The doorman led us into the white, temple-like building—every bit as spacious as its grand exterior had promised. We’d been walking for what felt like ages, yet the venue was still nowhere in sight. Our guide insisted it “wasn’t much farther,” but he’d said that at least three times already.
“You must forgive my unreasonable behavior outside,” he said. “It is no excuse, but never could I have imagined that Your Holy Highness would arrive in such a fashion.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Astirra replied, waving his concerns away. “You were just doing your job—and quite admirably, at that. If anyone was being unreasonable, it was us.”
“As a doorman, I should have recognized you at once. My failure to do so was nothing short of disrespectful. And yet, to have received such clemency from Your Holy Highness... I shan’t forget this day for as long as I live!”
Astirra chuckled. “Flattery will get you nowhere—unless you’re after my autograph. That, I can do.”
“I...couldn’t possibly. But it would be terribly remiss of me to refuse Your Holy Highness’s kindness. P-Perhaps...on the back of my uniform?”
Over the course of their conversation, the doorman’s complexion had returned from a worrying shade of white to its usual color. Now flushed with delight, he beamed as Astirra quickly scribbled on the back of his uniform.
The high priestess seemed more than satisfied with the shift in atmosphere. I was a little concerned about her behavior—her predecessor could freeze an entire room with a stare and would never have been so animated—but maybe it was fine. This Astirra was the real one, even if an impostor had posed as her for who knows how long. Only those who’d met the impostor in person were likely to notice something was off.
Then again, when it came to being the high priestess, I supposed the real Astirra was technically the fake. It was all a bit complicated.
I turned to Lynne beside me, suddenly struck by a thought. “What’s this ‘auction’ we’re going to, anyway? Might be good to know, if I’m expected to participate.”
“It’s an event where goods are put up for sale to multiple buyers,” she explained, looking pensive. “They’re held in the Kingdom of Clays whenever rare relics are uncovered, usually from places like the Dungeon of the Lost. Once an item is presented, bidders compete by declaring how much they’re willing to pay for it. The highest bid wins.”
“So the item goes to whoever offers the most for it?”
“That’s right.”
Lynne had given her explanation in the same brisk, lecturing manner I was accustomed to, but her expression soon darkened. Rashid seemed to notice this too.
“Lady Lynneburg?” he asked. “Are you perhaps feeling some reluctance at the idea of purchasing slaves?”
“Yes, I am,” she answered at length.
“One trades currency for a person’s talents. In that regard, it’s not all that different from a contract of employment.”
“Those forced into slavery are stripped of the right to make their own decisions,” Lynne asserted. “It differs distinctly from a master-servant relationship, which is founded on the free will of both parties.”
“I see. That is certainly an opinion I would expect from a young lady from the country of adventurers, which holds personal freedom in the highest regard.” An amused smile spread across Rashid’s face. “In other words, you are dissatisfied with Sarenza’s laws and social system—and, by extension, with House Sarenza, who established them.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“It might as well be. There’s a reason our fathers are on such bad terms.”
“Perhaps, but I would rather pursue a more cordial relationship between our countries.”
“Of course. As would I,” Rashid said, his shoulders bouncing as if he might burst into laughter at any moment.
“What are you two talking about?” I asked. “It sounds complicated.”
“It’s really quite simple,” Rashid assured me. “We were saying that the slaves you’re about to buy are particularly fortunate.”
“But I wasn’t planning on buying any slaves.”
“Hmm? Did you not come here to bid on the Lepifolk—formerly, the demonfolk?”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to make Rolo’s friends into slaves.”
“So you came to spend an exorbitant amount of money...just to discard your purchases?”
“I guess so. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? It’s my money to spend.”
“Ha ha! I adore the way you think, Noor. It’s uniquely you.”
Rashid seemed delighted—though his laughter turned to surprise when a new voice called out from behind us.
“Hey, Rashid!”
I turned to see a slim young man, with a younger, rather plump boy practically hiding behind him. Though their builds were different, the family resemblance between them was unmistakable.
“Oh? If it isn’t my younger brothers,” Rashid said. “It’s been too long. Are you both doing well?”
“Hmph. Playing the part of an older brother, are you?” the slender one jeered. “Don’t push your luck. I heard your misdeeds finally caught up with you, and now you’re utterly beggared. I’m surprised you’re still shameless enough to show your face around here.”
“Fortunately, I’ve received permission to do as I please. Having nothing to one’s name is rather liberating, by the way. You should try it sometime.”
