The Legendary Method Actor

A moment later, the heavy door opened. The sales clerk scurried back out, looking incredibly apologetic. Following closely behind her was an older, distinguished gentleman wearing a finely tailored merchant’s coat and a monocle. He was dabbing his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.

The man rushed over to Ray and immediately offered a deep, incredibly apologetic bow.

”Young lord, please accept my deepest apologies. I am Fred Kreutz, the Manager of SMT-Solhaven Academy branch. My clerk informed me of your request. Unfortunately, not only is the item not currently in our inventory, but I must humbly decline the commission to find it. In all my years traversing the magical markets, I have never heard of an artifact capable of breaking the laws of elemental alignment so thoroughly. We simply cannot fulfill your request.”

The older man said, his voice dripping with professional regret.

Ray let out a perfectly timed, aristocratic sigh of disappointment. He shook his head slowly.

”I see. I was told SMT could find anything. It seems I was misinformed.”

Fred Kreutz flinched as if he had been physically struck. Terrified of this incident spreading that contradicts SMT’s guarantee to its customers, the manager’s merchant instincts kicked into overdrive. He desperately needed to save face and appease the disappointed noble.

”Please, young lord, do not let this single failure sour your view of our establishment! In fact, you are incredibly fortunate to have visited us tonight. In exactly two hours, SMT is hosting our exclusive, quarterly auction. We have secured artifacts that are not available to the general public.”

Fred pleaded, as he reached into his tailored coat and produced a black card embossed with gold foil.

”Allow me to offer you this complementary VIP ticket,”

Fred said smoothly, handing the card to Ray.

”It grants access to a private, elevated viewing room, complimentary food and drink, and a dedicated bidding attendant. A ticket for this normally costs one thousand Academy Marks. Please, accept it as an apology for our establishment’s shortcomings.”

Ray looked at the black card. The word ‘auction’ sparked a sudden, intense curiosity in him. In his past life, he had filmed dozens of scenes in glamorous, high-stakes auctions. He knew the choreography, the dramatic pauses, the tension of the bidding paddle. But he had never actually attended a real one.

”An exclusive auction. Very well, Manager Fred. I accept your apology.”

Ray mused, tapping the card against his palm.

”Excellent! Wonderful! The auction floor is currently being prepared, but you are more than welcome to wait upstairs in our VIP lounge and restaurant. Anything you order is, of course on the house.”

Fred said as his shoulders sags with visible relief, an audible breath escaping his lungs.

”Thank you.”

Ray nodded.

Deciding to update his companions, Ray reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the Custodian Crest. He pressed his thumb against the cold metal, activating the private comm-link, and sent a brief, localized text to Rina’s standard slate:

I am at SMT. Attending an auction in two hours. You and Svane are welcome to join me in the VIP lounge if your shopping concludes early.

As Ray drafted the message, Fred Kreutz watched closely. The manager’s eyes locked onto the metallic crest in Ray’s hand.

Fred was a veteran of the capital’s markets. He recognized standard student medallions. He recognized the heavy master slates carried by the faculty. But the artifact Ray was currently holding, radiating a dense, highly encrypted arcane signature, was something Fred had never seen before.

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That is no ordinary communication tool. That is military-grade, or perhaps something issued directly by the Arcane Council itself.

Fred thought as he realized in a split second.

The quiet, unassuming student standing before him was not just a noble. He had to be someone of terrifyingly high status, deeply connected to the absolute highest echelons of the Academy’s power structure.

Fred Kreutz swallowed hard, mentally patting himself on the back. He was incredibly relieved he had handed over that VIP ticket.

”Manager Fred, I will continue to browse the wares while I wait for my companions.”

Ray said, slipping the black, gold-embossed VIP ticket into his coat breast pocket.

”Of course, my lord! Please, take all the time you need.”

Fred Kreutz beamed, eager to accommodate his mysterious guest. He gestured toward the cheerful sales clerk who had initially greeted Ray.

