Once we were inside the grand structure of the auction house, one of the uniformed servants approached us with a practiced, low bow. After a brief greeting, we were directed to the second floor, which housed the entrance to the primary auction hall. The interior of the hall was a grand space, shaped somewhat narrower than a perfect semicircle, with a raised stage at the center designed to showcase the products. The architectural focus was clearly intended to draw every eye in the room toward the central platform.

  The servant guided us to three reserved seats that were situated side by side, offering an excellent view of the stage. I took the middle seat, positioning myself between the girls, with Woya sitting to my left and Wyn to my right. At this hour, the hall was only about half-filled, and I felt a small sense of relief that we were able to secure a block of seats together. It allowed for a degree of privacy while still being part of the crowd.

  We spent the next thirty to sixty minutes in quiet anticipation. During this time, various servants moved through the rows with silent efficiency, inquiring if we required any refreshments or specialized catalogs for the day's offerings. As the scheduled start time approached, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The lights dimmed slightly, and the low hum of conversation was suddenly punctuated by a fast-playing, rhythmic drumroll—a thriller beat that signaled the commencement of the event. By now, the hall was nearly full, every seat occupied by merchants, artisans, and well-to-do residents of the outer city.

  “Tak… Tak… Tak…”

  A man dressed in an incredibly tight, formal black dress suit stepped onto the stage. He moved with slow, firm, and highly deliberate steps. Each stride produced a sharp, echoing noise against the floorboards, a result of his specialized high heels. It was clearly a theatrical choice, an intentional auditory cue designed to seize the attention of every soul in the room. Just as he intended, the murmurs among the crowd died away almost instantly. Every face turned toward the stage, focusing on the figure standing before the heavy crimson curtains.

  “... Welcome to our humble auction, esteemed guests,” the man began, his voice projecting clearly to the back of the hall. “We have prepared a variety of exceptional goods to satisfy your diverse needs in this week’s auction, following our tradition of excellence.”

  The man stopped at the exact center of the stage. He placed his right hand gracefully over the left side of his chest, directly over his heart, and performed a slow, deep bow. When he straightened his back, the last remaining whispers in the room ceased to exist. There was a disciplined silence that felt oddly comfortable; it was like being in a gathering of highly educated individuals who understood the gravity of the proceedings.

  “I do not wish to occupy your time with idle conversation,” the announcer continued, his tone shifting to one of professional excitement. “Let us introduce our first product immediately. We wanted to open today’s auction with an item of true distinction. Presenting... a full set of plate steel armor.”

  As he spoke, a well-dressed woman, mirrored in style to the announcer, pushed a handcart onto the stage. She stopped the cart next to him. The announcer gestured toward the cart with a flourish, his hands moving as if he were presenting a great mystery to build suspense. With a swift movement, the woman pulled back the velvet cover, revealing the gleaming components of the set: the breastplate, leggings, gauntlets, and a full-face helmet.

  “This set was crafted by a renowned master craftsman within this city,” the speaker said with rising enthusiasm. “As you can observe from the intricate engravings and the seamless joints, it bears the unmistakable touch of an artisan. However, the most eye-catching feature of this armor is not its beauty, but its composition. It was designed to be used as a complete set, and more importantly, it has been reinforced with orichalcum at the most crucial structural points.”

  The whole set looked truly fascinating. The way the light caught the metal suggested a durability far beyond standard steel. Knowing that even a small amount of orichalcum had been used in the forging process meant this was a high-quality product of significant value. I felt the familiar urge of curiosity and used the ‘Identify’ skill to peek behind the curtain of the physical appearance.

  ***

  Bastion Helmet○

  Bastion Armor○○○

  Bastion Gloves○○

  Bastion Footwear○○

  ***

  The identification confirmed it; these were forged from a Bastion alloy. Bastion is a specialized metal created by meticulously mixing steel with orichalcum. While a suit made entirely of pure orichalcum would cost a staggering fortune—likely weighing nearly half of the product's value in platinum coins—this alloyed method provides a practical middle ground. The smiths concentrate the orichalcum in the areas most prone to heavy impact, significantly increasing the protection without the astronomical cost of pure materials.

  My own sword is a Bastion blade, which I purchased at a similar auction for 5 platinum coins. Looking at my current liquid budget, I knew this would be a difficult acquisition. If I were to convert all of my current holdings into gold… I have approximately 944 gold coins to my name. It was a substantial sum for a commoner, but perhaps not enough for a masterwork suit of enchanted alloy. Still, I decided I wouldn't let it go without a fight.

  “Alright, dear guests,” the announcer shouted, “the starting bid for this exceptional set is 200 gold coins. The floor is now open!”

  “220 gold coins!” a pot-bellied man in a stylish, expensive-looking tunic shouted immediately from the front row. I couldn't tell if he was a warrior himself or if he was purchasing it for a son or a high-priced bodyguard, but it didn't really matter to me.