“Father might have shown you charity, but your losses should never have been the family’s to bear. Pittance or not, it’s preposterous that you would relinquish all you own to some foreign nobody. All you ever do is drag our family’s prestigious name through the mud. Well, heed my words: One of these days, you’ll get what’s coming to you! And so will he!”
“Will we, now? Well, my stance is one thing, but I can’t presume to speak on my successor’s behalf. If you have a complaint, it might be more expedient to take it up with him directly. He’s right here, after all.”
“Come again? What do you mean, right— Eek!”
The moment the pair saw me, they shrieked and fell on their backsides.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Y-You’re the man from the—!”
“B-But how?! When did you get here?!”
“Huh? I arrived with everyone else,” I said. “Wait, do you know me? I don’t think we’ve met.”
“M-Monster! Don’t come any closer!”
“Waaaaaah!”
With impressive dexterity, the boys scrambled backward down the hallway and quickly disappeared from sight.
“What was that about...?” I muttered.
“Goodness me,” Rashid sighed. “That was rather embarrassing. I might only be their half brother, but allow me to apologize on their behalf.”
“Were those the brothers who sent golems to the City Forgotten by Time?”
“Indeed. They’ve never been ones for patience, those two.” Rashid grinned, as apathetic as if they were complete strangers to him. “I wonder what will become of them.”
I noticed then that the incident had drawn some attention to us. People watched from afar, whispering among themselves and casting us curious glances. Some even backed away.
“Everyone’s looking at us,” I noted.
“Well, we are rather famous,” Rashid said matter-of-factly.
“Famous?”
“Have you forgotten everything you’ve done? No matter—let’s go. My brothers might’ve delayed us, but the auction venue is just ahead.”
There were still a few questions I wanted answered, but we thanked our guide and moved on without him. Before long, we reached a large set of doors, which I assumed was the entrance. A man dressed in the same attire as the doorman stood beside them, wearing a professional smile.
“May I take your belongings, sir?” he asked politely, doubtless referring to my Black Blade.
“Do I need to hand it over to get in?” I asked.
“Among our participants are dignitaries and individuals of high station. Aside from a section of the guard detail, anyone who wishes to pass through these doors must hand over their weapons and other dangerous items—particularly those that cannot be concealed. We thank you for your understanding.”
“There’s really no way around it?”
“Am I correct to assume that object is a weapon, sir?”
“I suppose so. It’s pretty important to me, though.”
The Black Blade was a weapon—I couldn’t deny that—but to me, it was so much more. It was a treasured possession I preferred to keep close. Hopefully, the doorman would understand.
“Any chance you could overlook it, just this once?” I asked. “I’ll do my very best not to bother the other guests.”
“My apologies, sir, but we cannot bend on the matter. Please rest assured—our staff will ensure its safekeeping. We shall treat it as though it were a precious keepsake of our own.”
The hint of worry in Lynne’s eyes gave me pause, but the doorman remained adamant.
“All right,” I said at last. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
It made sense that dangerous items couldn’t be taken into the auction, and rules were rules. The thought of entrusting the Black Blade to strangers worried me, but it wouldn’t get stolen if they watched it as closely as the man insisted. In fact, I doubted anyone could steal it, considering how heavy it was. More important—at least for where we were headed—was the Wallet of Mountainous Storage, tucked safely inside my clothes.
“Well, where do you want it?” I asked. “Point the way, and I’ll take it there for you.”
“Oh, no, there is no need for that, sir. Please, allow me to take it for you.”
“Fair warning—it’s pretty heavy.”
“That won’t be a problem, sir. I insist.”
The doorman extended a hand toward me, his professional visage unwavering. The whole exchange reminded me of a recent encounter with Kron, only the man before me now gave the impression he might have less trouble carrying my sword. Figuring it would probably be fine, I presented it to him and—
“Noor, wait!” Rolo yelled. “Don’t let him take it!”
“Huh?”
By the time Rolo’s warning reached me, the Black Blade was already in the doorman’s grasp. He held it effortlessly in one hand, a sinister grin spreading across his face.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll take good care of it.”
Still grinning, he brought the sword to his chest and licked it, his long tongue gliding along its uneven surface. Lynne’s eyes widened with sudden realization, and she immediately moved to cast a spell.
“[Uncover]!”
The man’s appearance rippled as transparent scales sloughed off in chunks, revealing a face we’d all seen before—one wrapped in black bandages.