The Ultimate Forger

5

The Golden Lotus Auction House stood like a monument of greed in the center of the Upper District. 

Its pillars were plated in real gold, and the air inside was thick with the scent of expensive incense and the silent arrogance of the elite.

 Lucian felt the stares the moment he stepped through the heavy oak doors. He was still wearing his scavenger’s tunic, though he had scrubbed the soot from his face. 

In a room full of silk and velvet, his tattered clothes were like a stain on a white rug.

He didn't care. His heart was focused on one thing: the Phoenix-Heart Root. It was a grade-four medicinal herb, the only thing powerful enough to permanently seal the Cinder-Lung eating away at his mother’s life force.

As he walked toward the back of the hall, a familiar, sharp laugh cut through the low murmur of the crowd.

"Am I hallucinating, or did the trash heap sprout legs and walk into the Golden Lotus?"

Lucian stopped. 

Sitting in the front row, draped in luxurious furs, were Caspian and Liora. Caspian looked at Lucian with a mixture of disbelief and pure, unadulterated disgust. Liora simply turned her head away, her lip curling as if she had just smelled something rotting.

"Lucian," Caspian sneered, standing up and dusting off his sleeves.

 "I thought my guards made it clear that you weren't welcome in civilization. How did you even get past the gate? Did you crawl through the sewers?"

"I walked through the front door, Caspian," Lucian said, his voice calm but hard. "The same way any other customer does."

"Customer?" Liora finally spoke, her voice dripping with mockery. 

"Lucian, look at yourself. You’re a pariah. You’re holding a seat that costs more than your life is worth. This isn't the Bone-Yard. You can't bid with rusted bolts and scrap metal."

"I have what I need to bid," Lucian replied. He felt the Heaven-Forging Flame humming in his chest, a quiet reminder of the power he now carried. "Just worry about your own pockets, Liora. They seem a bit shallow lately."

Their armory company was depleting lately. That was why they were here to get a few needed materials for new productions.

Caspian’s face flushed red. "You arrogant little cockroach. You think because you survived a morning in the dirt, you're suddenly back in our world? Guards!"

A burly man in gold-trimmed armor stepped forward. "Yes, Young Master?"

"Keep an eye on this one," Caspian pointed at Lucian. "The moment he opens his mouth to speak a number he can't pay, throw him out and break his legs. I won't have a beggar making a mockery of this auction."

Lucian ignored them and took a seat in the very last row. He could feel the eyes of the wealthy merchants and noble kids on him, whispering and snickering. He was a joke to them—a ghost of a fallen smithing clan trying to play with the big boys.

The auctioneer, a thin man with a monocle, tapped his gavel. "Welcome, lords and ladies. We shall begin. Item seventy-four: The Phoenix-Heart Root. Starting bid: five hundred Aether-stones."

The room went quiet for a second. Five hundred stones was a fortune.

"Six hundred," a merchant called out.

"Seven hundred," another added.

"One thousand," Caspian shouted, leaning back and casting a smug look over his shoulder at Lucian. He didn't even need the root; he just wanted to show everyone that he owned the room.

Lucian raised his hand. "One thousand, one hundred."

The hall erupted in hushed gasps. Caspian’s eyes widened, then narrowed into slits. Liora looked at Lucian as if he had grown a second head.

"One thousand, five hundred!" Caspian barked. "Are you really going to keep this up, Lucian? You don't have fifteen hundred stones. You don't even have fifteen hundred copper coins."

"Two thousand," Lucian said, his voice steady.

Caspian slammed his fist onto the arm of his chair. "Two thousand five hundred! You’re price-fixing! You’re driving up the bid with money you don't have just to spite me!"

"Three thousand," Lucian countered.

Liora stood up, her face twisted in a mask of fury. "Auctioneer! This is a joke! Look at him! He’s a beggar! He’s wearing rags! How can you allow this? He’s clearly trying to sabotage the Iron-Fang Clan out of bitterness because I broke our engagement!"

The auctioneer looked at Lucian, then at the furious Liora. "Young man, the Golden Lotus has strict rules. If you bid and cannot produce the funds, the penalty is severe. Are you sure you wish to proceed?"

"I am," Lucian said. "Why? Is the Iron-Fang Clan too poor to keep up with a 'beggar'?"

Caspian let out a roar of laughter, but his eyes were full of murder. "Too poor? My family owns the mines that produce the stones you’re pretending to have! Fine. Four thousand stones! Let’s see you top that, you piece of filth."

"Five thousand," Lucian said immediately.

The crowd was buzzing now. Five thousand Aether-stones for a single root was unheard of. It was madness.

