The Titan Forge: Crushing Magic with Absolute Weight

Chapter 5: Flawless Purification

The Lower City of the Royal Capital was a maze of narrow, grimy streets that smelled of cheap ale and desperation. It was the absolute opposite of the pristine magic academies above.

It was also the perfect place to make untraceable money.

Kaelen walked through the shadows, wearing a heavy, dark grey cloak he had stripped from one of Thorne’s guards. The 800-pound Obsidian Slab was wrapped in thick, dirty canvas and strapped to his back. It looked like he was carrying a massive stone pillar, drawing terrified glances from the street thugs.

He stopped in front of a heavily guarded door marked with a rusty coin symbol.

The Rusty Coin. The biggest underground black market in the Capital.

Kaelen pushed the doors open, ignoring the two bouncers who instantly stepped back, intimidated by the sheer physical mass of the cloaked stranger.

Inside, the shop was filled with stolen artifacts, illegal potions, and shady mercenaries. Behind a thick crystal counter sat Silas, a greedy, one-eyed appraiser known for severely underpaying his clients.

Kaelen walked up to the counter. The stone floor cracked slightly under his heavy boots.

"We're closed for beggars," Silas sneered, not even looking up from his magnifying glass. "If you're here to sell rusted swords or goblin teeth, take it to the scrap yard."

Kaelen didn't speak. He simply reached into his silver spatial ring.

Earlier, he had found dozens of shattered, highly-volatile mana crystals in the dead noble's storage. To a normal mage, trying to extract mana from these unstable shards was suicide.

But Kaelen wasn't a mage.

System, Kaelen commanded mentally. Take twenty of those shattered low-grade crystals. Purify and compress them.

[Ding! Consuming 20x Shattered Volatile Mana Crystals.]

[Initiating 'Abyssal Forge' Protocol...]

[Impurities incinerated. Volatility neutralized.]

[Compression Complete. Acquired: 1x Perfect-Grade Mana Gem.]

Kaelen opened his hand and casually tossed a single, thumb-sized stone onto the crystal counter.

Clink.

The moment the gem hit the glass, the ambient mana in the entire room spiked violently. A blinding, pure blue light illuminated the dingy shop. The sheer density of the magical energy was so thick it felt like breathing underwater.

The noisy black market instantly went dead silent. Every mercenary and thief turned their heads, their eyes wide with absolute greed and shock.

Silas dropped his magnifying glass. It shattered on the floor, but he didn't care. His one good eye bulged as he stared at the glowing blue gem.

"By the Gods..." Silas whispered, his hands trembling as he hovered them over the stone, terrified to even touch it. "This... this is a Tier-3 Mana Gem. No, wait... the purity! There are zero impurities! This is a Perfect-Grade!"

In the Royal Capital, even the highest-ranking Grandmasters could only produce gems with 80% purity. A 100% Perfect-Grade gem was a myth. It was an artifact that could power a city's defensive shield or guarantee a successful breakthrough for a high-mage.

And this cloaked giant had just tossed it onto the counter like a cheap peanut.

Silas swallowed hard, his arrogant attitude completely vanishing, replaced by groveling terror. "S-Sir! Lord! Forgive my blindness! Are you... are you looking to sell this masterpiece?"

"I need entrance to the Grand Auction at the Royal Academy tonight," Kaelen said, his voice a low, commanding rumble from beneath his hood. "And I need liquid funds. Now."

Silas frantically nodded, sweating bullets. "Y-Yes! Of course! The Grand Auction only accepts Platinum-Tier VIPs, but I have a blank anonymous pass right here!"

He fumbled under the counter, pulling out an elegant, black-and-gold metallic card. He placed it next to a heavy spatial pouch.

"This VIP card grants you access to the highest private skybox, Sir! And inside this pouch is five million gold coins! It's all the liquid capital The Rusty Coin has right now. P-Please, is this enough for the gem?"

Five million gold. More wealth than Kaelen’s entire village would see in ten lifetimes. And it only cost him a handful of unstable garbage.

Kaelen took the VIP card and the spatial pouch.

"It will do," Kaelen said.

He turned around. The mercenaries in the room were staring at him with greedy, murderous intent. A man carrying five million gold was a walking treasury.

Three massive thugs blocked the exit, drawing poisoned daggers. "Hold on a minute, friend. Maybe you should share some of that—"

Kaelen didn't even slow his pace. He didn't draw his massive sword. He simply stepped forward and threw a casual, backhanded punch at the lead thug's chest.

BOOM!

The sheer blunt force trauma created a shockwave that shattered the windows of the shop. The thug's chest caved in instantly, and he was launched backward, crashing through the heavy oak doors and landing in the middle of the street, completely dead.

The other two thugs dropped their daggers, falling to their knees in sheer terror, pissing their pants.

Kaelen stepped over the broken doors, adjusting the heavy canvas strap on his shoulder.

"I have an auction to crash," he whispered to the night sky.

Thirty minutes later, Kaelen stood before the towering, gilded gates of the Royal Grand Auction House. Mages in silk robes and nobles in diamond-encrusted carriages were filing inside.

He handed his black-and-gold VIP card to the heavily armored Royal Guard at the entrance.

The guard scanned it, his eyes widening in shock. He instantly bowed a full ninety degrees.

"Welcome to the Grand Auction, Esteemed VIP. Your private skybox awaits."