Chapter 12 The Auction

The auction progressed rapidly. High-grade spiritual swords, spatial storage pouches, and rare defensive talismans were sold off one by one, each fetching thousands of spirit stones.

Finally, the beautiful auctioneer clapped her hands, and the lights inside the grand hall dimmed to a soft, cosmic purple.

"And now, esteemed guests, the highlight of our evening," her voice dropped into a dramatic, thrilling register. "Brought directly from the core of a dying star in the Western Nebula. A thousand-year-old Stellar Core Lotus."

The central pedestal rose once more, sealed beneath a thick, transparent crystal dome. Inside, a magnificent, seven-petaled lotus floated in mid-air. It wasn't organic; it looked as if it were carved from pure, liquid starlight. The moment it appeared, a dense, intoxicating wave of cosmic life-energy leaked through the sealing arrays, filling the entire hall.

Thump!

Inside Logan’s chest, his mortal heart pounded violently. The sheer proximity to the starlight energy caused his thin, fragile meridians to throb with an intense, burning ache. A drop of cold sweat rolled down his temple. His soul recognized the medicine instantly—this lotus contained the exact dense, stabilizing stellar energy required to reinforce his fragile physical organs and permanently cure his body's weakness.

"The starting bid for the Stellar Core Lotus," the auctioneer smiled, her voice cutting through the sudden, greedy silence of the crowd. "Is ten thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones! Each increase must be no less than one thousand!"

The hall went silent for a brief second before the rich regional powerhouses erupted.

"Eleven thousand!" a wealthy merchant from the southern city shouted.

"Thirteen thousand!" an old sect master countered.

"Fifteen thousand!"

Within less than two minutes, the price soared straight to twenty-five thousand spirit stones, knocking out all the minor factions on the lower floor. The bidding was now strictly a war between the private VIP balconies.

From a lavish balcony directly opposite Logan’s suite, a loud, incredibly arrogant laugh echoed through the hall. The crystal screen dropped, revealing a young man draped in golden silk, surrounded by four beautiful female servants who were feeding him spiritual grapes. This was Young Master Damian of the Supreme Sun Sect—the largest cultivation faction in the entire region.

"Thirty thousand!" Damian shouted casually, flashing a heavy gold spatial ring on his thumb. He looked around the hall with deep, unadulterated disdain. "This lotus belongs to the Supreme Sun Sect! Any regional trash who thinks they can compete with my family's wealth is welcome to try!"

The surrounding balconies fell silent. No one wanted to offend the Supreme Sun Sect, and very few families could afford to throw away thirty thousand mid-grade stones for a single body-tempering herb.

The auctioneer raised her wooden gavel. "Thirty thousand spirit stones, going once... going twice..."

Logan didn't even look up from his tea. He simply gave Vance a sharp, icy glance.

Vance swallowed his terror, stood up, and slammed his hand against the balcony broadcast array.

"Forty thousand!" Vance’s aristocratic Capital voice boomed through the hall, dripping with twice the arrogance of the young master. "The Imperial Court has taken an interest in this weed. Sit back down, regional peasant."

The entire auction hall gasped. Forty thousand stones?! And calling the young master of the largest local sect a peasant?

Young Master Damian’s face instantly contorted from smug satisfaction to pure, explosive rage. He slammed his silver cup onto the floor, his Early Silver-Bone Qi flaring out wildly. He glared directly at Vance’s balcony. "Who dares?! What kind of government dog thinks they can flex their authority over the Supreme Sun Sect?! Forty-five thousand!"

"Fifty thousand," Vance responded instantly, his voice steady on the outside, though his knees were shaking so hard beneath his silk robes that he was practically vibrating.

"Fifty-five thousand!" Damian roared, his veins popping on his forehead.

"Sixty thousand," Vance countered smoothly, completely relying on Logan’s calm, unshakeable presence behind him.

Damian stood up, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. Sixty thousand mid-grade spirit stones was the absolute maximum budget his father had given him for the entire year. If he went any higher, he would face severe punishment at home.

