Chapter 39: Charlotte and the Second Day of the Auction

We moved inside the auction hall and once again scanned our surroundings.

I looked over at Reynard and the others. It seemed they hadn’t found anything suspicious on the second floor. Nothing odd on the first floor either.

We sat in the same seats as yesterday and decided to go over the situation with Riven.

"Hmm, if there’s nothing in the hall itself, then where could it be?"

"No idea. But one thing’s certain—he’s definitely preparing something somewhere."

"So in the end, we just have to keep grinding away at it. Pretty rough, huh."

If only we had a genius on our side too. Unfortunately, we don’t.

"If it comes down to a direct confrontation, what do we do?"

"We’re acting to avoid that very outcome. But… if it did happen, we’d have little chance of winning."

"Even with Reynard and the others around?"

"Yeah."

It was the first time Riven had mentioned Reynard’s group in that context, but he still declared it without hesitation. That meant he wasn’t being self-deprecating anymore—just calmly analyzing the situation.

I swallowed hard.

"If he gets serious, there’s probably almost no one who could beat him. Even the current king would be questionable."

"Then we absolutely need to avoid a direct fight."

I shifted my gaze from Riven back to the stage. People were starting to gather up there—looked like the second day of bidding was about to begin.

"If there’s any chance at all, it’s probably in the beginning. He tends to hold back at first, so we’d need to hit him in that opening."

"Eh? He’s really the type to get cocky like that?"

"Yeah. That’s his way. Because he knows he’s the stronger one, he doesn’t go all out—he takes the opponent’s full strength head-on and then crushes them from above. That’s his style."

What a nasty personality.

But well, for us that’s actually good news. He’s practically handing us a win condition on a silver platter. No reason not to be happy about it.

The opening words for day two were announced, and the auction began.

Unlike yesterday, I wasn’t here to enjoy myself—I was watching people’s reactions.

I kept in mind what I’d overheard earlier in the hall, trying to figure out who might be connected to who, and which groups were targeting what items. That was the kind of information I was after today.

Ears gathering info, eyes watching the stage, mouth trading words with Riven. Busy work.

"You got any clever tricks for catching him off guard?"

"Of course not. If I did, I’d have used them already."

"So basically, it’s still down to playing it by ear. Ugh, I hate that."

Oh? The stage floor opened up and a showcase rose from below. So they’ve got mechanisms like that too. Lots of gimmicks in this place.

"Can I ask about that woman’s specs in detail? Like what kind of stuff she can pull?"

"Yeah, it’s better to share. But remember, this is only what I know. I don’t know the extent of her trump cards."

"Even so, better than knowing nothing."

Looking closer, the people on stage weren’t exactly the same as yesterday. Maybe they rotate daily. Makes sense—it’d be tough on someone’s throat to shout like that four days in a row.

"Her weapon’s a whip. Made of special material that splits into eight strands. She controls each one with magic power, so despite being a single weapon, it lets her respond to a wide variety of situations. That’s her basic fighting style."

"A whip, huh. So that gives her range. Plus lots of attacks."

An opponent who can always read ahead, armed with that many strikes… just imagining it made me realize how dangerous she’d be.

"That’s not all. Each strand is reinforced with basilisk scales. In direct clashes they don’t lose to steel blades. Actually, they’re even more troublesome—they can chip your weapon."

"A versatile killing tool. In the hands of someone who can read moves ahead, that’s going to be a nightmare."

But not something to despair over.

I glanced at Riven—his expression was twisted like he’d just bitten into something sour.

"…Also, in our clan, each of us inherits a special ability called an Authority."

It looked like he had a hard time bringing himself to say it. His face told the story.

Authority. Was that different from magic?

I hadn’t heard of any hereditary abilities before. That meant they were extremely rare.

Was there something about this Authority that he really didn’t want to talk about? Or was it a forbidden subject, never to be spoken of? Judging from the situation, probably the former.

But I couldn’t just leave it unasked. Not now.

