Chapter 1357: Brightness

"This auction is invite only. Who are you and how did you find out about it."

The group glanced at each other as though trying to say, who the fuck was this?

As always, they left matters like this to Whisker, who stepped forward with a smile.

"Word spreads easily on the willess world."

"Not about this." The man’s eyes were cold. "I made sure only those invited hear about the auction. I make no mistakes." He narrowed his eyes.

Whisker shrugged. "I don’t know what to tell you other than the fact that we know, and we’re here."

"You weren’t invited. You can’t attend the auction."

Whisker lost his smile, and the tension between them thickened. He glanced at Atticus, suddenly having an idea.

"Then you dare deny the great rising star?" Whisker gestured toward Atticus with both hands, like one would for a king.

"The one who fought against and easily defeated multiple Redflame faction gods?"

Atticus almost visibly cringed but held his tongue. Beside him, Ozeroth had suddenly raised his chin high. He waited for Whisker to also announce and grace him with an introduction. But it never came.

The man, instead, was taken aback by what he’d just heard. He narrowed his eyes on Atticus, but he couldn’t recognize him.

’Is this the truth?’ He asked himself. The Redflame faction gods, even as low as Baron ranked, were never small. For any god to defeat them meant they were somewhat a big deal. Powerful, with an equally powerful will.

’Appraisal.’ The man used one of his family’s will arts, clutching a will stone under his robe. It was an art that enabled him to see the worth of things.

In this case, for people, he would be able to see a glimpse of their strength and potential.

The man’s eyes flashed a dirty gold, and froze. The will art allowed him to see power and potential through the intensity of the light they radiated.

Dim for weak, without the potential to go far. Bright for those with great potential. But what the man saw as he looked at the group made his heart seize.

First, Atticus’ light wasn’t dim, but it couldn’t be described as bright either. It was blinding. Boundless. Insane. He had never seen anything like it before.

What shocked him more was the fact that the child wasn’t the only one. Even the man with his chin raised high beside him carried that same blinding light.

’Who are they?’ The man cursed his busy schedule. He hadn’t caught up with the happenings around the middle plane.

’I should be careful.’ One of the worst things anyone could do was earn the ire of someone powerful, or with the potential to become powerful. Will was eternal. No matter how much time passed, a grudge could still be carried across generations.

’I can’t turn them away, just in case. I need to find out more information.’

As though a switch had flipped, the man’s countenance changed. A smile graced his lips, and Whisker could clearly see the shrewdness of the Aureline lingering in those dirty gold eyes.

"I apologize for my ignorance. It seems I’ve made a grave error."

"You sure have."

The man didn’t lose his smile. "My name is Niacin Aureline, and I am one of the overseers of the Gilded Debt. Unfortunately, I’m still going to require proof of your capacity before you’re allowed entry. You see, the seats are scarce, and it is important for our establishment that every single one counts."

Whisker scoffed, understanding what the man was after.

’He wants to know how deep our pockets are.’

He sent a mental message to Atticus, who showed no surprise. He too had understood.

’Five should do it,’ Whisker said.

Atticus still didn’t understand the monetary system in the middle planes. He knew there were different grades of will stones, but not their exact values.

He listened to Whisker and brought out five high grade will stones. The moment Niacin felt the sheer heat radiating from them, his eyes nearly popped.

’Were they really telling the truth?’ There was no doubt, these were Redflame will stones. There was only one way to get something of this quality, Redflame gods or worlds themselves. Had he really defeated multiple Redflame gods?

Niacin nodded with a smile. He waved over the attendant who had brought them there before turning toward the group.

"I welcome you all to the auction. May I have the privilege of learning your names?"

There was a brief silence before Whisker nodded to the others.

"You can call me Von."

"Atticus."

"The great Ozeroth."

"Kancilot."

Niacin’s eyes flashed as each name was spoken, as though burning them into memory.

"Escort our esteemed guests to the auction room."

"Yes, overseer."

Niacin flashed one more smile. "We’ll begin the auction after all the guests have arrived. I shall take my leave now."

