Chapter 214

Janus stopped just short of the auction house entrance.

The doors towered above him, framed by runes etched so deeply into the stone that they seemed less carved and more grown there. Power radiated from them in steady pulses—wards layered upon wards, each one humming with restrained violence. The kind of magic that didn’t shout its presence, but waited patiently to be tested.

Two guards stood at attention before the doors, armor polished, eyes sharp. Not ceremonial guards—real ones. Veterans. The sort who noticed details.

One stepped forward, polite but firm.
“Sir. Your pass, please?”

Janus felt the familiar, comforting click of calculation settle into place.

Of course, he didn’t have one.

The auction house didn’t sell invitations. It selected them. Rich merchants, high nobles, guild leaders, high ranking adventurers—and tonight, if rumor held true, even the king himself. Security would be tighter than usual. That was fine. Tighter systems simply meant more rules to exploit. It’s more fun.

Janus smiled faintly, the expression of an old man mildly embarrassed by his own forgetfulness.

[Mind Illusion]

Mana slid from his body like a whisper rather than a flood. He reached into his left pocket, slow and deliberate, then opened his palm.

There was nothing there.

But to the guards, there was.

A thin parchment pass rested neatly against his skin, bearing the invitation they expected to see. Not because Janus created the image in detail—but because their own minds filled in the gaps. The illusion didn’t overwrite reality. It nudged perception just enough for certainty to do the rest.

The guards leaned in briefly, glanced at his hand, then straightened.

“Please enter, sir, hope you enjoy the night.” one said, smiling.

Janus inclined his head in thanks and stepped past them, feeling the wards ripple as they accepted him. Not fooled—convinced. That distinction mattered.

Inside, he slowed his pace even further.

The cane tapped softly against the polished floor as he walked, each step measured, slightly uneven. He let his shoulders sag just a bit. Let the image settle. Old. Frail. Harmless.

Meanwhile, his eyes moved constantly.

He took in the crowd with practiced efficiency—clusters of nobles surrounded by guards, merchants flanked by assistants, families packed tightly together to prevent isolation. No one important came alone unless they had a reason.

Janus was looking for someone who didn’t.

He ignored the front seats first. Too visible. Too many variables. His gaze drifted instead toward the middle and edges, where discretion outweighed prestige.

According to the information from one of their members, the duke would not attend but his son would. He expected him to be alone.

There.

A young man, well-dressed, posture relaxed but alert. Janus recognized him immediately—Duke Stark son. He paused briefly, noting the young woman beside him around his age and the two guards stationed beside their seats.

Must be his girlfriend, Good to be young. Janus guessed.

He moved on to his next target: he could remove them from their seats but controlling multiple minds simultaneously would be inefficient. Wasteful. Mana was a resource, and tonight, he would need every drop.

Further along the curve of the seating, he found what he wanted.

Another young man, he was the youngest son of Baron Brack. No visible guards. Sitting slightly apart, hands folded, expression.. Perhaps angry at the world? He must have had so many problems. The most vulnerable ones. 

Janus approached slowly, leaning a little heavier on his cane as if tired.

“Good evening,” he said warmly.

The young man looked up, frowning.
“What do you want? Old man.”

Their eyes met.

Janus counted silently.

One.

Two.

Three.

[Mind Dominance]

The world narrowed.

Mana surged—not violently, but decisively—like a key sliding into a lock designed specifically for it. Resistance flickered, weak and unfocused, then collapsed. The man’s pupils dulled for a fraction of a second.

He stood.

“Here is your seat, sir,” the young man said, voice flat, empty of inflection.

Janus nodded, satisfied, and lowered himself into the chair.

The young man turned and walked away without another word.

By morning, he would wake somewhere unpleasant—an alley, perhaps, or a cheap inn—head pounding, memories fractured. He would assume drink.

He would never know the truth.

Janus rested both hands on his cane and allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction.

[Mindmaster]

An unknown class. And like all truly dangerous things, its strength lay not in brute force—but the mind itself, trickery perhaps was the right word.

He remembered the academy’s offer. Scholarship as soon as he awakened his class. He was initially going to but after a few testing and experiments, Janus had learned, the skills he had were most effective when no one knew it existed.

His gaze lifted toward the stage as the hum of the auction house deepened.

…….

The announcer stood at the center, posture relaxed, voice commanding without enchantment—meaning his skill lay in amplification and control. Behind him, attendants waited, hands hovering near activation seals that could seal the entire dome in seconds. At least that's what she heard.

Kana scanned the crowd again with her [High Awareness]

No obvious threat.

Which made it worse. She couldn’t find anyone to focus on. She had no suspects at the moment.

Suri stifled a yawn as the twenty-third item was paraded across the stage, her eyes glassy with boredom. Two hours. At least two. The auction had become a slow, grinding march of jeweled trinkets, and other strange dungeon items.

“When are we getting to the main items?” she muttered, slumping back in her seat.

“It’s expected,” Leo replied calmly, legs crossed, hands folded like this was all part of some grand lesson. “When skill books are involved, the host house always pads the front. They want the rich to burn coin early.”

Kana nodded absently, her attention drifting elsewhere. She glanced sideways at Boris.

Or rather—at the lizard on top of Boris.

Thorne sat curled atop his head, tail wrapped comfortably around one horn of Boris’s helmet, eyes shut, breathing slow and steady. The roar of the crowd, the booming announcements, the clatter of bids—none of it disturbed her.

Kana almost smiled. She must have a skill that can let her sleep through chaos. A useful skill.

