Chapter 43: Charlotte and the Ending, and the Beginning

Reynard and the others were in an uproar.

It was only natural—they had just watched someone slam right into the upper limit without hesitation.

Too reckless, too thoughtless… At this point, maybe that made him a big shot.

"…Three hundred fifty-two."

A voice rose. The amount was small, perhaps just to test the waters.

"Three hundred fifty-five!"

But he didn’t stop.

Murmurs spread, both from their side and ours.

"Trichel!?"

"No, no, no! I get why you’d doubt my information network, but come on! I’m telling you, this isn’t a lie!"

"Seems so. Look at them."

The hall grew lively.

Among it all, the noisiest place—the fools’ seats—erupted in angry shouting.

"Wait, hey! That’s way past your limit—"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! I won’t sit back and be mocked like that!"

"But your father told you—"

"He’ll overlook it this time too! Just watch. Three hundred seventy!"

Hopeless. That wasn’t mere desperation anymore.

Nothing would stop him now. He was so far gone he was bidding against himself, driving the price higher when no one else was even competing.

Gold coins. We’re talking gold coins. Did he even understand what three hundred seventy of them could do?

In the lower districts, you could live comfortably on that. Even wastefully, you’d last years. That kind of money—no one should ever squander it just for pride.

I was too shocked to speak.

Watching this unfold, I had no idea what words would even fit.

It felt like watching a machine overheat and self-destruct all on its own.

"…Three hundred eighty."

"Three hundred ninety!"

Even when someone spoke bitterly, the reckless voice immediately overwrote it.

Where was this heading?

"Trichel. If, say, they can’t actually pay, what happens?"

"It’d be judged as malicious disruption. I don’t know all the details, but at best… they probably couldn’t stay in this town anymore."

"That means…"

If some reckless fool wanted to self-destruct, fine.

But didn’t that also mean—if Riven did the same, he’d be eliminated from the succession war altogether?

I looked at Riven. His face was pale. If this weren’t under the Federation’s authority, the killing intent radiating off him said he’d already cut that man down.

Was this really acceptable?

After all that effort, throwing everything aside to commit fully, only to have some thoughtless idiot wreck it all?

How could that be allowed? No—it couldn’t be allowed!

Somehow, somehow I had to do something. Think of something—!

"If we raise a complaint that he’s bidding beyond his limit—!"

"And what’s your proof? If he plays dumb, that’s the end."

"Then when he can’t pay, they’ll restart the auction—"

"Normally, the Federation just confiscates the item. I’ve never seen them resell the same thing. I imagine they privately sell it to someone reliable. Whether it ever comes back to us… doubtful."

Every idea I offered was shot down.

But I could see it in Trichel’s eyes—she wasn’t denying me just to crush hope. She was watching me closely, making sure I didn’t fling myself into reckless schemes.

And I could feel it—she wanted to say something.

I already knew what. That I should just give up. That Riven wasn’t my concern. That I should cut my losses and call it misfortune.

"…Charlotte."

"Be quiet."

"But—"

"Just shut up!"

My voice sharpened.

The hand reaching toward me slowly withdrew.

"…Four hundred."

Riven hit his limit.

The cost was immense. If this failed, he’d never be able to make another move.

Please. Let the other side realize their foolishness and back down. This is the last chance.

It’s for your own sake too. Understand it. Get wise—just this once. Someone, anyone, stop this.

I clasped both hands before my face and prayed.

I don’t believe in gods. But I prayed anyway. Anything, just not this cruel ending—

"—Four hundred ten!"

The voice rang out across the hall as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

At once, the room went silent. Despair from those who understood, confusion from those who didn’t. Together, it was as if time itself had frozen.

"W-what? I won? I won, didn’t I?"

"Y-you… you can actually pay that?"

"Ha! We’ll sort it out later. Sure, maybe I spent a bit too much… but let me enjoy this moment. I won, I won! Ha! With this, that girl will—"

Noise buzzed somewhere. Be quiet.

I needed time to process this.

"…So this is the end."

I don’t know how much time passed. But when Riven finally muttered those words, my own time resumed.

"Riven…"

"No. Wait. But… hmm."

"Riven."

"…Sorry. I think I’m a little shaken."

The depth of his disappointment showed just how much he’d wanted it.

To have everything wrecked by such a farcical ending—it was impossible to imagine how much that must hurt.

Even Trichel, who’d usually toss a cutting remark, stayed quiet this time.

"The succession war can’t even compare. He’d laugh, wondering what kind of idiocy this was."

The words sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"Yes… our funds remain intact. A shame, but it was just a detour."

I wanted to cover my ears. I couldn’t bear it.

