Unrepentant

"Sold for fifteen million Reshal!" Magistrate Lachlan's voice boomed through the hall, his authoritative tone barely masking the amusement in his eyes. "To the esteemed Alchemist Sage Lorian!"

The hall buzzed with barely contained laughter as Lorian, gnashing his teeth and clenching his fists so tightly that his entire body trembled with rage, made his way onto the stage. The tension in his frame was palpable, a contrast to the mirthful atmosphere around him.

Silas, seated comfortably in the gallery, couldn't resist one final jab. "The final price was seven and a half of his mothers, give or take," he remarked, his voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd.

The audience erupted into roaring laughter once more. Even those who had tried to maintain decorum couldn't help but chuckle at Silas's audacity.

"Enough!" The Priest of Probitas's voice cut through the laughter like a blade. "This shall not stand! Blatant insults like this that disregard etiquette in front of a servant of the most honorable Probitas are nigh blasphemous!"

The hall fell silent, a wave of discontent rippling through the crowd at being chastised by the Priest. Lorian muttered a thank you to him, though his gratitude was tinged with bitterness.

Silas thought to himself ''Well, I see the tonic is definitely working''. He stood up, his expression unreadable. "Honorable Priest," he began in an even monotone that sent a shiver down the Priest's spine, "I have not broken the rules of this hall. I have spoken only while bidding and I have not said any insulting or untruthful words. I do, in fact, hold our Alchemist friend's mother in the highest of esteem."

Several drinks were spat out at that line, and Emma pressed her hands over Kell's mouth to stifle his oncoming laughter.

Lorian's face turned an even deeper shade of red. "How dare you!" he yelled, his voice cracking with fury.

Nyx, deciding it was a good opportunity, made his way through the folds of the Priest's robe. Silently climbing up to the small shadow inside his sleeve, Nyx decided, "A little nudge!"

With a gentle tug on the Priest's arm from within the sleeve, Nyx set events into motion. In his bubbling rage, the Priest didn't even notice it wasn't by his own will that he started reaching for his mace.

The hall held its breath as tension crackled in the air...

Silas's lips curled into a faint smile, enjoying the spectacle.

"Stop in the name of Her Majesty!" The Magistrate's voice thundered through the hall, cutting through the rising clamor. His words hung in the air, demanding immediate obedience.

Lorian and the Priest turned to him, their faces twisted with anger. The Priest's arm trembled as he held his mace aloft, eyes glazed over with righteous fury. To be ordered using a mortal Empress's title was an affront he could scarcely tolerate.

The Magistrate huffed, letting his energy flow out in a wave that washed over the hall. Silas understood it immediately—a potent force that marked the Magistrate as someone at the pinnacle of the second step of cultivation. His energy was beginning to show signs of purification, a rare and formidable feat.

Zinnia—rather, Selen—stood near the Magistrate, her face paling as cold sweat formed on her brow. Silas noted her discomfort with mild amusement; she had underestimated the Magistrate's power, apparently her time in the Castle did not expose her to this side of the Magistrate. The youths in the gallery were similarly affected, their enjoyment wilting under the oppressive aura.

But what truly impressed Silas was the bloodlust contained within that energy. It was a tangible thing, a dark and heavy presence that spoke of countless lives taken without hesitation. The Lord Magistrate of Rhysling was not just an administrator; he was apparently also a butcher who had waded through rivers of blood.

The Priest seemed unfazed by this display. If anything, it spurred him on. His eyes burned with zeal as he drew upon power from deep within himself, his hands moving almost independently to hoist his mace above his head. He began to gather the power of faith, preparing to cast a miracle that would surely turn this confrontation deadly.

The Magistrate's fury only grew at this defiance. "The Empire is not beholden to Probitas," he snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "Your presence here is to honor tradition, not dispense judgments beyond your rights."

His hand moved to grip his saber, and instantly, the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. The aura around him intensified, becoming almost suffocating in its intensity. However, what happened next no one could foresee, well except for Nyx and Silas—the Magistrate's hair began to smolder and then burst into flames as if ignited by his sheer rage.

The hall fell silent as everyone watched in astonishment. The fire consumed his hair quickly, revealing a bald head that almost sparkled under the hall's lights.

The sight stunned the Priest, halting his miracle mid-formation. Confusion clouded his eyes as he lowered his mace, the divine energy dissipating into the air. Lorian, standing nearby, coughed to catch the Magistrate's attention.

"Your Lordship... your hair..." Lorian's voice barely rose above a whisper, but it carried through the silent hall.

