2026-04-28 15:25:28The heavy silence of the auction hall was broken by the sound of groaning metal. The two gold-armored guards, men who weighed twice as much as Lucian, were suddenly flying backward. Lucian hadn't even drawn a weapon; he had simply rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms, sending a pulse of the Heaven-Forging Flame through his muscles.
The guards hit the marble floor with a sickening thud, their spears clattering away. The crowd erupted into a chaotic murmur.
"Did you see that?" a merchant whispered, his voice trembling. "He didn't even use a technique. He just... threw them off like they were made of straw."
"Impossible," another replied, squinting at Lucian. "The boy is core-less. We all saw him lose his essence core years ago. He’s a cripple! It must have been a fluke. The guards probably slipped on the floor."
Caspian, who had been halfway out the door, spun around. His face was a mask of disbelief that quickly shifted back into a jagged, defensive arrogance. He marched back toward the center of the hall, pointing a shaking finger at Lucian.
"You see!" Caspian screamed, his voice cracking. "He’s using forbidden arts! He’s a danger to everyone here! Guards, they most have slipped, you fools! Get up and kill him!"
Liora stood beside Caspian, her eyes wide as she watched the two elite guards struggle to find their footing.
"Caspian is right," she added, her voice high and desperate, trying to convince herself more than the crowd. "He has no core. He’s probably using some toxic smoke from the Bone-Yard to dizzy the guards. It’s a trick, nothing more than a pathetic trick from a desperate man."
Lucian stood in the center of the aisle, the box containing the Phoenix-Heart Root tucked securely under one arm. He looked at Liora, then at Caspian, his expression one of pure, weary boredom.
"A trick?" Lucian asked. "Is that what you call it when someone is actually stronger than you? You’ve spent so much time hiding behind your family name that you’ve forgotten what real strength feels like."
"Shut up!" Caspian roared. He turned to the back of the hall where a squad of Royal Guards—men in silver and blue, the Emperor’s own enforcers—stood watch.
"Royal Guards! I am Caspian of the Iron-Fang! This man is a thief and a practitioner of the dark arts! I demand you seize him and throw him into the Black Cells immediately!"
The Royal Guards hesitated for a second, then began to move. Their captain, a man with a scarred face and a heavy broadsword, stepped toward Lucian.
"Step aside, boy," the captain warned. "We don't care about your drama with the Iron-Fang, but we won't have a commoner causing a riot in a Royal-sanctioned auction. Move, or we’ll move you."
"He isn't moving anywhere," a voice like cracking ice rang out from the entrance of the hall.
The sound was so sharp, so authoritative, that everyone—including the Royal Guards—froze in place.
A woman walked into the room. She wasn't wearing the heavy armor of a soldier, but a flowing, midnight-blue gown that shimmered like the night sky. However, pinned to her shoulder was a small, unassuming badge that made the Auctioneer’s face turn as white as a ghost. It was the Crest of the Imperial Vanguard.
Everyone gasped. Not just because of the badge, but because of her beauty. She was like a statue carved from moonlight, her features so perfect they seemed unreal.
Liora, who usually prided herself on being the most beautiful woman in any room, suddenly looked like a common peasant in comparison.
Young nobles and wealthy merchants immediately straightened their tunics, their faces lighting up with greedy interest.
"My lady," one young lord stammered, stepping forward to intercept her. "I am the son of the—"
Seraphina didn't even look at him. She walked past him as if he were a piece of furniture.
"Excuse me, beautiful lady," another tried, flashed a charming smile. "If you are looking for the VIP section, I would be honored to lead the way. A woman of your stature shouldn't be walking amongst—"
Again, she ignored him completely. Her eyes were locked on only one person in the entire hall.
The crowd watched in stunned silence as the most beautiful, clearly high-ranking woman they had ever seen walked straight past the front row, past the VIP boxes, and stopped right in front of the soot-stained scavenger in the back row.
Then, the world seemed to stop. Seraphina, the Ice General, the woman who knelt for no one but the Emperor, lowered her head and bowed deeply before Lucian.
"I have been looking for you," she said, her voice soft but carrying to every corner of the room.
The Auctioneer dropped his gavel. Liora let out a small, strangled sound in the back of her throat. Caspian’s jaw hit his chest so hard it was a wonder it didn't break.
"Wait... what is this?" Caspian stammered, his face turning a sickly shade of grey. "Who is she? Why is she bowing to him?"
"You don't recognize the VVIP badge?" someone whispered from the crowd, their voice full of terror. "She doesn't just have a seat here... her family owns the Golden Lotus and the ground it stands on."
