The Invincible Auction House

Chapter 33: The Catalyst

The tension in Rydale reached its breaking point. Word of the warehouse ambush spread like wildfire through the city. The Ironclad Sect celebrated their victory, flaunting the capture of Elira's forces as a testament to their authority. Meanwhile, the remaining rebels retreated further into the shadows, their desperation festering into something more dangerous.

The Merchant Guild, however, was far from pleased. Harron paced the length of his opulent office, the golden filigree on the walls doing little to temper his foul mood. The reports of the warehouse skirmish had raised troubling questions.

"This wasn't the rebels' usual strategy," Harron muttered, his fingers tapping against the polished wood of his desk. "They've never been this bold before."

Felmar, his trusted advisor, leaned forward with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "Perhaps they weren't. What if someone pushed them to act? A third party, perhaps."

Harron froze, his brow furrowing. "Are you suggesting—"

Felmar nodded slowly. "The auction house. It benefits from chaos, does it not? The timing is… suspicious."

The room fell silent as Harron's mind worked through the implications. Finally, his lips curled into a grim smile. "If the auction house wants to play games, then we'll play too."

At the auction house, Adam was unbothered by the rising tensions. The grand hall shimmered with its usual ethereal glow, and the orb pulsed faintly, reflecting the energy of the city outside. Adam stood before it, his arms crossed as he studied the shifting markers.

< SYSTEM MESSAGE: GLOBAL EVENT THRESHOLD REACHED. NEW OPPORTUNITIES UNLOCKED. >

Ren entered the room, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. "Master Adam, the sect and the guild are both growing suspicious of us. Harron especially. He's started asking questions."

Adam turned, his expression calm but his eyes sharp. "Suspicion is a natural byproduct of power. Let him ask. It will only drive him closer."

"But what if he acts against us?" Ren pressed. "The guild has the resources to make things… complicated."

Adam's smirk was cold. "Then he'll learn what happens to those who underestimate this house."

Lira appeared from the shadows, her presence as sly as ever. "The rebellion isn't finished, either. Elira's smart—she'll regroup. If we're not careful, we could find ourselves caught between all three factions."

Adam glanced at her, his tone dismissive. "They'll destroy each other long before they threaten us. All we need to do is ensure the fire keeps burning."

Elsewhere in Rydale, Elira stood in a hidden alcove deep within the catacombs. Her forces were depleted, but her determination burned brighter than ever. She leaned over a map of the city, her finger tracing the guild's main trade routes.

"They think they've won," she said, her voice low and fierce. "But we'll remind them that the shadows never sleep."

A younger rebel stepped forward, his voice hesitant. "Elira, our numbers are too few. If we strike now, we'll be wiped out."

Elira's gaze hardened. "Then we don't strike alone. We find an ally—someone who hates the guild as much as we do."

"And who would that be?" another rebel asked.

Elira's lips twisted into a sly smile. "The Ironclad Sect. If we can convince them that the guild is their true enemy, they'll do our work for us."

Back at the auction house, preparations for the next event were underway. The hall gleamed, every detail meticulously arranged. Adam oversaw the setup with his usual precision, his mind already three steps ahead of the factions outside.

Ren approached hesitantly. "Master Adam, are you sure we should hold another auction so soon? The city's on edge. It might be dangerous."

Adam's smirk was unshaken. "Precisely why we must act now. Desperation drives people to take risks they wouldn't otherwise consider. This auction will push them over the edge."

As the doors opened that evening, the hall filled with the usual mix of wealthy merchants, ambitious cultivators, and shadowy figures. But the atmosphere was different—tense, almost electric. Every guest was acutely aware of the stakes.

Adam stepped forward, his commanding presence silencing the room. "Welcome," he began, his voice smooth as silk. "Tonight's treasures are unparalleled, as always. But remember: power comes to those who dare to seize it."

The orb flared, and the first item appeared in glowing text.

< ITEM 1: VOID RIFT TALISMAN. STARTING BID: 2,000 SPIRIT STONES. >

The crowd murmured in awe. The Void Rift Talisman was a legendary artifact, capable of creating temporary dimensional pockets—ideal for escape, concealment, or ambush. The bidding began fiercely, the tension in the room growing with each shouted offer.

As the auction progressed, Adam watched the room carefully. Harron sat stiffly in his seat, his gaze darting between the other bidders. Across from him, an Ironclad Sect elder maintained a cold composure, though his eyes betrayed his interest in the artifacts.

The final item of the night was revealed—a fragment of an ancient cultivation manual, its text said to contain techniques long lost to time.

< ITEM 5: ANCIENT MANUAL FRAGMENT. STARTING BID: 5,000 SPIRIT STONES. >

The room erupted into chaos as both Harron and the sect elder leaped into action, their bids escalating into a war of words and numbers.

"6,000 spirit stones!" Harron barked.

"7,000," the elder countered, his tone icy.

"8,000!"

"9,000!"

Adam's smirk deepened as the system flared.

< SYSTEM MESSAGE: TENSION ESCALATED. GOOD AND EVIL DEEDS DETECTED. POWER INCREASED BY 20%. >

The auction concluded with the fragment going to the Ironclad Sect, though Harron's dark expression promised retribution. As the guests departed, Adam stood in the empty hall, the orb glowing softly behind him.

"This city is a powder keg," he murmured to himself. "And tonight, I lit the fuse."

End of Chapter 33