”Aila here will serve as your dedicated attendant for the evening. If you require absolutely anything, be it a question about an artifact, or simply if you are thirsty or hungry, she will fetch it for you immediately. Now, if you will excuse me, I must oversee the final preparations for the auction floor.”

Fred offered one last, deeply respectful bow before bustling away toward the back offices.

Ray turned to Aila, who was standing at attention with her hands clasped, looking incredibly eager to please.

”Actually, Aila, I am a bit thirsty, I indulged in a rather large, spicy giant-boar skewer out in the market earlier. Could I trouble you for a glass of cold iced tea?”

Ray requested.

”Right away, my lord! I will return in just a moment!”

Aila nodded frantically, her uniform swishing as she practically sprinted toward the hospitality wing.

Left to his own devices once more, Ray’s mindset shifted. He was no longer idly browsing curiosities; he was actively hunting. He was returning to Greywood Domain soon, and while Eliza Vance was preparing the exchange of marks to gold crowns for him to bring back, money was impersonal. He wanted to find practical, meaningful gifts that his family could actually use.

He moved deliberately through the aisles, scanning the display cases.

In the enchanted jewelry section, a plain, dark metal band caught his eye. Ray leaned in to read the small, elegantly penned tag:

Ring of Warmth.

The description on it was very specific:

While one is wearing this ring, they will have resistance to ice based magic. In addition, the wearer and everything they wear and carry are unharmed by temperatures as low as -45 degrees.

Ray immediately thought of his older brother, Corbin. Stationed in the freezing, unforgiving environment of the Northern Citadel, Corbin spent his days enduring brutal blizzards and bone-chilling winds. A ring that completely negated freezing temperatures wouldn’t just be comfortable; it could save his brother’s life during a harsh patrol. Ray mentally noted the ring for purchase.

Moving along to the artisan craftsmanship aisle, Ray spotted a long, delicate-looking wooden smoke pipe. It was a beautiful piece, featuring a bowl carved from a perfectly smooth, dark river stone.

The tag read:

Pipe of Remembrance.

And its description it says:

This wooden pipe features a bowl made from smooth river stone. When the pipe is lit, smoke exhaled from it does not dissipate, instead lingering around the bearer. After a couple of minutes, the smoke forms into a moving, smoky image that reenacts what the bearer was thinking about. When this realistic performance is complete, the smoke dissipates. The pipe can’t be used this way again until the next dawn.

Ray smiled faintly. He thought of his father, Alistair. The Lord of House Croft was a deeply sentimental man who loved to reminisce about his parents, their ancestors, and the history of their territory. A pipe that could literally breathe life into his fondest memories, projecting them into the air for the family to see, was the perfect gift.

A few shelves down, Ray found something for both of his parents to share. It was a polished metal bottle with a small cork stopper attached to the neck by a delicate silver chain.

The tag read:

Bottle of Boundless Tea,

And its description it says:

This bottle carries delicious, warm tea. Even when open, the bottle won’t accept any liquid other than the tea that it produces. The tea inside is always comfortably warm, and none of the heat can be felt through the bottle. It has enough tea for six glasses and it refills every dawn.

It was simple, elegant, and highly practical. Ray could easily envision his parents sitting in the manor’s study on a quiet evening, sharing a perfectly brewed cup of tea that never grew cold. He added the item to his mental list.

Finally, as Ray wandered near the industrial and elemental section, he found an item that wasn’t just a personal gift, but a potential asset for his entire territory.

Sitting on a small pedestal was a three-inch cube of solid, dark red brimstone. It radiated a faint, dry warmth.

Ray checked the tag is says:

Thermal Cube.

The description on it was brief but impactful:

It generates enough dry heat to keep the temperature within 15 feet of it at exactly 35 degrees.

Ray’s mind instantly began calculating the logistical applications. A permanent, fuel-less heat source that maintained a 30-foot sphere of summer-level warmth was incredibly valuable. It could be placed in the center of the workers’ barracks during winter to keep their household staff perfectly warm, completely eliminating the need for expensive firewood. Or, placed strategically in a greenhouse, it could allow the Crofts to cultivate warm-weather crops in the dead of winter.