bookpower Chapter 20: Sponsorship [3]
Chapter 20: Sponsorship [3]
Chapter 20: Sponsorship [3]
Naturally, as a member of the Imperial Family, Astrid received an invitation to the auction.
As someone who appreciated the finer things in life, she couldn't resist attending.
Accompanied by her trusted guard, Nicolas Machiavelli, Astrid arrived at the grand hall.
Nicolas, a distinguished knight from the Crusade of the Round Tables, walked a step behind her.
The attendants bowed deeply as Astrid entered.
"Welcome, Your Highness. Your private booth has been prepared."
Astrid nodded curtly, sweeping past them with a regal air.
Her golden hair shimmered under the chandeliers, catching the attention of several attendees.
She had grown accustomed to the stares.
Once seated in her private booth, Astrid picked up the auction catalog.
She flipped through the pages lazily.
"Your Highness, should I arrange for anything in particular?" Nicolas asked, standing at attention nearby.
"Not yet," Astrid replied. "Let's see if anything catches my eye."
Her gaze settled on a listing.
A rare piece of jewelry.
Its description boasted a brilliant aesthetic and minor magical properties.
"Hmm. This could be worth something."
Astrid's attention flickered to the next page.
Her smirk faltered slightly as her eyes landed on a peculiar entry.
Ethereal Fragment.
"What's this?" she murmured, tilting her head.
The description was vague. As if the auctioneers didn't know what it was even for. Yet marketed it to the best they could without seeming like a scam.
And truth be told, it looked like nothing but a pretty rock.
But something about it piqued her interest.
"Nicolas," she called.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"What do you make of this?" She handed him the catalog.
He studied the entry briefly "It appears insignificant, Your Highness. Perhaps an attempt to fill the catalog."
Astrid's lips pursed.
She wasn't entirely convinced.
"Place a bid on it if the price doesn't rise too high," she ordered. "I want to examine it myself."
"As you wish," Nicolas said, bowing slightly.
Flick—
The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the auction.
Astrid leaned back in her chair, one hand resting under her chin.
The first few items were unremarkable in her eyes, and her bids remained absent.
When the Ethereal Fragment finally appeared on stage, Astrid's focus sharpened.
The bidding began low, as expected.
"Do I hear 300,000 Rend?" the auctioneer called.
A single paddle was raised.
"302,000."
Astrid's brows lifted as she turned toward the bidder.
It was a man seated in the VIP section, accompanied by a butler.
However, Astrid couldn't make out his appearance due to the dark.
Nicolas stepped forward. "Shall I place a counterbid, Your Highness?"
"No. Let him have it."
Nicolas hesitated but obeyed.
Astrid leaned back in her seat, her curiosity piqued.
As the bidding continued, she watched the figure in the VIP section raise their paddle again, securing the item.
Astrid, meanwhile, had claimed the items she desired without much trouble.
Still, something felt peculiar.
There were far more remarkable items up for grabs, ones that had sparked fierce bidding wars among the aristocrats.
But the figure in the VIP section remained indifferent.
He—or perhaps she—never joined the fray.
Instead, the mysterious bidder raised their paddle only for items others deemed useless.
The room began to buzz with murmurs.
—Who is that?
—Some weirdo, probably.
—What's the point of bidding on junk?
Curiosity got the better of some.
A few bidders began countering the mysterious figure's bids, just for the sake of provocation.
The tension escalated.
Yet, despite the growing opposition, the figure never wavered.
Each time a rival raised the bid, the mysterious bidder retaliated without hesitation.
—1,100,000 Rend?
—Oh? Do I hear 1,200,000?
Even as the price climbed to absurd heights for seemingly insignificant items, the figure refused to back down.
The crowd watched in silence as the figure secured yet another "worthless" artifact.
Astrid's eyes narrowed in curiosity.
"Interesting," she murmured under her breath.
Nicolas, standing at her side, leaned in slightly. "Your Highness?"
"That person," Astrid gestured toward the VIP section. "I want to know who they are."
"Shall I make inquiries?" Nicolas asked.
"Later," Astrid said, her gaze still fixed on the figure. "For now, let's watch."
As the auction continued, the mysterious figure's pattern became clear.
They weren't interested in value. At least, not the kind recognized by the average bidder.
No, they sought something different.
Meaning hidden beneath the surface.
And that realization sent a chill down Astrid's spine.
There, Princess Astrid Barielle Aetherion stood.
Beside her was a knight clad in light armor with the insignia of the Crusade of the Round Tables.
The Crusade of the Round Tables was an NPC support unit group the players could call upon completion of a specific act.
"Princess Astrid."
Vanitas knew who the bidder he was up against. It didn't take a genius to know which aristocrat would throw money out of amusement in a chamber far above the VVIP.