  “250!” “275!” “300!” “350!” “400!” “420!” “450!” “500!”

  The item had clearly captured the interest of the room. The bids began to climb with a frantic energy, voices overlapping as the price soared past the initial valuation.

  “510!” “550!” “570!” “590!” “610!” “650!” “675!” “700!”

  The increments shifted, growing in large jumps before narrowing down to smaller competitive bids. Finally, the price reached the equivalent of 7 platinum coins. This was nearing the limit of my comfortable budget, but I had been waiting for this moment. I hadn't placed a single bid yet, wanting the other participants to believe I wasn't interested in the "low-level" bickering.

  “710 gold coins!” I shouted. I injected as much emphasis as possible into my voice, making it sound loud and deep.

  The effect was instantaneous. Several of the other bidders stopped and turned their heads toward me. I could feel my Charisma stat at work. In this world, Charisma isn't just about how attractive you are; it plays a critical role in all social interactions. Whether you are trying to influence, threaten, or simply make an opponent hesitate, the higher your Charisma, the more weight your actions carry. My sudden, confident bid had clearly rattled some of the less committed buyers.

  I glanced to my sides and noticed Wyn and Woya looking at me with wide, dumbfounded eyes. Their jaws were practically on the floor. I offered them a kind, knowing smile, confirming that I had noticed their surprise, before turning my focus back to the stage.

  “720!” “730!” “750!”

  My tactical interference had been successful. Only three serious bidders remained in the running; the others were now watching me warily, perhaps wondering just how deep my pockets really were.

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  “800 gold coins!” I bid again, not missing a beat.

  “... 820!” “840!”

  The remaining two were clearly hesitating now. Their voices were less certain, and they waited a few heartbeats longer before speaking up.

  “900 gold coins!” I said, drastically increasing the bid once more.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girls' shock deepening with every thousand-gold threshold I approached. This was my final psychological push. If they increased the bid again, I could only realistically go up by another ten or twenty coins, but a small increase like that wouldn't have the same crushing impact as a hundred-gold jump. If I were pushed past 950, I would be forced to withdraw to avoid total bankruptcy. There was even the lingering fear that someone might "troll" me—bidding just to drive the price up so I’d overpay.

  “950!” a voice rang out from the opposite side of the hall.

  I leaned back in my seat, a quiet sigh escaping me. It seemed the Bastion set was not destined to be mine today. 950 was the hard limit of my current liquid assets.

  “Master… you really are rich,” Woya whispered from my left, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

  “What are you talking about?” I replied with a small, lamenting chuckle. “I don’t even have a full 1,000 gold coins.”

  “... Not even 1,000 gold coins?” Wyn murmured, her voice trailing off as she drifted into deep thought.

  Woya looked perplexed by my statement, but Wyn seemed to be doing some mental math. I had no way of knowing for certain, but she was likely comparing her own perceived value to the numbers I was throwing around. She and Woya had been sold by the slave merchant for a combined total of 120 gold coins. Now, she was hearing her master talk about 1,000 gold as if it were a modest sum, while realizing he had already spent over 200 gold on their purchase price and their high-end gear. It must have made her realize just how vast the world was compared to the small village life she had known.

  “... Sold! This precious set of equipment goes to the gentleman for 950 Hazaroth gold coins!” the auctioneer shouted, slamming his gavel.

  The auctioneer didn't explicitly specify the currency, but since we were in the Hazaroth Union, the Hazaroth gold coin was the standard. While foreign currencies like the Targonia coins (which are less valuable) or the Ottovard Empire coins (which are roughly equal) are accepted, there is usually an exchange fee. Of course, Obscura is the universal currency of the world. Its value is always equal to or higher than any national coin, and most merchants are more than content to receive it in place of standard gold.

  After that first high-profile item was sold, the auction settled into a steady rhythm. Various items came and went—jewelry, rare ingredients, and minor magical artifacts. I didn't find many of them particularly interesting. One or two caught my eye, but the prices were inflated beyond what I felt was reasonable, and I didn't want to deplete my remaining funds on a whim.

  I was beginning to think the day was just going to be a good educational experience for the girls and nothing more, when the final portion of the auction began. Several figures were brought onto the stage at once, positioned for everyone to see before being introduced individually.

  “Thank you for your patience in accompanying us until the final event of today’s auction,” the announcer said, his voice taking on a more business-like tone. “A local slave merchant recently found himself in a difficult financial position, and as a result, we will be selling his inventory today. Our first offering is a former soldier, a middle-aged human male...”

  As the introductions began, I turned my attention to the stage. Since any slave I purchased would be living in our house and working alongside us, I made sure to ask the girls for their opinions on every candidate. I had absolutely no intention of buying a male slave who might lust after Woya and Wyn; I have zero tolerance for that kind of domestic drama.

