Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me

From the VIP lounge, a voice interjects with calm authority, ”One hundred and fifty thousand.” All eyes turn toward Lord Mesvin, a renowned collector known for his discerning taste.

Not to be outdone, Marquis Elowen, seated across, raises his paddle. ”One hundred and seventy-five thousand.”

The bids escalate rapidly.

”Two hundred thousand,” calls a viscount from the eastern territories.

”Two hundred and fifty thousand,” responds a duchess, her eyes gleaming with determination.

In the VVIP lounge, Ingra observes the fervor with a smirk. ”They’re like vultures over carrion,” she murmurs.

Pyke leans back, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

”Captain,” he murmurs, addressing Prince Asdri, ”if we were to sell the Obsidian Aegis back in Weldea continent, it would scarcely fetch a hundred thousand gold coins. Yet here in your home, the nobles clamor over it, driving the price to astronomical heights.”

Ingra nods, her eyes glinting with amusement. ”Indeed,” she adds, ”the scarcity of such artifacts in this continent inflates their value considerably. They perceive it as an unparalleled opportunity.”

Famir chuckles softly. ”Their fervor is our gain,” he remarks. ”The allure of the unknown and the exotic compels them to part with their fortunes.”

On the auction floor, the bidding war reaches its climax. Lord Mesvin, his face flushed with determination, raises his paddle once more. ”Four hundred and fifty thousand gold coins,” he declares, his voice echoing through the hall.

A collective gasp ripples through the audience. Marquis Elowen hesitates, his brow furrowed in contemplation. After a tense moment, he exhales sharply and lifts his paddle. ”Five hundred thousand gold coins,” he announces, his tone resolute.

Cedric’s eyes sweep the room, gauging for further bids. The hall falls into a hushed silence, the weight of the moment palpable. After a measured pause, Cedric raises his gavel.

”Five hundred thousand gold coins,” he reiterates. ”Going once... going twice...”

He pauses, allowing the anticipation to build. With no further bids forthcoming, Cedric brings the gavel down with a decisive thud.

”Sold to Marquis Elowen for five hundred thousand gold coins,” he announces.

A wave of applause cascades through the hall as the attendant carefully closes the ebony case containing the Obsidian Aegis. With deliberate steps, he delivers the prized artifact to its new owner.

As the Obsidian Aegis is delivered to Marquis Elowen, the auction continues with a series of exceptional items, each fetching impressive sums. A Tier 4 enchanted longsword garners three hundred thousand gold coins, while a set of rare alchemical elixirs commands two hundred and fifty thousand. The momentum persists, with each subsequent item achieving prices well into the hundreds of thousands.

In the VVIP lounge, Famir leans forward, his eyes wide with astonishment as he watches the bids escalate. He turns to Asdri, a broad grin spreading across his face.

”Captain,” Famir exclaims, his voice tinged with incredulity, ”we’re rich now. I can’t believe we’re amassing this much gold from these auctions.”

Pyke chuckles softly, his gaze fixed on the auction floor below. ”It’s remarkable, indeed,” he agrees. ”The demand here in the three kingdoms far surpasses that of Weldea. Our decision to bring these artifacts to this market has proven exceedingly profitable.”

Cedric Langston, ever the consummate auctioneer, steps forward with measured grace. His eyes, sharp and discerning, sweep over the assembled nobility and collectors. With a subtle nod to the attendants, he signals the unveiling of the night’s pièce de résistance.

”Esteemed guests,” Cedric begins, his voice resonant and commanding, ”we have now arrived at the moment you have all been awaiting. Presented by none other than His Highness, Prince Asdri, we are honored to showcase an artifact of unparalleled craftsmanship and power.”

Two attendants, clad in immaculate attire, approach the center stage with deliberate steps. Between them, they carry an elongated ebony case, its surface adorned with intricate silver filigree that seems to dance under the ambient light. The weight of the moment is tangible; conversations cease, and the room is enveloped in an almost reverent silence.

With a synchronized motion, the attendants place the case upon the velvet-draped podium and unlatch its ornate clasps. As the lid is gently lifted, the room collectively leans forward, breaths held in anticipation.

Nestled within the plush interior lies the Tier 5 sword, Eclipse. Its blade, forged from a rare unknown metal, exudes a subtle luminescence, shifting between hues of midnight blue and silver as it catches the light. The hilt, wrapped in dragonhide-like material, is crowned with a pommel shaped like a crescent moon, embedded with a sapphire that mirrors the night sky.

Cedric allows a moment for the audience to absorb the majesty of the weapon before continuing.

”Behold, ’Eclipse,’” he announces, his tone imbued with admiration. ”A Tier 5 sword, masterfully forged in the celestial forges. Legends speak of its blade being tempered in the heart of a fallen star, granting it unparalleled sharpness and resilience. The wielder of ’Eclipse’ is said to command the very shadows, making it a coveted artifact for warriors and collectors alike.”

A murmur of awe ripples through the hall, though none dare break the solemnity with idle chatter.

”In recognition of its rarity and the masterful artistry involved in its creation,” Cedric continues, ”bidding for ’Eclipse’ will commence at one million gold coins.”

A moment of stillness ensues, the weight of the sum settling over the attendees. Then, from the left side of the hall, a paddle is raised with deliberate intent.

”One million gold coins,” a voice declares, belonging to Duke Lukius, known for his formidable armory and discerning taste.

Almost immediately, a counteroffer emerges from the right.

”One million two hundred thousand,” bids Lady Rahni, her eyes gleaming with determination.

The atmosphere becomes charged as paddles are raised in rapid succession.

”One million five hundred thousand.”

”One million seven hundred thousand.”

”Two million,” interjects Lord Heires, his voice cutting through the escalating bids with finality.

A collective gasp resonates. Two million gold coins—a sum that underscores the unparalleled value of ”Eclipse.”

Cedric, maintaining his composure, scans the room for further bids. The attendees exchange glances, weighing the enormity of the amount.