Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 395: Chapter 395 First Item Please Cast Your GT Votes for support!!! Thank you for reading!!!)

The estate courtyard was already bustling when they arrived. Carriages of all shapes and coats-of-arms lined the circular drive, and attendants in black uniforms moved swiftly to help nobles dismount, check their invitations, and direct them toward the grand entrance.

As Michael and Arianne approached, more than a few eyes turned their way. Conversations dipped and murmurs followed in their wake.

Everyone knew the Duke’s daughter.

And tonight, she’d arrived with someone unfamiliar—but no less striking.

Whispers stirred.

Who is he?

That’s Duke Evermoon’s daughter...

And the one beside her? Mic Nor? The one from the arena?

He’s the one who beat Uga, right?

Michael ignored them all.

Arianne, by contrast, wore her confidence like perfume—subtle but unmistakable. She nodded politely at a few acquaintances, offered a short smile here and there, but otherwise didn’t stop.

She didn’t need to.

The guards at the front entrance stepped aside immediately when they recognized her.

But before the two could step into the main auction hall, a servant in formal blue attire—his breast marked with the distinct insignia of House Evermoon—approached swiftly and bowed.

”Your Ladyship. Sir,” he said, straightening. ”You’re to follow me. A private room has been prepared on the Duke’s orders.”

Arianne arched a brow. ”Father’s not here?”

The servant shook his head. ”He was earlier. He’s presently in the company of one of his close friends. A separate chamber. He asked that you be shown to your room in the meantime. You’ll be called when he’s available.”

Michael said nothing.

Arianne didn’t seem bothered. She simply nodded. ”Lead the way.”

They followed the servant past the main hall. A few guests took notice—some with curiosity, others with veiled judgment. Not everyone got a private room at events like this. It was reserved for a very specific few.

Their room was located on the second floor, with a view overlooking the central auction chamber. It wasn’t a large space—just enough for four or five people—but it was elegant. Deep blue drapes, a small crystal table set with refreshments, and padded chairs arranged in a half-circle facing a wide viewing pane.

Once the servant bowed and left, closing the door quietly behind him, Arianne sighed and took a seat.

”Well, this is better than standing shoulder to shoulder with sweaty merchants,” she muttered.

Michael remained standing, his gaze sweeping the room once before settling on the viewing pane. Below, the seats were filling quickly. Nobles, traders, scholars, and even a few mercenary leaders had shown up. The air buzzed with anticipation.

Arianne reached for a glass of wine. ”Don’t worry. We can still go down if something catches your eye.”

”I’m fine here,” Michael replied, finally sitting down beside her. ”Besides, this view gives me a better sense of the room.”

Michael smiled faintly.

Down below, a chime echoed through the chamber, signaling the start of the auction.

A man in a fine burgundy coat stepped onto the central platform and raised a hand for silence.

”Ladies and gentlemen,” he said smoothly, voice carrying without strain, ”thank you for honoring us with your presence tonight. The Ninth Moon Auction welcomes you. Let us begin.”

The auctioneer gave a shallow bow, his polished shoes gleaming under the lamplight.

”Tonight,” he continued, ”we have a total of ten lots. Each carefully vetted and sourced.”

A ripple of amusement passed through the room, followed by the soft clink of glasses and rustling fabric as nobles leaned forward in interest.

”The tenth and final item,” he added, pausing just long enough to stoke anticipation, ”is a special listing. Even we only confirmed its arrival an hour ago.”

The murmur that followed was a bit louder this time.

From their room above, Michael turned to Arianne. ”Do you know what it is?”

She shook her head, lips pressed lightly together in thought. ”No. My father might know, but he didn’t mention anything.”

She leaned back, swirling her wine slowly in the glass. ”That’s not unusual, though. Auctions of this level always have a wildcard lot. Something to bait the curious, the ambitious... or the foolish.”

Below, the auctioneer clapped once. ”Let’s not delay further. First item of the evening!”

The auctioneer’s voice rang out crisply through the grand hall.

At his signal, a pair of elegantly dressed attendants entered from opposite sides of the platform. They were striking—tall, graceful women in form-fitting black-and-gold dresses that shimmered subtly under the lamplight.

Their steps were practiced, poised, and just seductive enough to stir murmurs in the crowd. Each pushed a small wheeled pedestal draped in crimson velvet, atop which rested a glass case glowing faintly from within.

Arianne arched a brow and let out a quiet hum of amusement. ”Ah. So they’re using the ’distract-with-beauty’ method tonight.”

Michael’s lips twitched.

As the women stepped aside, revealing the contents of the case, the auctioneer gestured toward it with a flourish.

”Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, ”our first item of the evening: a Fire Core, harvested from a peak Advanced-tier beast.”

That drew a few appreciative murmurs.

”A rare find,” the man continued, ”as not all magical beasts are capable of condensing a true core.”

”The core remains intact and radiating. It can be used in high-tier alchemy, artifact forging, or even absorbed for breakthroughs—though that last method carries certain... manageable risks.”

He let the silence stretch for effect.

”The starting price is 500 gold coins. Minimum increment: 20 gold.”

A moment passed.

Then the first paddle was raised.

”Five hundred twenty.”

Michael leaned back in his seat, unimpressed.

Arianne sipped her wine and gave a lazy wave of her fingers. ”It’s a good item,” she murmured, ”but not for us.”

Michael nodded.

He didn’t gain power like ordinary supernaturals did.

And even if he needed cultivation resources, he could buy them in Aurora.

The bids continued to climb.

As for the duke’s daughter?

A monster core shouldn’t be something she could lack.

”Five-sixty.”

”Six hundred.”

”Six-forty!”

Michael glanced down briefly. ”Let them fight over it.”

”Oh, they will,” Arianne said, smirking. ”It’s always the first item that draws the shallow sharks. They want to mark their presence.”

”And the truly valuable items?”

”They come later,” she said, setting down her glass. ”When the pretenders are worn thin.”