  Wyn’s evaluation was purely tactical. She focused on their combat potential and their apparent discipline. Woya, conversely, spoke about their temperament. She looked for signs of whether they could be integrated into our household harmoniously or if they would be a source of conflict.

  Most of the offerings were male. The few females brought up were either far too savage for Woya’s liking or appeared to have no combat aptitude at all, which meant Wyn found no logic in purchasing them. As we discussed the candidates, I noticed a subtle tension in the girls that they tried to hide. I was well aware that they knew I was looking for another female, and they likely anticipated that I would be intimate with her as well.

  In the last few days, we have become quite close. Woya and Wyn are no longer the frightened, silent slaves I first purchased. They are eager to spend time with me, and I’ve even sensed a slight possessive streak beginning to form. However, they are also incredibly disciplined; they know their place and would never openly question my motives or my desires. Perhaps it’s a trait of being wolfkin, but I couldn't be sure.

  The slave auction continued until only two or three remained. The auctioneer stepped forward to introduce the next individual: a female catkin.

  “This one is named Nari,” the announcer said. “She is an excellent catkin warrior and a holder of the Beast Warrior job. She is only nineteen years old and, as you can see, she is a true beauty. I should also mention... she is a virgin, which adds to her value. To prove her martial prowess, we have prepared a short demonstration.”

  As the introduction finished, the staff moved Nari into a large iron cage and handed her a simple bronze sword. They then unleashed three black wolves—creatures I estimated to be around level 3 or 4—into the cage with her.

  The girl didn't flinch. She immediately dropped into a low fighting stance. The wolves began to circle her, their hackles raised in a wary growl. Nari didn't wait for them to coordinate. She rushed toward the wolf on her right. As the beast lunged for her throat, she stepped lightly to the side and delivered a clean, horizontal slash while the wolf was still in mid-air. It hit the ground dead. The other two wolves hesitated, their instincts telling them to flee, but Nari gave them no such chance. She moved through the remaining beasts with a terrifying efficiency, subduing them in seconds.

  Once the wolves were dead, the staff opened the cage. Nari stepped out, looking completely unbothered by the violence. She didn't show any signs of shock or injury. She simply walked around the stage with an innocent, almost playful smile on her face.

  “As you have seen, she is exceptionally gifted in combat,” the announcer shouted. “A rare gem for any collection. The starting bid is 20 gold coins. Let the bidding begin!”

  “25 gold!” “26!” “27!” “28!” “30!”

  The bids started to fly from the crowd. I turned to look at my companions. “What do you think?”

  “The beasts she faced were not particularly strong, but her movements were very efficient, master,” Wyn said. “She would make an excellent damage dealer for our front lines. She doesn't appear to be a bad person, so I have no negative opinion of her.”

  Wyn had been very difficult to please with the previous candidates, so the fact that she was content with Nari was a good sign.

  “I agree, master,” Woya said, her expression quite serious. “She looks innocent. I suspect she might have been forced to hunt in the wild alone to survive. I didn't sense any true malicious intent from her, even when she was killing the wolves.”

  I wasn't sure how Woya had inferred so much from such a brief observation, but I’ve learned to trust the instincts of these wolfkin girls implicitly.

  “Hmm, alright. If the price stays within reason, I’ll try to get her,” I said.

  “41!” “42!” “45!”

  I noticed that only three other bidders were still active as I turned my focus back to the stage.

  “50 gold coins!” I said, once again utilizing my imposing demeanor. It hadn't won me the armor, but I had more than enough to cover this purchase.

  “... 55!” one of the other men shouted.

  “60 gold coins!” I replied instantly.

  A sudden silence fell over the hall. My immediate counter-bid had clearly signaled that I wasn't going to let her go easily.

  “... Is there no further bidding? Going once... going twice... sold!” the auctioneer shouted, drawing out the words as long as possible to see if anyone would jump in. “Sold for 60 gold coins! Congratulations to the gentleman in the center!”

  “Congratulations, master,” both Woya and Wyn said, bowing their heads toward me.

  They were as obedient as ever, but I knew I would need to manage the integration of a new member carefully. Regardless of what kind of person Nari turned out to be, I intended to treat her well.

  “She will be your junior from now on,” I told them, “so I want you to make sure you guide her well. I’ll leave the initial explanation of our household rules to the two of you. However, since we have somewhere important to go tomorrow, I’m planning on finalizing her purchase and picking her up the day after that.”

  “Tomorrow? Where are we going, master?” Woya asked, her ears perking up in curiosity. Wyn also looked at me, waiting for the answer.

  “It’s a surprise,” I said, a small smile crossing my face at Woya’s immediate excitement. “But we aren't going to the dungeon tomorrow. That is all you need to know for now.”

  “Okay, master!” Woya said cheerfully.

  We stood up to leave, the day’s work finally concluded.

  [Edited]

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  Heroes:

  Aymeric Petiaux

  Koreyn