"So that Authority is the real problem?"

"Yeah. That’s why fighting her head-on isn’t an option."

So it was really that bad. Honestly, scary.

Wait. If it was inherited by bloodline, then did Riven have an Authority too? Couldn’t he use his to counter hers? …No. If he could, he wouldn’t be making that face.

And… it looked like he really didn’t want me to press further right now.

So I pretended not to notice. For now. That was enough.

"If I had to sum up his Authority in one word—"

"Whoa! Now that’s surprising!"

The words he was about to say were drowned out by a voice booming from the stage across the hall.

The sheer volume startled us, and we all instinctively turned our gaze toward the stage.

"The starting bid for this lot was ten silver coins, but would you believe it—two hundred gold coins have just been offered! And the bidder is a guest in the second-floor seats!"

The auctioneer on stage gestured dramatically, pointing toward the bidder.

Following the cue, I turned my eyes toward them—and our gazes met.

"…Ugh. Our eyes met."

"That idiot."

The one who had cornered me in the hallway yesterday, demanding I become his mistress. As if to flaunt his wealth, the moment he realized our eyes met, he lightly waved in my direction to draw attention.

I saw Riven glance toward him too, and he immediately stopped after noticing.

"The item just sold… is a talisman from the Eastern country? Some kind of magical tool, right?"

"I see. So that’s the idea."

Riven seemed to have immediately understood the situation.

Wait… this was done with intent.

"Hey, do you know who placed the bids for this lot?"

"Uh, let me think… I believe three or four people were taking turns. I could tell by distinguishing their voices."

"Then those are the enemy group in the auction. Remember them."

Huh? Enemy group?

I didn’t understand, and Riven noticed. He started explaining further.

"You remember our earlier discussion about team strategies in auctions?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, they were doing the same thing just now."

Ah, I see. Within their group, they artificially raise the price to discourage other competitors. That means the people bidding on that item were probably his allies. Got it.

But what does that have to do with us? How can he declare them enemies so confidently?

Seeing my confusion, Riven continued.

"According to the catalog, there’s another lot from the Eastern country scheduled to appear alongside that talisman. The fact they intentionally met our gaze? That’s a straightforward declaration of war."

…Huh?

Hearing it laid out like that, I could more or less understand.

Sure, it could be a coincidence, but considering the hostility I could feel from him, it wasn’t something I could dismiss.

"You mean, this is about—"

"Yeah."

Riven leaned back deeper into his chair, arms crossed, looking somewhat exasperated.

In a bad way, it was as if his venom had been drained.

"I don’t know where the information leaked from, but it seems they intend to pull the same stunt with tomorrow’s sword."

Showing off that they successfully won the Eastern country lot today, they’re signaling that they’ll do the same with tomorrow’s item—the sword we’re after.

Whether they know we’re targeting that particular sword or not, I have a feeling they do. That vibe… it was malicious.

"Spending two hundred gold coins? That’s just them flaunting their wealth. It’s meant to show you’ve got no chance."

"W-Wait, isn’t that a bit dangerous?"

Competing directly against the upper class with actual wealth is rough.

And now, trying to win them over would be impossible. This auction is going to be even tougher than I thought.

Thanks to Reynard, the number of competitors had gone down, making the items easier to secure—but now, it feels like everything’s back to zero, or worse.

"Don’t worry."

Even so, Riven remained unshaken, as if this had all been expected.

"I could see it coming. People like that—prideful as hell—they just can’t help retaliating."

"So… that means we actually have a chance, right?"

"Of course. They underestimate us, thinking we’re just ordinary adventurers. But I’ve prepared more than enough to exceed that."

He smiled like he’d finally found a good way to vent his frustrations.

I guessed he’d been bottling up a lot of stress.

Still, being around him makes the atmosphere more relaxed. And that’s good—he seems to be enjoying it.

"Information warfare? That’s exactly my kind of battlefield. That’s what I’m made for."

I responded with a wry smile.