Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.
Thank you.
Everyone from Otaku Translation
Chapter 47: The Climactic High Note
When Chael saw the card, he smiled faintly and said, "My lord, this is a rare wind-type card. Among the six types of Fate Cards, wind cards are the least common. Their spells are flexible and versatile, excelling in defense and counterattacks. They’re difficult to master but incredibly powerful when wielded."
"You might as well just tell me how to use it," Brandon replied with an exasperated roll of his eyes.
Chael chuckled. "What this card means, my lord, is that when you play it—aside from paying one unit of wind element from the Elemental Pool—you must also expend mana from your own pool. Each point of mana summons one Wind Spirit Spider at Level Five."
Brandon froze. With 2.9 units of willpower and 15 points of mana, couldn’t he summon fifteen Level-Five Wind Spirit Spiders in one go?
But Chael wasn’t finished. "And when those spiders die, they create mana vortices. Each vortex drains one point of mana from your opponent’s pool."
Brandon sucked in a breath. These weren’t just spiders—they were veritable mana bombs. He imagined what it would be like if he had hundreds of mana points later. Wouldn’t he be able to summon an army of spiders? And if luck favored him, obtaining the fabled magic energy source orb could grant him a terrifying legion of mana-burning minions at any time.
He smacked his lips thoughtfully. At first, he’d thought the card was useless, but now it was clear—it wasn’t just useful; it was a devastating weapon.
Before he could fully process his excitement, Barthom clapped his hands and exclaimed, "Finally, the real show begins!"
Brandon looked up and noticed the gleaming dwarven sword already placed on the stage below. The faint green glow emanating from its surface hinted at its attributes. Clearly, the auctioneers were treating this as one of the final, high-profile items. The auctioneer picked up the sword and declared, "This is a finely crafted dwarven blade—a work of art in its own right, valuable beyond measure. But that’s not all. An exceptional alchemist has transformed it into a formidable magical sword—"
"Magical sword," he repeated.
The auction hall fell silent for a moment.
While minor enchanted or pseudo-magical items were often referred to as alchemical artifacts, only truly powerful swords earned the title of "magical sword." By using this term, the auctioneer confirmed the sword’s extraordinary nature.
No adventurer, mercenary, or knight could resist the allure of a fine weapon. Thus, everyone held their breath.
To demonstrate, the auctioneer swung the sword backward, striking the iron anvil behind him. Sparks flew, and a sharp hiss echoed through the hall. When the blade withdrew, a deep gash marred the metal’s surface, accompanied by unmistakable signs of corrosion.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, and even the private boxes above fell silent.
The auctioneer set the sword down and clapped his hands. "This sword is called Heart of the Tree. The starting bid is twenty-five thousand torr, with each subsequent bid requiring at least a five percent increase over the base price."
"The bidding begins—"
Antietta frowned at the price. "Isn’t that a bit steep?" As a noblewoman, she didn’t fully grasp what such a weapon meant to those who risked their lives daily.
"Not at all," Barthom interjected firmly. "Had I not known this was Sir Brandon’s creation, I might have bid on it myself. Most adventurers and mercenaries here have some savings, and a magical sword? They won’t pass up this opportunity unless they don’t use swords."
As if to echo his words, the first paddle went up almost immediately.
Bids followed in rapid succession, no prompting needed from the auctioneer. The competition for the sword quickly escalated into a frenzy.
The price climbed dizzyingly to sixty thousand torr, leaving only four or five bidders still in the running.
Lorne recognized one of them. "That’s an agent for the vice-commander of the Silver Wing Cavalry," he whispered to Brandon.
Brandon mused that it would’ve been better if the commander himself had joined the bidding. After all, he’d eventually have to eliminate that Ouroboros Society lackey anyway, making it convenient to reclaim the sword.
By the time he finished this thought, the price had soared to seventy thousand torr. Two more bidders dropped out, leaving the vice-commander of the Silver Wing Cavalry and two nobles from the first-tier boxes.
The vice-commander raised the bid to seventy-five thousand torr, forcing out another competitor. But his remaining opponent showed no signs of backing down. After a brief silence, the auctioneer’s assistant announced the new bid.
"Ninety thousand torr."
The audience froze, as if encased in ice. People turned to look at the box where the mysterious bidder sat. Even Lorne speculated whether it might be an agent for Earl Nakin.
"If it’s that old fox Nakin, this has turned into a clash of egos between the White Mane Legion and local nobles. Brandon, this is good news," Lorne winked, smiling faintly.
But just then, a voice rang out from the crowd below.
