The Invincible Auction House

Chapter 9: The First Auction

The auction house stood on the outskirts of Rydale, its exterior unassuming yet inviting, radiating an air of quiet mystery. The surrounding area was serene, the soft rustling of leaves in the evening breeze contrasting sharply with the vibrant energy inside. Within, the space gleamed with an otherworldly radiance, its jade walls adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to shift when viewed from the corner of one's eye.

At the center of the room stood the glowing orb, pulsing rhythmically, its hypnotic light casting long, flickering shadows across the floor. The very air inside the auction house seemed alive, humming with anticipation.

Adam stood by the orb, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the pristine room. His former bandits, now dressed in simple but immaculate robes, moved efficiently, setting the final touches. Tables were arranged with precision, and luxurious seats lined the hall, each placed to maximize comfort while ensuring a clear view of the auction stage.

"Perfection is non-negotiable," Adam said, his tone calm but commanding. "Our first impression will determine our future success."

Ren, standing nearby, nodded anxiously as he adjusted a chair for the third time. "Master Adam, do you think the rumors will work? What if no one shows up?"

Adam's lips curled into a faint smile, his confidence unshaken. "They'll come, Ren. Greed and desperation are the strongest lures, and I've made sure they're in abundance. Trust the process."

As dusk fell over Rydale, the first guests began to arrive.

The initial arrival was a middle-aged merchant adorned in fine silks, heavy rings clinking on his fingers with every step. Harron, the leader of the Rydale Merchant Guild, was as shrewd as he was ruthless. His sharp eyes scanned the room with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity as he took a seat near the front.

"This had better be worth my time," he muttered under his breath.

Next came a pair of cultivators clad in crimson and black robes, the unmistakable insignia of the Ironclad Sect emblazoned on their chests. They moved with precision, their hands resting lightly on the hilts of their swords, their cold gazes sweeping the room. Their presence alone exuded authority and danger.

More followed—wealthy traders, ambitious cultivators, and shadowy figures cloaked in anonymity. Each was drawn by the whispered promises of rare treasures and unparalleled opportunities. For most, curiosity and greed outweighed caution.

When the room was full, Adam stepped forward. His presence commanded immediate attention, his calm, confident demeanor magnetic.

"Welcome," he began, his voice smooth and measured. "You are here because you've earned the privilege of an invitation. Each of you has something to gain tonight, and I am here to provide it."

The room fell into an expectant silence, every eye fixed on him.

"This is no ordinary auction house," Adam continued, gesturing toward the glowing orb. "Here, you will find treasures beyond imagination—artifacts, knowledge, power. But be warned: nothing here comes without a price. Choose wisely."

The orb flared to life, bathing the room in golden light. Floating text shimmered into view, drawing gasps from the crowd.

A murmur rippled through the audience. The Stone of Enhancement, a rare artifact capable of significantly boosting cultivation speed, was a treasure that most could only dream of acquiring.

Harron's voice cut through the chatter. "A fine item, but how do we know it's genuine?"

Adam's gaze shifted to him, calm and piercing. "Doubt is natural, but unnecessary. Every item in this house is guaranteed by me. If you question my word, feel free to leave."

Harron hesitated, his pride warring with his greed. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, his smirk forced. "Very well. I bid 100 spirit stones."

The murmur of the crowd grew louder as the bidding climbed. Harron's confident smirk faltered when another voice called out, "150 spirit stones!" One of the Ironclad Sect disciples, his expression as cold as his tone, stared unwaveringly at the artifact.

Harron's fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest of his chair. He leaned toward his advisor, Felmar, who whispered urgently, "You can't let them win, Guildmaster. The sect mustn't gain the upper hand."

Adam watched the exchange from the stage, his expression composed but his thoughts alive with satisfaction. They're already playing my game.

Harron's voice boomed. "200 spirit stones!"

Without hesitation, the disciple countered. "250."

A ripple of tension spread through the room as the bidding war intensified. Harron's face darkened, his frustration simmering. "300!"

Adam allowed the tension to build before raising a hand. His voice cut through the clamor, smooth and deliberate. "Let's not forget," he said, "this is merely the first treasure of the night."

The crowd fell silent, their anticipation palpable. Harron shot a glare at the disciple but leaned back, his anger barely concealed.

Adam's smile remained faint but sharp as he thought, Let the greed simmer. By the end of tonight, they'll beg for more.

The auction continued, the energy in the room growing with each item revealed. The Stone of Enhancement ultimately sold for 500 spirit stones to a cloaked figure, who quickly secured the artifact before retreating into the shadows.

Next, the glowing text revealed another treasure.

The Ironclad Sect disciples leaned forward, their interest piqued. The pill was a lifesaving artifact, capable of healing even mortal wounds. Their calculated bidding quickly escalated into a heated contest, their usual composure cracking under the weight of their desire.

Adam observed with a faint smile. Every bid, every flash of greed or ambition—it all fueled his growing influence.

The system's messages flared briefly before fading, unnoticed by anyone but Adam.

By the end of the night, the auction house had left an indelible mark. The guests departed with treasures in hand and minds ablaze with possibilities. But more importantly, they left with a newfound respect—and wariness—for the mysterious auction house and its enigmatic owner.

Ren approached Adam as the last guest exited, his face alight with excitement. "Master Adam, that was incredible! I didn't think it would go so smoothly."

Adam chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on the glowing orb at the room's center. "This is just the beginning, Ren. Tonight, we've planted seeds. Soon, we'll reap the harvest."

The system's text appeared once more, its glow illuminating the dim room.

Adam's smile deepened. "Let them fight over my treasures. Let them crave what I provide. The more they take, the stronger I become."

He turned toward the door, his mind already racing with plans for the next move. Rydale was only the first step, and the true power of the auction house was yet to be revealed.