The Magistrate's hand instinctively went to his head, finding only the smooth skin of his scalp. The absence of his toupee was a new revelation to him. The hall remained dead silent, every eye fixed on the Magistrate. Nyx, hidden nearby, struggled to contain his laughter ''Oh, this is glorious! HAHAHA!'', he thought, as he prepared to give the Priest another 'nudge'.

The Magistrate took a deep breath, his face a mask of controlled fury. "Of all the annoyances you could cause," he addressed the Priest with icy calmness, "you destroy my hair?"

The audience quivered with held-in laughter, each person trying desperately not to make a sound that could incite the Magistrate's wrath further. The Priest's face turned a shade paler as he responded calmly.

"I did nothing of the sort," he said. "I would never use the powers given to me by the gods for such silly pranks."

Silas chose this moment to let his voice flow over the silent hall. "The Priest speaks the truth," he said smoothly. "I can smell the faint whiff of a dissolving mixture."

The Magistrate's eyes snapped to Lorian, who looked momentarily shocked before taking a cautious sniff of the air.

"...the scoundrel in the gallery is not wrong," Lorian admitted reluctantly.

The Magistrate scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes before closing them and taking another deep breath. "Whomever has done this," he declared with forced calmness, "for the sake of today's peace I shall overlook it. Let us put this disgraceful display to an end and complete this transaction."

Inside his mind, however, a scream echoed: "ARRRGGHHHHHHHH!!!!"

The crowd was taken aback by how gracefully the Magistrate handled his sudden baldness. Whispers of admiration for his magnanimity rippled through those present. The collective sentiment shifted; perhaps it was time for this spectacle to conclude…

Lorian paid the price for his item under the watchful eye of the Magistrate. The tension in the room was palpable as the transaction took place, every eye in the hall fixed on the exchange. Some were perhaps hoping for more entertainment, alas the Magistrate's bald presence ensured that everything proceeded smoothly.

Once the amount due was confirmed, Zinnia, disguised as Selen, stepped forward with the container holding the "Bloodmoon Thorn." She handed it to Lorian with a composed expression, though her mind raced with anxiety. This moment was crucial; their con hinged on Lorian's inspection. She had to admit, while she could coax the Mimic into the correct form, whatever Ji did to it had made the herb seem much more substantial.

Lorian took the container with a seasoned hand, his aged features betraying no emotion as he began his inspection. He opened it carefully, revealing the crimson thorns that gleamed like polished rubies. The room held its collective breath as he examined it closely, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on the herb.

Zinnia watched intently, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it—the make or break moment. If Lorian detected any flaw, their scheme would have to be corrected on the spot or else it will unravel before their eyes. She forced herself to remain calm.

After what felt like an eternity, Lorian nodded approvingly. "Everything is in order," he announced, passing the container back to the staff member.

Relief washed over Zinnia like a wave. She managed to keep her expression neutral, but inside she felt a surge of triumph. The first step was done; they had fooled probably one of the most respected Alchemists in the Empire.

As Lorian concluded his inspection, Arim coughed to get their attention. His inner thoughts were as such: ''I know that calamity needs this item; he is getting it one way or another… may as well stay in his good graces and give him a chance to swipe it…''

With a professional smile upon his face, Arim spoke up. "First of all, congratulations, colleague Lorian. Secondly, forgive this one's daring Lord Magistrate, but I must ask our noble visitor whether the Alchemists here can take a closer look at the Thorn before it is taken back to Lythoria… It would mean a lot to many of us if we could see one of the rarest herbs on the continent up close."

The Magistrate chuckled good-naturedly at the request. "A reasonable request, I see no harm in making it" he said.

Lorian breathed in deeply before responding. "For the sake of Guildmaster Arim and our fellow colleagues here, I can allow it after the auction."

Arim thanked him graciously while Zinnia thought to herself: ''Time is running out; how is he going to—''

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she saw the Priest knock the container with the fake Bloodmoon Thorn from the staff member's hands. The container tumbled through the air in slow motion before hitting the ground with a dull thud.

All eyes snapped towards the Priest, confusion palpable on everyone's face—including his own.

''Ah,'' Zinnia thought with a relief. ''That's how.''

Lorian's voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd, sharp and filled with indignation. "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, glaring at the Priest who had knocked the container from the staff member's hands.

The Priest looked down at his hand, then took a deep breath. His expression shifted to one of serene confidence—or perhaps delusional certainty. "Something must be wrong," he declared. "My hand was guided to not allow this trade."

