.The hilt was simple. No excessive ornamentation. Only the same material as the blade itself: black with thinner strands of gold winding around it in patterns that felt deliberate, yet impossible to prove.No stains.No rust.No scratches.As though the sword had been f

Caelan did not answer immediately. His eyes swept briefly across the floor below—the tables already set in place, the adjusted lighting, the staff moving with routines they clearly knew by heart.“I’ve never played in person before,” he said at last. “Only on my phone. A few times on a computer.”Elara nodded once.“Then this is the perfect time to try the real thing.”She paused for a moment before continuing in a slightly different tone—more serious, more weighted.“But before you sit down, there’s one thing you need to decide first.”“What is it?”“Your number.” Elara spoke in a way that was neither patronizing nor easy to dismiss. “Not the amount you want to win. The amount you’re willing to lose completely—without regret, without the urge to chase it back. Decide that before the first card is dealt, not after you’ve already sat down and started playing.”Her eyes drifted toward the tables below before returning to Caelan.“A gambling table never forces anyone to lose more than th