"You... you Capital bastards think you own everything!" Damian hissed, his eyes full of murderous intent as he looked at Vance. "Fine! Take it! But remember, Blackstone Town is within the jurisdiction of the Supreme Sun Sect! Let's see if your Imperial bones are hard enough to carry that lotus out of this city alive!"

Bang!

The auctioneer slammed her gavel down with excitement. "Sold! For sixty thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones, to the VIP Suite of the Imperial Court!"

Inside the balcony, Lord Vance instantly collapsed back into his chair, his face completely pale as he let out a long, ragged breath. "We... we won. But Young Master Vanguard, we are dead. The moment the guild brings the invoice... the illusion will break."

Logan stood up from his chair, his slouch entirely gone as his golden primordial qi stabilized his chest. He slung his leather sack over his shoulder and gave a cold, terrifyingly sharp smile.

"The illusion won't break, Vance," Logan murmured, walking toward the balcony doors as the guild attendants approached with the secured crystal box containing the lotus. "Because we aren't going to wait for them to process the paperwork. Pick up your silver sword fragments. It's time to show this cosmic guild how a War God conducts a trade."

The heavy mahogany doors of the VIP suite clicked open. Two senior attendants from the Void Merchant Guild stepped inside, their silver-woven robes rustling softly against the plush carpet. Between them, hovering on a floating anti-gravity tray, was the sealed crystal dome containing the seven-petaled Stellar Core Lotus. The dense, liquid starlight inside pulsed lazily, casting a hypnotic purple glow across the room.

The lead attendant, a sharp-eyed cultivator at the Early Qi Foundation Realm, offered a flawless, calculated bow to Lord Vance. "Esteemed Imperial Inspector, we have brought the star of our evening. The final total is sixty thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones. If you could please present your Imperial Asset Ledger or sign the high-tier spiritual blood-vow note, the lotus is yours to take."

Lord Vance didn't move. He sat in his chair like a rigid marble statue, his skin so pale he looked three days dead. His hands were tucked deep inside his wide midnight-blue silk sleeves to prevent the attendants from seeing that his fingers were shaking like dry leaves in a storm.

He didn't speak because he knew the moment he opened his mouth, his voice would hit a high-pitched octave of pure, unadulterated panic.

"The Inspector does not sign blood-vows for regional trinkets," Logan’s voice broke the silence, smooth, cold, and entirely devoid of emotion.

The two attendants shifted their gazes to Logan, their eyebrows rising slightly as they noticed his simple, unadorned white peasant robes. "And who might you be, young man? This is a transaction of the highest imperial order. Servants are not permitted to speak."

"I am the owner of that lotus," Logan said.

Before the Qi Foundation attendant could even register the absolute audacity of the statement, Logan took a single, explosive step forward. His footwork was so fluid it defied the laws of physics—the Ghost-Shadow Step blurred his physical form entirely.

Smash!

Logan’s right hand shot out like a striking viper. He didn't use a weapon; his bare fingers were coated in a dense, blinding layer of golden primordial qi. With a casual flick of his wrist, he shattered the thick, multi-layered defensive spiritual array protecting the crystal dome. The heavy glass didn't just crack; it violently disintegrated into a cloud of glittering sand.

"Bold thief!" the lead attendant roared, his Qi Foundation energy erupting instantly as a brilliant silver defensive aura coated his skin. He raised his palm, intending to blast Logan’s chest into a bloody pulp.

But Logan was faster. Much faster.

Ignoring the attendant’s incoming attack entirely, Logan grabbed the liquid-starlight lotus right off the silk cushion. He didn't put it in a spatial pouch. He didn't wrap it in protective cloth.

He shoved the entire thousand-year-old cosmic herb directly into his mouth and swallowed it raw.

Gulp.

"He... he ate it!" Mei shrieked from behind the sofa, her hands clutching her face. "Logan! That’s not how you take medicine! You're going to choke!"

The lead attendant’s palm strike connected directly with Logan’s shoulder.

BANG!