Mistress Candy let the moment linger.

  “The Crimson Genesis Elixir. A choice for the bold… or the desperate. We will begin the bidding at eight dragon gold.”

  A pause.

  “Eight,” someone called out immediately. A lean man in his forties wearing a green-stitched crest of the Thornwillow Alchemic Guild called out the bid.

  “Nine,” came another bid from the lower left balcony. A woman in a crimson shawl leaned forward.

  “Nine and a half,” a slightly younger voice rang out. Aston looked at the source of the voice and recognized the boy immediately. He was one of two participants who had awakened a clear potential, similar to Aston - Froilan Abernathy.

  Froilan was seated two rows ahead of Aston’s, with both his parents.

  “Ten,” the man from Thornwillow Alchemic Guild called out again.

  “Eleven!” the woman in the red shawl fought back.

  “Thirteen!” Froilan pushed back desperately.

  “Fourteen,” Aston said calmly.

  A few heads turned. Froilan’s head jerked slightly. He hadn’t seen who said it, but judging from the voice, it seemed like a young man. Mistress Candy gave a graceful nod to acknowledge the bid.

  “Fifteen,” said the alchemist.

  “Sixteen,” Aston said, louder than the previous bid.

  Now, Froilan turned around fully.

  “...Isn’t that?

  “Seventeen!” Froilan snapped a moment later, loud and annoyed.

  “Eighteen,” replied the alchemist.

  “Twenty five!” Aston didn’t hesitate to raise the bid by seven dragon gold.

  A gasp and silence followed.

  Froilan’s fingers twitched and looked back at his parents. They released a long sigh and sat dejectedly. The alchemist and the red-shawled woman looked at Aston.

  “Going once…” Candy called.

  “Going twice…”

  A chime rang gently overhead, her wrist flicked with the sound.

  “Sold for twenty five dragon gold.”

  Aston once again saw his paddle number on the screen.

  Quiet murmurs spread across the seats. A few glances turned curious. Then came a child’s voice.

  “Hey! Isn’t that the kid from the Spirit Awakening Ceremony?”

  “I saw him! The one who had a clear potential reading!”

  “I guess he won’t be a clear for long.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Froilan glared at Aston, but couldn’t do anything. It was an auction, and they lost.

  Aston expressed enjoyment and happiness in his face. Inside, a quiet satisfaction welled.

  Let them see. Let them believe.

  Mistress Candy’s voice rose once more, drawing attention back to the stage.

  “And now, dear guest, our fifth Silver Star lot. This is a flute that…”

  But Aston didn’t hear the rest. At that moment, as the elixir was sealed away and prepared for transfer, he knew. The seed of his misdirection had been planted. No one would question why his potential changed. He leaned back in his seat, the finality of his bid settling into his chest like a quiet weight. He had what he came for.

  The Crimson Genesis Elixir - or rather, the record of him purchasing it - would serve its purpose. As the auction surged ahead into items he had no intention of competing for, his mind had already pulled away from the glamour of the Silver Star portion of the auction.

  The cheers and gasps of the audience faded into the background.

  Mistress Candy’s voice continued to echo distantly through the silver-lit auction hall.

  “Our next lot is a crafted item of particular interest to sword users.”

  An elegant darkwood case was carried out by two attendants and laid gently atop a velvet-clad pedestal. As its lid lifted, the contents shimmered faintly under the stage light.

  —

  [Silver Star Lot # 09: Embersteel Fang Blade]

  [Grade: High-Grade Weapon]

  [Description: A forged longsword made of Embersteel, known for its heat retention and explosive kinetic release. When paired with fire-element techniques, it enhances cutting speed and penetrative force. Suitable for mid-tier cultivators.]

  [Starting bid: 20 dragon gold]

  [Bid increment: 2 dragon gold]

  —

  Bidding resumed - less frenzied than with the Crimson Genesis Elixir or the spatial ring, but no less serious. The weapon soon fetched 34 dragon gold, claimed by a stern man with twin swords strapped to his back.

  Then came a pendant imbued with a mild shield formation, fetching 22 dragon gold, followed by a delicate feather quill said to improve transcription of ancient runes, brought by an archivist from the third row for 11 dragon gold. But in all of this, Aston’s mind was elsewhere.

  One by one, the lots cycled through.

  Each item bore a story, a legacy, a utility, and a price to match.

  Then, at last, Mistress Candy gestured toward the stage as the silver hue around her dimmed. A slow, deliberate ripple of golden light danced across the frame of the screen.

  The auction hall quietened again, this time to a level more profound than before. Even the children, still whispering about Aston moments earlier, had gone silent.

  Mistress Candy’s voice took on a note of ceremonial poise.

  “And now, honored guests… we arrive at the Gold Star segment of our evening. Items presented under this banner are of extreme rarity - whether in origin, power, or legacy. All Gold Star items are subject to pre-screened financial eligibility, and any attempts to sabotage or interrupt will be dealt with by force.”

  Even her usual smile had faded now. This was no longer showmanship, but a declaration.

  Behind her, the curtain lifted slowly.

  And the screen flashed with a golden gleam.

  —

  [Gold Star Lot # 01: Azure Sky Treader Boots]

  [Grade: Spirit Artifact - Movement Class]

  [Description: Forged from the hide of a Sky Howler and refined with the bone marrow essence of a Swift Wind Hippogriff, these boots grant short-distance air dashes and reduce fall impact by 70 percent.. Excellent for mobility, scouting, and evasion.]

  [Starting bid: 100 dragon gold]

  [Bid increment: 10 dragon gold]

  —

  A collective inhale swept through the crowd.

  Aston sat forward slightly, more out of reflect than intent. He had no plans to bid on the Gold Star items, but he couldn’t help but watch.

  The first bid came from a sect elder seated at the very edge of the inner balcony. “One hundred twenty.”

  “One-forty,” followed by a masked bidder.

  “One-sixty!”

  A blur of paddles.

  By the time the dust settled, the boots were one at 210 dragon gold. The hall went silent as the chime sealed the deal.

  Mistress Candy offered only the faintest of smiles.