Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Pretend Tycoon

“The final item for auction is…”
A voice, neither distinctly male nor female, lingered on the last syllable, drawing out the attention of everyone in the vast hall, their focus sharpened in anticipation of a good price.

Seeing that all eyes were fixed upon him, the beardless man slowly pronounced the name of the item, word by word.

The Starhammer of Chaos!

Dozens of people in the hall were stunned into silence. For a moment, not a single sound was uttered. Then, a chorus of astonished gasps erupted, followed by a storm of whispered discussion. Every gaze locked onto the auction platform, where an unremarkable wooden box hovered in midair.

Satisfied with the effect, the beardless man continued, “The Starhammer of Chaos, a replica. Though it is but a replica, it is considered one of the highest-grade artifacts in the Eastern Yue Kingdom. Opening bid: one hundred fifty thousand. The auction begins.”

One hundred fifty thousand?

That was nearly half the total value of all the previous auctioned items. Who could be so extravagant? And for a mere replica, a weapon of pure offensive power—unless one had money to burn, who would squander so much?

Suddenly, a lazy voice sounded from the northeast corner, “Why do you speak as if you’re gasping for air? As if you really have something special. Just a replica. Fine, since I’m here, I’ll do you the honor. I bid one spirit stone.”

Everyone turned to look. The figure was blurred, thanks to a restriction set by the organizers to protect buyers’ identities. The silhouette seemed unremarkable—was the person mad, or simply out to disrupt proceedings?

The beardless man suppressed his irritation and called out, “Brother, you’ve been silent since the auction began. Now, for the final treasure, you bid just one spirit stone? Are you toying with us?”

“Tch!” The lazy voice oozed disdain. “I bid one premium spirit stone.”

The statement ignited the auction once more. Spirit stones were graded: low, medium, high, premium, and supreme—with each grade a hundred times the previous. One premium spirit stone equaled a million low-grade stones, a legendary sum in Eastern Yue.

The beardless man immediately donned a smile. “Young master, I misunderstood. Of course, a premium spirit stone is acceptable.” He raised his wooden gavel and called out, “The Starhammer of Chaos, one premium spirit stone. Any higher bids?” The gavel came down. “One premium spirit stone, once.”

“One premium spirit stone, twice.”
No one raised the bid. The price far exceeded the item’s worth; nobody wished to be a fool.

“One premium spirit stone, sold.” On the third strike, the beardless man waved his hand, and the inconspicuous wooden box flew straight to the buyer. “Young master, please examine the item. If there are no objections, after the auction fee is paid, the treasure is yours.”

All eyes turned to the young master. Within the shielded booth, his shadow seemed to wave languidly. The wooden box flew into his hand, and without so much as a glance, he tucked it into his storage pouch. Then, with a casual flick, he tossed a beam of white light.

The white light landed instantly in the beardless man’s hand, and the lazy voice echoed, “No need to check. It’s just a replica. Even half a glance wouldn’t interest me. I bought it merely to avoid leaving empty-handed. What’s the big deal? Just playing around. I have money to spare, haha.”

---

Such arrogance! Many now swept their spiritual senses over him, with some employing secret arts to probe the shielded figure. All attempts were rebuffed.

The young master laughed without care, ignoring the envy and resentment directed at him. Someone with his wealth could afford such laughter.

Yet, with the treasure in hand, it was time to leave. He sensed several unfriendly gazes—this foolishly rich young master was well aware of their ill intentions, but he seemed utterly unafraid. “Host, may I leave now?”

The beardless man discreetly checked the spirit stone he’d received and hurriedly smiled. “Of course you may. Please, this way. We’ve prepared a special teleportation array for our esteemed guests.” At all major auctions, a VIP exit was provided for high rollers—their safety afterward was no concern of the organizers.

A dense forest. A young man of ordinary appearance.

He suddenly halted, not because he wished to, but because he could not go any further. Ahead, the void seemed to form an invisible wall, impossible to breach however hard he tried.

An elderly voice sounded behind him, “Blood Fiend Alliance, surging demonic intent. Young master, be sensible—sacrifice your wealth to avoid disaster.”

“Blood Fiend Alliance? Hah, so you’ve come to rob me.” The lazy voice belonged to the same young master who had purchased the Starhammer of Chaos for a premium spirit stone.

“Ha ha ha ha!” A wild laughter rang out as a blood-robed man appeared behind him, well over sixty but still robust and strong-voiced. “Young man, no matter how wealthy your family, when you meet the Blood Fiend Alliance, there are only two paths: hand over your money, or be destroyed and have it taken from your corpse. Choose.”

The young master did not turn, but replied calmly, “I choose a third path.”