He wasn't sure which Princess it was, of course. But the encounter confirmed his conjectures.
"So," she began, "you were the one."
"It seems so, Princess."
"Lower your head, Vanitas," the knight beside her demanded.
Vanitas turned his gaze to the knight, his brow furrowing slightly. The man's voice carried a tinge of animosity.
Of course, Vanitas knew who he was, but what he didn't know was his relationship to the knight.
Astrid glanced at her escort in surprise. "Nicolas?"
The knight—Nicolas Machiavelli—stepped forward.
"So it really is you. I never thought I'd see the day."
"...."
In times like these, when he didn't have a grasp on information, it was better to remain silent.
Astrid's gaze flicked between them with interest.
"Do you two know each other?"
"Yes, Princess," Nicolas said with a nod. "We were in the same batch during our university years—he in the Magic Department, and I in the Crusade Department."
"Really? You never told me that. Why not?"
"I didn't think it was important." Then his gaze shifted back to Vanitas. "But wait, Princess, you called him Professor, didn't you?"
"That's correct. He's my Professor."
Nicolas blinked, clearly surprised at Vanitas. "You? Teaching?"
"For four years now. Is that so surprising?" Vanitas said.
"Wha—Four years!?" Nicolas exclaimed, nearly choking on his words.
"Where have you been? Living under a rock?"
Nicolas frowned, crossing his arms. "I've been stationed in the northern borders since graduation. News doesn't travel well when you're fending off beasts."
"Is that so?"
"Enough," Astrid interjected.
Her gaze then shifted to Vanitas, "Professor, if I may ask, why did you bid for those items?"
Vanitas's expression didn't waver. "Because I saw value in them."
"Value?" Astrid tilted her head, skeptical. "Most of those items seemed insignificant, though?"
"To the untrained eye, perhaps."
Astrid's eyes narrowed. "Then enlighten me. What makes them valuable to you?"
Vanitas hesitated, thinking about his response.
Sharing too much could draw unwanted attention, but dismissing her outright might pique her curiosity further.
"They are tools, Your Highness," he said. "And every tool has its purpose, whether it's immediately apparent or not."
"....I see." Astrid's tone was neutral, but her gaze told him she was clearly unsatisfied.
Nicolas shifted uncomfortably beside her. "Tools, huh? Just like what you called our team before you used us as bait."
"...."
Vanitas's expression remained composed, but his eyes flickered briefly toward Nicolas.
"It was a needed sacrifice, Nicolas," he said.
"Needed—You! We failed those exams because of you!"
Vanitas raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you graduated, didn't you? I'd say it worked out."
"Cold hearted bastard! Margaret had to repeat a year because of y—"
"Enough, Nicolas," Astrid interjected.
Nicolas froze, his words caught in his throat.
Vanitas on the other hand, rummaged his thoughts at the mention of 'Margaret.'
However, before he could question Nicolas, the Princess spoke.
"In any case," Astrid said, her gaze shifting to Vanitas. "This was an interesting lesson, Professor. I look forward to your lecture on Monday."
With a small nod, she turned on her heel with graceful regal.
"Let's go, Nicolas," she called over her shoulder.
Nicolas lingered for a moment, fixing his glare on Vanitas.
"You haven't changed as much as you think."
"Margaret. Do you mean Margaret Illenia?" Vanitas genuinely asked, causing Nicolas to pause right beside him.
"Who else? Thanks to the grades I accumulated, I managed to graduate. But Margaret...."
Nicolas clenched his fist.
"...."
Vanitas merely remained quiet, and Nicolas walked past him, his armor clinking softly on the marbled floor.
Watching his departing back, Vanitas clutched his forehead.
The continuous usage of the spectacle left him with an unbearable migraine.
"Nicolas Machiavelli, huh?"
If his memory served right, Nicolas Machiavelli was a mid–game boss.
However, that was an act that would occur in the future.
The problem was, he hadn't foreseen Nicolas's relationship with Vanitas Astrea. Taking his behavior and tonality when the Princess was right behind him, it was clear there was more than meets the eye.
At this rate, who knows what kind of stories Nicolas would share with the Princess regarding him?
Vanitas clenched his fist, feeling his nails dug in his skin.
He had to make a better impression on the Princess soon. She needed to trust him.
"Tsk," he clicked his tongue.
Old grudges were a nuisance, especially when they weren't his fault.
Especially whatever issue he had with Margaret Illenia.
After all, Margaret Illenia was the Crusade responsible for Vanitas's exile in the game.
"I need to look into this."
As Vanitas headed for the car, where his butler, Evan was waiting, his thoughts drifted to the conversation with Nicolas.
If someone barked at him, Vanitas saw no reason to bark back.
He didn't plan on becoming a push–over.
Not in this life.
"Never again."
Adjusting his blazer, Vanitas got into the car and left shortly after.