Caspian turned to the head guard. "This is enough. Auctioneer, I demand a fund verification right now! This rat is making a fool of your establishment. He’s price-fixing. He has no intention of buying that root because he ‘can't’ buy it. Guard, throw him out and let’s end this circus!"

The guard started toward Lucian, his hand on his sword hilt. "Move it, kid. You’ve had your fun."

Lucian didn't move. He looked at Caspian, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "You're so sure I’m broke, Caspian? You’re so sure that just because I live in the Bone-Yard, I haven't found things worth more than your entire estate?"

"Like what?" Liora sneered. "A shiny piece of tin? A rusted gear? You’re a failure, Lucian. You’re a core-less nobody. Just leave before you get hurt."

Lucian reached into the small leather pouch at his waist. He pulled out a small, unassuming crystal. It didn't look like much until he tapped it with a spark of the Heaven-Forging Flame. 

Suddenly, the room was flooded with a blinding, pure light. The scent of ozone filled the air, and the Aetheric pressure in the room tripled.

It was a refined Aether-Core, a grade-six treasure that Lucian had forged from the "trash" in the Bone-Yard using his new system.

The auctioneer’s monocle nearly fell out of his eye. "Is that... a Perfected Essence Core?"

"I believe this is worth at least ten thousand stones," Lucian said, tossing the crystal into the air and catching it casually. "Do you still want to talk about 'junkyard coins,' Caspian? Or should I keep bidding until you have to sell your furs just to stay in the room?"

Caspian’s mouth hung open. He looked at the core, then at Lucian, then at Liora. The humiliation was absolute. He had just spent ten minutes calling a man a beggar who was holding a fortune in his hand.

"That... that has to be stolen!" Liora shrieked, her voice high and desperate. "He’s a thief! He stole that from the Iron-Fang vaults!"

"Stole it?" Lucian laughed, and the sound was like a hammer on an anvil. "Liora, your family doesn't even have the skill to look at a core like this, let alone own one. I made this. With the hands you said were only good for digging through trash."

Caspian stepped forward, his face turning a dark, bruised purple. "I don't care what you have! Guard, I told you to throw him out! He’s a pariah! He’s a threat to the peace of this auction! I am the Young Master of the Iron-Fang, and I say he’s price-fixing!"

The guard hesitated, looking at the glowing core in Lucian’s hand. Even he knew that someone holding that kind of power wasn't just a random beggar.

"Caspian," Lucian said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "You’ve spent the last twenty minutes trying to use your name to hide the fact that you're scared. You're scared that the 'nobody' you threw out this morning is already standing over you."

"I am not scared of you!" Caspian yelled, reaching for his own belt. "I’ll kill you right here!"

"Try it," Lucian challenged, his eyes beginning to glow with that dark, golden light again. "The Golden Lotus doesn't like it when people break the peace. But I’d be more than happy to show you what a 'beggar' can do with his hands."

The auctioneer finally found his voice. "Lords! Please! Master Caspian, the bid stands at five thousand stones. Do you wish to go higher, or shall I award the item to Master Lucian?"

Caspian looked at Lucian, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wanted to bid. He wanted to win. But he knew his father would skin him alive if he spent six thousand stones on a root just to win a grudge match against a scavenger. Especially a scavenger who clearly had more wealth than they realized.

"Keep your root," Caspian spat, his voice trembling with rage. "Keep it and rot. This isn't over, Lucian. You might have found a treasure in the dirt, but you're still a dead man walking. The Iron-Fang doesn't forget."

"And the Smith-boy doesn't forgive," Lucian countered.

Caspian grabbed Liora’s arm, nearly yanking her off her feet. "We’re leaving. This place has been tainted by the smell of the junkyard."

Liora looked back at Lucian one last time. 

There was no more mockery in her eyes, only a flickering, ugly spark of regret and fear. She had thrown away a man who could forge suns, all for a man who could only hide behind his father's name.

"Sold!" the auctioneer shouted, slamming his gavel down before Caspian could change his mind. "To Master Lucian, for five thousand stones!"

Lucian stood up, his legs feeling a little shaky now that the adrenaline was fading. He walked to the front, handed over the core, and took the wooden box containing the Phoenix-Heart Root.

"Master Lucian," the auctioneer whispered as he handed over the box. "A word of advice. The Iron-Fang Clan is not known for its patience. You should get to where you’re going quickly."

"I’ve spent my whole life being patient," Lucian replied, tucking the box into his tunic. "Now, I’m in a hurry."

And a few moments later, they arrived, guards of the Iron Clan led by Liora and Caspian, with their eyes filled with murderous intent.

“You would be a fool thinking you were just going to go sought free like that!”