“Ha! Ignorant child, there is no third path. No one has ever chosen a third path.”

As he turned, the young master spoke quietly, “I say there is. My third path is to kill you and take your money.”

“Heh…” The blood-robed man’s sneer abruptly stopped, for he saw the young master’s face—a plain smile and a charming little tiger tooth showing at his lip.

Lei Xiang? This extravagantly rich young master was actually Lei Xiang in disguise.

The blood-robed elder was dumbstruck. Wasn’t Lei Xiang the fugitive with a bounty from the Blood Fiend Alliance? Why would he pose as a wealthy buyer at the auction? “A trap—this must be a trap.” The elder confirmed by spiritual sense that Lei Xiang was only at the early Foundation stage and regained his composure. What could a mere minor cultivator do?

“Ha ha, Lei Xiang, you’ve walked right into my net. Do you know how much your head is worth? Come, let this old man see what tricks you have.”

Lei Xiang had no special tricks, only simple ones. He set up a leather tent, drew out the Eight-Treasure Dragon Lance, twisted the shaft in both hands, activated Reverse Scale defense, then simply sat cross-legged, the ordinary wooden box placed squarely on his knees.

The blood-robed elder stared at the box, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. This was the replica artifact from the auction—the Starhammer of Chaos. Even at his Core Formation level, he dared not take a blow head-on. To fight or to flee?

Suddenly, a cold smile appeared on the elder’s lips. Such ancient replica treasures were not easily wielded, nor quickly mastered. Lei Xiang must be bluffing, trying to scare him.

---

With this thought, the elder opened his left hand and a blood-red bow appeared. At some point, his right hand had produced a tiny jade-green arrow. He nocked the arrow, drew the bow into a full crescent, and sneered, “You think a Foundation brat can scare me? You’re not worthy.”

He released, and the jade-green arrow shot forth with a “thump,” splitting into countless green arrows, blanketing Lei Xiang.

But suddenly, a flash of white light erupted behind Lei Xiang, and all the arrows halted, spinning in place. Then, a voice, neither male nor female, sounded, “He’s not worthy, but what about me?”

A thin middle-aged man appeared at the blood-robed elder’s side, holding an ancient bronze mirror. He turned to Lei Xiang and said, “Master Lei, your calculations are impeccable. All those at the auction who harbored ill intentions toward you have been dealt with by this old man, saving us much trouble.”

The blood-robed elder was furious—he’d been used as free labor to clear the path for them. This Core Formation cultivator was the auction host. Lei Xiang alone was vexing enough; now, with an equal opponent, the odds of victory were slim.

As the elder schemed ways to escape, Lei Xiang spoke, “Senior Linghu, he wants to run. Trap him.”

“Yes!” With that, Linghu Chong spun the bronze mirror in his hand, releasing a misty white light that enveloped the space ten yards in front of the blood-robed elder. With a sudden “whoosh,” the light vanished. The elder frowned, noticing that Linghu Chong’s Autumn Water Mirror was now above his head, slowly rotating.

Autumn Water, as vast as the sky!

“You… Are you Linghu Chong of Eastern Yue?” At last, the blood-robed elder recognized the technique. In Eastern Yue, only Linghu Chong possessed the ancient Autumn Water Treasure Mirror.

Linghu Chong did not answer. He reached behind his back and drew two three-pronged golden clubs, formed a spell with both hands, and hurled them with a mighty “whoosh.” The elder shouted in rage, producing a fiery red gourd from his sleeve. With a single finger, the stopper popped open, releasing hundreds of black grains of sand.

Seeing the black sand, Linghu Chong’s expression grew grave. He tapped twice on the golden clubs, which instantly lengthened to over thirty feet. Between the clubs, an iron chain appeared—the three-pronged clubs transformed into a double-section staff.

A staff over sixty feet long.

The blood-robed elder wasted no time. He spat black mist onto the sand, which coalesced into a massive cleaver several yards long. Gripping the black blade, he swung, sending a jet-black arc slashing toward Linghu Chong.

Linghu Chong cried, “Excellent!” He pointed at the double-section staff above his head, which whistled through the air, crushing the blade’s arc beneath its mountain-like shadow.

The elder frowned, hurling the black cleaver formed from sand to intercept the staff in midair. Blade and staff clashed, black and gold flashing continuously—black light gradually gained the upper hand.

The elder rejoiced, hurriedly produced the blood-red bow, and was about to nock another jade-green arrow when—“whoosh!”—a black shadow smashed toward his face. He looked closely: it was the ordinary wooden box resting on Lei Xiang’s knee.

The auction’s prized treasure—the Starhammer of Chaos!