Evolving My Undead Legion In A Game-Like World

Chapter 397: Chapter 397 Bid For The ElfThe auctioneer raised both hands, gesturing for silence.

”Let me remind you,” he said smoothly, ”that dark elves are a mythical race rarely seen in the kingdoms of men.”

He turned slightly, allowing the light to catch the silver hair of the girl in the cage. She didn’t flinch or blink, merely stared at the crowd with cool, dispassionate eyes.

”They are born attuned to the shadow. Their bodies are lean, but their strength is deceptive—muscle density, bone structure, reflexes, and nerve response all outclass even trained humans. From birth, they are simply more.”

A pause.

”This one,” he said, ”has been measured at the peak of the Advanced Stage in terms of energy and physical readings. But let me be very clear. That only applies when using human standards.”

Michael’s eyes sharpened.

”Dark elves, even at the same ’level,’ are naturally superior. Their bodies age slower. Their minds process faster. Their mana flow is cleaner, more instinctive. This girl before you may be listed as ’Advanced Stage’—but in practical combat, she has already overwhelmed two advanced-tier knights during her attempted assassination.”

The room stirred again. A few nobles leaned forward, eyes narrowing with greed, interest, or concern.

”And yes,” the auctioneer added, his tone dropping lower, ”her presence here is no accident. She was captured after a failed assassination attempt on a noble lord.”

”Why wasn’t she executed?” a voice called from the floor.

The auctioneer smiled faintly. ”Because the noble saw an opportunity. Rather than kill her, he wanted to make a profit.”

Michael sat silently, arms folded, his gaze fixed on the girl in the cage.

The assassin had failed—and now she was being sold to the highest bidder. He didn’t agree with it, but he also understood the logic behind it. Power had its rules. Consequences followed action.

Even so... seeing another race, one he’d only read about, brought a flare of curiosity. And something deeper.

Possibility.

This world just got a little bigger.

He turned to Arianne beside him. ”Is this your first time seeing one?”

The duke’s daughter didn’t answer right away. Her expression had relaxed; she no longer frowned.

”It’s not,” she said, voice quieter now.

Michael’s brows lifted slightly.

Arianne met his gaze, swirling the wine in her glass. ”I saw a sea folk once, three years ago. My father hosted a delegation from the coastal duchies, and one of them had a bodyguard who wasn’t entirely human. Gills on the neck. Fins down the arms. Very... graceful.”

Michael absorbed that. ”So races like this aren’t myths.”

”They’re just rare,” she replied. ”And most of them live far beyond the reaches of the Empire. We only ever see them under very specific—and usually political—circumstances.”

She gestured lightly to the cage below. ”This? This is unusual, but not unheard of. Slavery is frowned upon in the central provinces, but the outer lords... let’s just say their ethics are more fluid.”

Michael nodded slowly. ”So you’re not bothered?”

Arianne shrugged delicately. ”She tried to assassinate a noble, Sir Mic. Whether I like the system or not, she’s reaping the consequences. The law would’ve executed her. Instead, she’s being auctioned like a magical beast.”

A beat passed.

”I’d argue she’s lucky.”

Michael didn’t comment. His gaze returned to the elf.

Arianne followed his gaze, then tilted her head slightly toward him. ”You know,” she said in a calm tone, ”if you’re interested, you could try bidding.”

Michael blinked, surprised. ”For her?”

”She’s strong,” Arianne replied. ”You heard the auctioneer. If she really did defeat two advanced-tier knights, then she’s worth far more than half the people here.”

Michael didn’t immediately respond. The idea hadn’t occurred to him. Owning someone—buying them like an object—was something he instinctively pushed against. But from a pragmatic perspective... she was....valuable.

A powerful bodyguard.

Still, he hesitated. ”Even if I bought her,” he said quietly, ”I’d have to worry about her loyalty. She’s not a magical artifact you can just wield.”

Arianne gave a soft smile. ”You wouldn’t need to worry. For situations like this, a master-servant contract is always prepared by the auction house. It’s magically enforced. If she refuses or breaks the terms, she’ll suffer backlash. Lethal backlash.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. ”You’ve seen this kind of contract before?”

”Of course,” Arianne replied, her tone neutral. ”It’s standard in high-tier slave auctions. Especially for creatures, monsters, and races with volatile personalities. It’s not just about ownership—it’s about control. Safety.”

That part didn’t sit well with him.

But still... it was a dark elf.

Michael even had a slight suspicion that she was of a high race comparable to his own. Which only made her more valuable.

A race with potential, one he’d never even seen until tonight. If she really was that strong, and if he could find a way to eventually earn her true loyalty—past the contract—it could be more than worth it.

Michael leaned forward slightly, gaze still locked on the girl in the cage.

He had a decision to make.

Michael turned his attention back to the stage.

The room below them remained silent, but not with disinterest. The real tension wasn’t among the common audience. It was up here—behind the tinted glass of the private balconies.

These were the bidders.

The auctioneer waited until the anticipation had fully settled.

”The bidding,” he said, ”will begin at 5,000 gold coins. Minimum increment: 100.”

Even Arianne let out a slow whistle at that.

That’s five hundred thousand silver. Half a million dollars in Aurora’s terms.

Michael said nothing, calculating quietly. In sheer numbers, that was the price of a manor. Or a city block.

But for a living, breathing, combat-ready dark elf? An assassin who’d overwhelmed advanced stage Knights and come out on top?

Maybe not overpriced.

”Five thousand,” a clear voice rang from one of the eastern chambers.

A moment later—

”Five thousand one hundred.”

”Five thousand three.”

”Five thousand four hundred.”

******

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