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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Silverriver
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Purchasing the Grand Tiger Elixir for a mere 500 gold had been a steal. An elixir that could grant a month of lifespan upon consumption.
Acquiring such a potent elixir at that price… I was quite lucky.
It should have sold for at least three times that amount. It seemed the nobles weren’t as interested in elixirs as I’d thought.
They were certainly eager to buy artwork, though.
I ignored the other items after that. There were a few things that caught my eye, but nothing I needed.
I needed to save my money for the elven slave. I had no idea how much she would cost.
‘I really don’t want to use this…’
I tapped my finger on the armrest, listening to the auctioneer’s introduction.
He was really emphasizing how difficult it had been to acquire this item. It must have been quite a challenge to capture.
He didn’t need to say it; the lecherous vultures here would throw their gold at the elf the moment they saw her.
The elf was brought onto the stage, accompanied by the auctioneer’s dramatic introduction.
She was truly beautiful.
A different kind of beauty from Agnes or Rebecca, a beauty without any specific attribute. If she wore a sorrowful expression, she would be the most pitiful being in the world. If she smiled, she would be the happiest.
That was the nature of elves, actors performing for the world. Their true faces, hidden behind their masks, were rarely revealed.
But the elf on stage was different. Empty eyes, lifeless skin, limbs that looked as if they might break at any moment.
This wasn’t an act. Elves didn’t sacrifice their very being for a performance.
Moreover, I noticed the wooden hairpin in her hair.
I knew what that hairpin was. I had to know.
The fifth heroine. Christina Rohenbelt.
The item she treasured most. A relic passed down from her elven mother.
A holy relic of the elves, crafted from a branch of the World Tree.
I had to save her. I didn’t care why she was here.
By any means necessary.
I gritted my teeth. My head throbbed. I had originally planned to have the protagonist’s party rescue her after they grew stronger, but…
My plans had been disrupted.
A wave of heat washed over me. I rarely felt anger, but this place… it enraged me.
“Deron…?”
A warm hand touched mine, like a splash of cold water on my burning head.
A soothing aura enveloped me, and the throbbing in my head subsided. I turned my head to see Rebecca looking at me with concern, her hand still clasped around mine.
Her hand shimmered with a golden light.
She channeled her divine power for a moment longer before releasing my hand.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“Look at yourself.”
I followed her gaze and examined my body.
My eyes widened.
I was drenched in sweat, yet my body was strangely cold. Violet Aura flickered around me, as if mana was leaking out.
Damn it.
This was why I suppressed my emotions so rigidly. Strong emotions, especially anger or sadness, directly affected my body.
If Rebecca hadn’t intervened, I might have lost control.
“Thank you, Saintess.”
“No, more importantly, are you sure you’re alright? Your body is ice-cold.”
Her expression was completely different from when she had first seen me. She was genuinely concerned, despite her previous hostility.
She had sensed my distress and immediately channeled her divine power.
Because she was the Saintess.
Someone who could completely separate personal feelings from her duty, who saw the sick only as patients in need of healing.
She would heal even those who intended to harm her.
I couldn’t do the same.
“Let me see…”
–5, guest number 5, bids 2,000 gold!
I chuckled and gently pushed her hand away. She stared at me, wide-eyed.
“I’m fine now.”
“No, really, are you sure? Your entire body is wracked with illness, and your lifespan is constantly decreasing…”
“Saintess.”
Rebecca clamped her hand over her mouth.
She had figured that much just from briefly channeling her divine power?
“I’m truly fine. I’ve endured this far, and I will continue to endure.”
“But…”
“Forget it. I am not dying.”
–2,500 gold! The bid is now 2,500 gold!
Damn it. While we were talking, the price of the slave continued to climb. It had already surpassed my limit.
I had no choice.
I raised the plaque with the number 7 and said,
“5,000 gold.”
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–5,000 gold from guest number 7!
“Oh?”
One of the most noble individuals in the Empire, wearing a golden lion mask.
“Your Highness, shall we continue bidding?”