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6
The heavy silence of the auction hall was broken by the sound of groaning metal. The two gold-armored guards, men who weighed twice as much as Lucian, were suddenly flying backward. Lucian hadn't even drawn a weapon; he had simply rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms, sending a pulse of the Heaven-Forging Flame through his muscles.The guards hit the marble floor with a sickening thud, their spears clattering away. The crowd erupted into a chaotic murmur."Did you see that?" a merchant whispered, his voice trembling. "He didn't even use a technique. He just... threw them off like they were made of straw.""Impossible," another replied, squinting at Lucian. "The boy is core-less. We all saw him lose his essence core years ago. He’s a cripple! It must have been a fluke. The guards probably slipped on the floor."Caspian, who had been halfway out the door, spun around. His face was a mask of disbelief that quickly shifted back into a jagged, defensive arrogance. He marched back towar
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
4
The moment Lucian’s fingers wrapped around the cold, trembling shaft of the Star-Piercer, the world seemed to grow quiet. The insults of the mercenaries and the frantic breathing of the Ice General faded into a dull hum. In his mind, a sharp, metallic chime rang out, clearer than any bell he had ever heard in his father’s old forge.[Ding! Scanning Legendary Grade Artifact: Star-Piercer...][Status: Soul-Fracture Detected. Conduit Decay: 88%.][System Directive: Host possesses 'Heaven-Forging Flame'. Initiate Emergency Resonance?]‘Do it’ Lucian thought, his jaw tightening.[Ding! Temporary Repair: Star-Piercer Awakened! Soul-Binding active for 300 seconds.]To the onlookers, Lucian was just standing there, a dirty scavenger holding a broken spear. But beneath his skin, the Heaven-Forging Flame was surging, regaining life. He didn’t just hold the spear; he became its heartbeat. The cracked conduits within the metal were suddenly flooded with a golden light that acted like a celestia
3
The golden light from the star-peircer began to fade back into a dull, flickering glow as Lucian pulled his hand away. He looked at the mercenaries, then at Seraphina, his face an unreadable mask. The silence that followed the roar of the spear was heavy, broken only by the distant clatter of falling scrap metal somewhere in the depths of the Bone-Yard.The mercenary leader, recovering from his initial shock, spat on the ground. He gripped his jagged blade tighter, his eyes darting between Lucian’s glowing palms and the General’s trembling spear."A neat trick, smith-boy," the leader hissed, though his voice lacked its previous bravado. "You sparked a dead stick. That doesn't change the fact that you're a core-less dog and she’s a General with a broken toy. We have orders to bring her head to Master Caspian, and yours will make a fine bonus."Lucian didn't even flinch. He didn't drop into a fighting stance or reach for a weapon. He simply wiped a streak of grease from his cheek and l
2
Lucian’s feet felt heavy as he trekked deeper into the heart of the Bone-Yard. His mother was still breathing, but her breath was shallow, like a flickering candle in a windstorm.The Heaven-Forging Flame hummed in his chest, a strange heat that made his blood feel alive, but he knew magic alone wouldn’t fix her lungs. He needed the Silver-Root herb, a rare plant that grew in the shadows of Aether-rich scrap.He stopped in front of a massive pile of discarded engine parts. To anyone else, it was just junk, but his eyes—now glowing with a faint golden tint—saw more. He reached out and touched a rusted gear that looked like it had been rotting for a century."You’re hurting, aren't you?" Lucian whispered, his voice barely a breath. "You were part of a great ship once. Now you're just forgotten. Don't worry, I can feel your pulse."As his fingers brushed the surface, the scrap, It began to pulse. A soft, blue glow emitted from the metal, responding to his touch like a dog greeting its m
1
Lucian wiped a layer of toxic soot from his forehead, his fingers trembling as he clutched a jagged piece of Aether-Scrap. This junkyard was a graveyard of ancient machines and failed ambitions, a place where the sun struggled to pierce through the heavy, grey smog. For most, it was a dump. For Lucian, it was the only place left to survive, get things that the elite no longer deemed as worthy to use, clean, resell and feed.That was his daily routine. He tucked the scrap into his tattered bag and began the long trek toward the Iron-Fang Clan’s territory. Every step felt like a needle pricking his soul. He wasn't always a scavenger. Once, he was the son of the Emperor’s Royal Smith, a man whose revered by all for his unique skill of crafting metals into deadly magical armours.But that life was a ghost now."Hold on, Mother," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I’m coming with the medicine."His mother, Elena, was dying. She had contracted Cinder-Lung, a cruel disease that ate awa
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