The announcer’s voice cracked through the hall like a whip, unassisted by enchantment yet powerful enough to silence the murmurs.

“Next item—likely the final offering before the main item themselves!”

The room leaned forward as one.

“It’s scheduled as the main item tonight if not from the skills books. Presenting the powerful—[Viper Bow]!”

The red cloth was pulled away.

Gasps rippled outward like a shockwave.

Encased in a transparent barrier of skill-formed glass rested a bow that seemed alive. Its body was forged from thick metallic limbs, dark purple veins running through pale green metal like poison through flesh. The string shimmered silver, vibrating faintly as if eager to be drawn.

A list of descriptions in English was written beside it.

[Viper Bow]

Double Damage when equipped

Enhanced Critical Rate

Attack Speed +20%

Accuracy +35%

Agi +12

Str +2

Int +1

Passive: Inflicts Paralysis Poison

Penalty: Movement Speed will be reduced by 20% when equipped.

Kana gulped. It was a rare and very dangerous item. They are right this time, Kana thought. The longer the line description, the stronger the item.

“Let’s bid,” Kana said softly.

Boris choked on air. He leaned toward her, voice low and strained. “Kana. No. Don’t get carried away. We’re here for a mission. Remember the quest?”

Leo smirked. “Girls will be girls. I’ll bid—but we need a limit. What’s our ceiling?”

Suri snapped her head toward him. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Boris quickly explained what Leo meant, “He means—uh—girls like buying things. Flashy things.”

Kana ignored them all. “Thirty gold.”

Suri’s eyes widened. She leaned in, whispering urgently. “Kana. Are you sure you have that much?”

Kana thought briefly of the stolen treasury from The Sun group. She didn’t tell them about how much exactly she got from them.

“Yes,” she said. “It’ll be worth it.”

The announcer raised his hand. “We’ll start at—fifty gold!”

Kana almost muttered a curse. Her budget didn’t even make it at the starting price.

The hall erupted.

“Sixty!”

“Seventy!”

“Eighty!”

Leo raised his hand casually. “Eighty.”

Suri and Boris reacted instantly. Boris hooked an arm around Leo’s neck, hissing, “Are you insane?! We don’t have that kind of coin!”

Leo laughed, completely unbothered. “Relax. Kana will pay me later. Right?”

Kana nodded once and smiled. “How did you read my mind? But one hundred is the limit.”

Leo chuckled. “How long do you think I’ve known you?”

The bids climbed relentlessly.

One hundred twenty.

One fifty.

One eighty.

Kana felt her stomach tighten—but then the hammer dropped.

“Two hundred twenty gold!”

The number slammed into the hall like a physical blow.

Kana’s thoughts blanked.

Two hundred… twenty.

“Should I try to bid?” Leo teased. 

Boris and Suri quickly held both of his arms.

“Going once. Twice.”

The hammer fell.

“Sold!”

Suri exhaled slowly, relief washing over her face. Boris slumped back into his chair. For the first time that night, they were grateful to lose.

Applause thundered through the dome, but Kana barely heard it. Her gaze lingered on the bow as it was carried away, mind racing—not with regret, but calculation. Forget it. It’s too risky to steal. I might find a better item at the kingdom’s treasury.

“Strange,” Suri said suddenly.

The word cut through the steady hum of the auction house.

Kana turned slightly, keeping her gaze forward as if still focused on the stage. “What is it?”

“One of my illusion scouts outside,” Suri murmured, her voice low enough to vanish beneath the announcer’s cadence. “It’s seeing Valdis in one of our targeted alleyways. But… he’s not himself.”

Kana’s fingers stilled against the armrest.

“Not himself how?” she asked.

“He’s moving like he’s half-asleep,” Suri said. “Is he drunk?”

Kana frowned.

“That’s certainly strange,” Leo said, leaning back with an expression caught somewhere between confusion and suspicion. “His father is quite rich. I assumed they’d be bidding aggressively—at least for one of the skill books.”

“So his father will probably beat him if he doesn’t get one, right?” Boris added bluntly.

Her mind had already latched onto the inconsistency and began pulling at it. Valdis. Noble background. Present at the auction. Yet outside—wandering alleyways like a ghost cut loose from its body.

That didn’t fit.

“Can you make Asha and Opel follow and ask him?” Kana asked.

Suri nodded once. “Already adjusting.”

There was a brief pause, then Suri’s expression tightened.

“And he’s saying the same thing,” she added.

Kana’s pulse ticked faster. “What is it?”

Suri tilted her head, listening to something only she could hear. Then she spoke again, this time mimicking the tone—flat, hollow, stripped of inflection.

“‘Here is your seat, sir.’”

The words landed heavily.

“He keeps repeating it,” Suri continued. “Over and over. Same cadence. Same phrasing. No variation.”

Boris let out a short laugh. “Is that guy finally going crazy?”

Kana didn’t smile.

Her gaze drifted—not to the exits, not to the alleys—but across the auction hall itself. Faces. Postures. Subtle movements. Whoever did it must be inside. 

Outside the auction house, Suri’s illusion scout shifted form. Feathers melted into fur. Wings folded inward, shrinking until a small, gray rat stood where the bird had been.

Asha and Opel stiffened as it appeared before them. It only meant one thing. Followed the rat.

The rat turned its head once—then ran.

They followed.

Kana exhaled slowly, her thoughts sharpening into a single, dangerous line. Somewhere in this auction house—quiet, patient, unseen—someone was pulling strings no one realized were there. If not, then perhaps Valdis became mad.

Post note:

Have a great weekend!
Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