“Hmm, just 1,000 more.”
Augustus Leonhart Regina. The Empire’s second Imperial Princess.
Her lavender hair shimmered as she slowly turned her gaze.
Towards number 7. Where Deron and the Saintess sat.
“Bern, those two are the eldest son of the Philasia family and the Saintess, aren’t they?”
“Your Highness, attempting to discern identities behind the masks is forbidden. Do you intend to break the unspoken rules of this auction?”
“Do those rules hold more weight than I do?”
Bern remained silent at Regina’s question.
Masks at the black market were a mere formality. Everyone knew each other’s identities, but they simply didn’t acknowledge them openly.
That was the purpose of the masks.
But the princess was different. She didn’t hesitate to reveal her identity, even while wearing a mask.
And she didn’t abide by the black market’s rules either.
Bern sighed softly and replied,
“Of course, they hold less weight than Your Highness.”
“Then must I abide by rules that are beneath me?”
“That’s what rules are for.”
Regina laughed at Bern’s serious expression.
“You’re too rigid. There’s no need to be so serious.”
“If Your Highness refrained from such actions, there would be no need for seriousness.”
“Oh, fine.”
Regina clicked her tongue and turned her attention back to the stage. The elf stared blankly ahead, her face bruised and battered.
Meanwhile, the price continued to climb. Bern kept bidding until the princess instructed him to stop.
–8,000 gold! Guest number 7 bids 8,000 gold!
Finally, when the bid reached 8,000 gold…
“Stop.”
Regina ceased bidding.
“Why, Your Highness? It’s a steep price, but we have the means to acquire her.”
“The other bidder doesn’t seem to have the same luxury.”
Number 7. Deron, the eldest son of the Philasia Dukedom.
A chilling aura emanated from him, even from behind his mask. He seemed displeased with the current situation.
“Indeed. Especially with his… lover.”
The blonde woman beside Deron. The Saintess, radiating an aura of divinity.
According to Regina’s information, the Saintess hate the enslavement of other races, viewing it as a despicable and degrading practice.
To Regina, they were a strange pair. Deron, rumored to be the disgrace of the nobility, a trashy individual involved in all sorts of shady dealings…
…was in a relationship with the Saintess, the epitome of virtue?
It was highly unlikely they were truly lovers. Then why were they pretending?
‘I can’t say for sure.’
Her deductions were based on evidence, and she currently had very little information about Deron.
The Duke of Philasia had kept his eldest son hidden away very effectively. Aside from the rumors about his illness, his single appearance in social circles, and the gossip that followed, there was practically no information about him.
She ran a hand through her hair, intrigued.
The auctioneer no longer called out number 12. Only number 7 was repeated, three times.
Deron had won the auction for the slave. How he intended to use the slave, and what his relationship with the Saintess truly was…
Regina’s interest was aroused.
The Masked Auction concluded with the sale of the elven slave. Everyone left the auction house, their masks still in place. As Deron made his way towards the exit…
Bern approached Regina.
“Your Highness, we should…”
“Bern, does Iliad Academy accept transfer students?”
Bern paused, considering Regina’s unexpected question, then replied,
“Um… they probably do. But the process is quite complicated. Since it’s a special admission, there are numerous procedures, and of course, they would require a demonstration of talent… Your Highness. Surely not?”
“What would be required for me to transfer to Iliad Academy?”
“Absolutely not. It’s out of the question.”
“Father is desperate to find me a suitable tutor. Wouldn’t it be better for me to enroll in the academy?”
“That may be so, but…”
“And while I’m there, I can also familiarize myself with the other students.”
A perfectly reasonable explanation. Bern glanced at the princess, then at the floor, scratching his head. Regina always had a logical reason for her decisions.
She left no room for argument. All Bern could do was…
“Yes, Your Highness.”
…agree to her wishes.
Regina smiled, satisfied. She glanced at her knight, then looked back towards where Deron, number 7, had been sitting.
He was gone.
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Ah yes, Princess “Queen”.