"One hundred thousand."
Brandon’s group turned in unison. Barthom’s face paled when he saw the bidder. Before Lorne could speak, Barthom blurted, "Sir Brandon, that’s someone from Viscount Teste’s faction."
"What’s he doing down there?" Brandon asked.
"Who knows?" the red-bearded mercenary shrugged.
Brandon didn’t mind if the weapon fell into the hands of a potential enemy. While Barthom and others saw it as a rare treasure, Brandon remained indifferent. In the free port of Ampersal, such transactions happened daily. Braggs was simply too remote.
The vice-commander of the Silver Wing Cavalry hesitated before raising the bid one last time. But ultimately, Viscount Teste’s agent outbid him at one hundred ten thousand torr.
The nobles in the first-tier boxes countered again, driving the price up to one hundred thirty thousand torr.
"It doesn’t seem to be Earl Nakin’s agent," Antietta observed.
Brandon nodded, feeling a slight relief. His target price had been between one hundred and one hundred fifty thousand torr. At this point, the result was satisfactory. Even after deducting fees, he’d net nearly one hundred sixty thousand torr—more than enough for his next steps.
But fate seemed intent on surprising him that day. Just as Viscount Teste began to waver, a new contender entered the fray.
Their opening bid was one hundred fifty-five thousand torr. Even the auctioneer paused, lowering his gavel to gaze in astonishment at the third-tier box. Who could this mysterious figure be?
Brandon turned to ask Lorne, but even the seasoned broker couldn’t make sense of it.
The noble in the first-tier box hesitated, finally offering one hundred sixty thousand torr. But the mysterious figure countered instantly, raising the price to one hundred seventy thousand.
Brandon, Antietta, Barthom, Chael, and Lorne exchanged glances. Even a magical sword shouldn’t command such a price.
Silence reigned—not just among the bidders but throughout the entire audience.
The auctioneer, regaining his composure, tremulously raised his gavel. Three strikes later, the tense spectacle concluded amidst lingering bewilderment.
What had just happened?
"One hundred seventy thousand?" Barthom slapped Lorne’s cheek lightly. "Have you ever seen so much money, cripple?"
Even Lorne, known for his worldly experience, felt a surreal disconnect. Though he’d witnessed high bids in the hundreds of thousands before, those sums had never concerned him personally. This time, however, the money bore some connection to him.
That tenuous link was enough to leave the cunning Black Pepper Alley loan shark tongue-tied. After decades in the usury business, his total savings barely amounted to tens of thousands of torr.
Antietta gripped her dress tightly, striving to conceal her shock. Her awkward attempt amused Chael, who struggled to suppress a grin.
Meanwhile, Brandon glanced at little Roma, who appeared utterly delighted. She happily scribbled in a small notebook, saying, "Brandon, we’ve got capital now!"
Brandon smiled faintly.
It seemed the auctioneers intended to end the event with a thrilling finale. No sooner had Brandon’s Heart of the Tree been removed than the next item caused the entire hall to hold its breath.
"An Ember."
"Good heavens, an Ember!"
"Someone’s auctioning an Ember!" Gasps erupted across the packed hall.
Brandon turned to Chael. "This is the true climax of the auction. Pity our Heart of the Tree couldn’t be the finale."
Chael nodded.
But Brandon’s tone suggested his regret wasn’t about the sword itself. He continued, "Every Ember in Eruin is produced by the Temple of Flames. For the Havriel Faith to openly sell one like this signals a desperate need for funds. Everyone knows the Havriel Faith leans toward the royal family. What move could the crown be planning that requires such drastic measures?"
Chael pondered. "Could it be related to the war?"
Brandon considered this but found no relevant records in his memory. He shrugged noncommittally, then looked around, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.
Tension thickened in the air. Noticing the change, Brandon couldn’t help but wonder—some people must have been tipped off and prepared in advance.
"Should we participate?" Antietta asked from behind.
Brandon thought for a moment. Deciding against joining this game of big fish eating small ones, he shook his head. With his newly acquired two hundred thousand torr, he wouldn’t stand a chance in this competition.
Just as he was about to speak, the lights dimmed again.
"What are they up to now?" Barthom muttered irritably.
But Brandon and Lorne had already noticed the auctioneer’s expression darken.
Something was wrong.
Both the young man and the seasoned black-market dealer reached for the nearest weapon—and without warning, the torches lining the walls extinguished simultaneously, plunging the room into darkness.
If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.
How to find a list of chapters
Please find the chapter label next to your favorite translator's name, and click the label.