A vein popped on Lorian's forehead, his face turning a shade redder. "What kind of bullshit are you spewing!" he roared, his voice echoing through the hall.

Zinnia, maintaining her guise, chimed in with a tone that matched Lorian's outrage. "What the hell, Priest?!"

Nyx, hidden within the folds of the Priest's sleeve, chuckled to himself. ''Oh hell do I love these holy schmucks…''

The Magistrate stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he addressed the Priest. "Can you prove your words?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge of skepticism.

The Priest pressed his lips together before responding. "I can cast a miracle of guilt detection," he admitted. "I cannot force a confession like a second-step divine servant—a Bishop—but I can use this to prove that something is wrong here."

Zinnia made a show of raising her fists and clenching them in anger. "How dare you call me—"

The Magistrate interrupted her with a calm smile. "Honored guest, I am sure the Priest is just making a mistake… but we must honor tradition and let him make a judgment on the intent behind this trade…" He moved closer to Zinnia and whispered softly, "I am sure he was agitated due to Senior Ji's… playful jabs and did this in a spur of rage. He is simply trying to restore some face… please humor him for my sake!"

Zinnia pouted and gave a defeated sigh. "Fineee~."

Lorian, however, was far from placated. "You Priests have done so much damage these last two decades yet you still insist on causing problems for people…" he spat.

The Priest's face contorted with outrage as he yelled across the hall, "We saved you all from that monster!!! Yet for all that we have sacrificed, we received nothing but scorn!"

The crowd reacted with mixed emotions—some shocked by the outburst, others indifferent to the Priest's words.

Silas watched the scene taking place, pleased with the way it was going. The chaos was playing out perfectly. Nyx’s antics had stirred the pot just enough to set the plan in motion.

The Magistrate’s voice cut through once more, calm yet authoritative. “Let us proceed then,” he said. “I allow the Priest to perform his miracle.”

The crowd’s murmurs grew louder as anticipation built up in the Starlight Bidders’ Hall.

Kell leaned closer to Emma, his voice barely a whisper. "Do you know what the Sage is talking about when it comes to Priests causing problems?"

Emma rolled her eyes, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Kell, I'm not much older than you. But I do remember something from when I was a child." She placed her hands under her chin, her gaze fixed on the stage below. "My grandfather once rushed into our sect's hall in a panic, telling everyone to stay close and channel their Qi to form the strongest barrier possible."

She rubbed her temple, making a gesture that Kell found endearing but couldn't bring himself to comment on. "If I remember right, grandfather said all twelve Archbishops had agreed to cast a grand miracle to stop something. He said they had one-sidedly decided to decimate the continent's fate or something like that."

A servant of Kell's stepped forward from behind them, bowing slightly. "I beg for forgiveness for the interruption," he began, his tone respectful. "The young Mistress is remembering the events of the Betrayal."

Kell and Emma turned their attention to him, curiosity piqued.

"The Priests of the twelve draw their strength from their own faith as well as the faith of others to perform miracles," the servant explained. "Miracles born from faith allow their casters to alter fate itself. Someone fated to die during a calamity could 'miraculously' survive with divine intervention. For millennia, the Priesthood has used their abilities to keep our world in accordance with Heaven's mandate…"

He paused, his expression growing somber. "However… there was an incident years back that it seems like you were too young to recall. The twelve Archbishops overtaxed the faith of us believers to eradicate an enemy of fate they could not stop with their own abilities. Those caught unaware by the grand Betrayal had their providence all but destroyed."

Emma and Kell exchanged uneasy glances, their faces shocked.

"It was a horrible time," the servant continued. "People died from mundane causes, cultivators were eternally shut off from advancing, fortunes were lost, stillbirths and diseases were rampant… and so much worse."

Kell interrupted, his voice tinged with desperation. "What was it all for? Was it worth it?"

The servant offered a sad smile. "I am not sure. The monster they intended to stop, they managed as far as anyone knows. However, by forcefully taking so much of the people's faith, they effectively crippled the higher divine powers… and that was not the only danger we faced in our lives."

Emma's brow furrowed as she looked at the servant. "What is 'that' they were trying to stop?"

The servant seemed surprised by her question but began to answer nonetheless. "O-"

Before he could finish, a thunderous voice echoed through the hall.

"YOU DARE COMMIT SUCH DECEPTION BEFORE THIS SERVANT OF PROBITAS?!"

The sudden outburst drew everyone's attention back to the stage where chaos seemed ready to erupt once more.