Wasn’t there something, anything we could do? Was this truly the end?

"My true goal remains. I just lost sight of it for a moment—"

No matter how hard I thought, no answer came. I couldn’t tell what was right anymore.

So I admitted the one thing I knew for sure—that I had reached the breaking point.

"Four hundred fifty!"

I stood up on the spot, raising my voice so that everyone here—without exception—would hear me.

I could feel every gaze in the hall snap toward me.

"What is wrong with you people!? I said four hundred fifty—four hundred fifty!"

I shouted at everyone staring at me.

At Reynard. At that idiot. …And even at Riven, sitting there dumbfounded beside me.

Damn it, once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. The anger just kept boiling up.

Fine then. Whatever. I’ll say what I want.

This is a one-time auction anyway. It’s not like I’m after anything in particular. If they ban me after this, I couldn’t care less!

"How the hell are we supposed to have a proper auction when some colossal fool keeps bidding more than he can pay!?"

"Wh-wait, Charlotte…?"

"Shut up, Trichel! Hey, you, with the stupid face!"

I pointed straight at the idiot who’d been bidding money he didn’t have.

Yeah, you. The one blinking in confusion like, Who, me?

"What the hell’s wrong with you!? Charging ahead like some runaway train, ignoring every rule of the game! Don’t screw with us!"

"B-but…"

"No buts! First you treated people like objects, and now you’re charging in without a single thought in that empty skull! Fill your head before you show your face again! Every single thing you do is disgusting!"

I didn’t care how the atmosphere shifted around me—I kept talking.

Someone beside me was trying to calm things down, but too bad. I was going to say my piece.

"And what the hell was that line, ‘Won’t you be my concubine?’ Are you insane!? Who in their right mind would climb aboard a sinking ship like you!?"

"B-but still—!"

"Still nothing! Don’t you dare try to argue, you worthless maggot! Listen good—I’ll never be your concubine! And I’ll never hand this blade over to some reckless bastard who bids money he doesn’t even have! Got it? Back down already, you damn trash!"

I spat every word out in a single breath, then stood there heaving for air.

I said it. I finally said it.

Sure, part of me regretted it… but the sense of accomplishment outweighed everything else.

Whatever they said now, I wasn’t going to regret it. Too late. I was done caring.

The hall was silent again, but this time not like before.

Something was off.

I looked around. Riven, Trichel, Reynard, all the other participants—they were all staring at me. I knew that much. But their expressions…

It wasn’t shock. Not exactly…

Clap, clap, clap.

Dry applause rang out.

Instinctively, I turned toward the sound.

"My, what a splendid tirade!"

The one applauding was the hostess on the stage.

She stepped forward with deliberate exaggeration, one step, two, arms spread wide as if to flaunt her presence.

Such a simple motion, yet it seemed horribly distorted.

"What a marvelous exchange! Truly worth witnessing—so says that person!"

That person? Who—no. I already knew.

I understood.

Which meant…

"Magical reaction surge!?"

Trichel’s cry rang out beside me.

Riven leapt from his seat, springing across chairs toward the stage.

And then it all clicked.

In this auction hall, there was one place that fit. A space set apart, out of our reach.

It had been in front of us all along—the one place under the spotlight, where no participant would ever tread.

"Perplexed, are you? Then allow me to reveal the trick!"

From the side of the stage, a crowd cloaked in mantles emerged.

Among them, two stood out with appearances unlike the rest.

Riven reached the stage first, but the cloaked crowd blocked his path, keeping him from reaching the hostess.

Before the crowd could fully comprehend what was happening, the women on stage moved to the next step.

"Like so!"

The hostess tore off her costume in one swift motion.

Underneath—her skin bore intricate patterns, so fine that even from a distance the details were unmistakable.

"All that’s needed is enough magic to connect two distant points! The location itself is bound directly into the body with inscribed arrays! Fine preparations are hidden in the clothing beforehand to erase all traces!"

"Magic reaction spiking again—!? No way, this is too fast! This wasn’t supposed to happen!"

"Well then, ladies and gentlemen, I bid you adieu. From here on—"

With that, a blinding light and roaring wind exploded from the stage, tearing through the hall.

I shielded my face with my arms. The gale was so fierce I couldn’t even open my eyes.

Seconds. That was all it took. In those few seconds of wind, everything changed.

The shockwave must have blasted outward as well—Riven, who had been near the stage, was hurled back across the hall.

And on the stage, the hostess was gone. In her place—

"How do you do, everyone. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clear as a bell. No one in the hall could have missed it, not even those seated in the farthest rows of the second floor.

Clad in a jet-black dress, a woman of purest darkness stood there, exuding an air of noble grace.