Atticus’ gaze lingered on the departing overseer. Much had happened in that brief exchange. He had seen the man use an art on them. He had seen his mood shift instantly. And he had seen the glint in his eyes. A promise.

’He’s going to find out more about us,’ Atticus said telepathically to Whisker. It was a little art they had developed after acquiring the will stones.

It linked them all together, allowing silent communication. In a place where people from all over the plane gathered, never knowing who might be listening, it was godsent.

’Of course he is. And when he does, he’s going to find out exactly what I told him.’

Atticus didn’t respond. Many would have said Whisker made a mistake, announcing their identity like that. It could only breed trouble. But that wasn’t the case. All Whisker had done was hasten the inevitable.

Atticus’ exploits had already spread among the higher echelons of the middle planes. That he hadn’t been recognized immediately was the real concern.

Regardless, revealing their identity wouldn’t change anything. They were still Redflame’s public enemies number one.

’Why didn’t you introduce me?’ Ozeroth’s voice suddenly cut in, demanding.

’I only introduce greatness.’

Atticus winced. He didn’t have to look at Ozeroth to know his face had twisted. The words had hit like a dagger. Whisker had struck a chord, and knowing Ozeroth, there was no way he would let it slide.

Luckily, the woman addressed them before anything could happen.

"This way, esteemed guests."

The group was led through another door and into a dimly lit space.

Atticus found himself standing high above the ground, on a raised tier of seats. Below, at the center, was a solitary podium bathed in faint light.

"The auction will begin momentarily, esteemed guests. Please, make yourselves comfortable. This slave here will attend to your needs."

A figure stepped out from the corner, falling to her knees. She was clad in a maid uniform, clearly here to serve. As the woman bowed, she turned and left the space.

Atticus glanced around. The space was like a room of its own. Walls on each side, the front open to the podium. He could see trays of food and drink.

He approached the open space and looked across the hall. ’I can’t see them.’

The lowered podium was in the center of what Atticus guessed was a massive hall, surrounded by rooms like the one they were in. But despite looking directly at them, Atticus couldn’t pierce the black haze that cloaked them.

Even Omnicognition did nothing. He couldn’t see through it, or at least, not as quickly as he’d have liked.

"Ahh~ this is the life." Whisker plopped himself onto the couch, legs on the table like he owned the place.

"Be a darling and pour me a drink, okay?"

Atticus saw the maid rise from her kneeling position. She methodically poured Whisker a drink and handed it to him.

"Don’t."

Atticus’ firm voice stopped Ozeroth, who had been stomping toward Whisker.

"Bu—"

"You promised." Atticus walked toward him. "That you wouldn’t cause any trouble. Are you not a man of your word?"

"I’m not causing trouble. Just want to teach him a lesson."

"Considering where we are, that is exactly what causing trouble is."

He frowned, seeing Ozeroth still unsatisfied. He spoke telepathically.

’Look, when we get back to Eldoralth, you can do whatever you want. Well, except kill him. He can’t use his will, remember?’

Ozeroth’s eyes lit up, and he nodded quickly, moving to take a seat. He looked like a child promised ice cream. Impatient.

Atticus also sat, and the waiting began. The auction wouldn’t start until all the invited guests had arrived. Atticus couldn’t help but wonder why they kept such a tight lid on it. Were the items that valuable, or...

Atticus decided to ask Whisker, and as it turned out, his assumption was right.

"Because it’s illegal."

Atticus stared at Whisker, stunned by how casually he said it.

From his explanation, the Will Guard regulated important items found in the willess world. Anything of value was supposed to be reported to them for record.

Of course, the major factions disdained such rules and had an understanding between themselves. But the lesser factions were different. And the Will Guard wouldn’t hesitate to punish anyone breaking the laws.

"Politics," Atticus muttered.

"More like corruption," Whisker laughed.

The two fell silent, and soon enough, the dim lights of the podium lit up. A figure appeared, smiling wide.

"I welcome you all, esteemed ladies and gentlemen, to the Gilded Debt. I’m sure your great selves have important matters to attend to, so I won’t waste time. I will begin the auction."