Chapter 133: To the Auction house (3)

Chapter 133: To the Auction house (3)

‘And Miella, no, Chefran needs to grow for the sake of the organization.’

What would happen if he spoke to Miella in a situation where no one could talk to him?

They would be curious and interested in the fact that a mere viscount came to this place.

The interest in Miella soon mingled with her ability to create magical items. They would mistakenly believe there was something special about Miella, and it would turn into admiration.

However, the head of Chefran was planning to adjust it properly so that they wouldn’t be noticed by Cronia.

‘So mysterious concept is perfect for me.’

Lucion gave macaroons to Ratta, who was mumbling and opening her mouth.

[Lucion, I think you know what you’re trying to do, but you know you have to do it moderately and quickly get out, right?]

As soon as Russell saw Lucion’s suspicious smile, he caught on.

Since it was an auction house where high-ranking aristocrats flocked, what would be of use?

High-ranking nobles and Miella, why not use these two somehow?

Lucion looked at Russell with a slight look of surprise.

Why is he so quick-witted?

“I know. I have to hit and run.”

[By the way, Lucion. I know you’re trying to use nobles, but your opponents are high-ranking nobles. What are you going to do?]

“Nobles are special. So they like something more special and rare. Isn’t that me?”

The only one in the world, blessed by a god.

What a beautiful word that captivates people.

“Yes, Young Master, you are special.”

Hume replied with a smile.

For a moment, Lucion’s brow twitched.

He didn’t mean to ask for this compliment.

―Oh! That’s right! Ratta thinks so too! This is the shiniest Ratta has ever seen Lucion! Twinkle twinkle.

Ratta’s eyes at Lucion today were as clear as a child’s eyes when they made a wish while looking at the comet.

Bethel smiled.

She couldn’t hold back her laughter because she could feel that Hume and Ratta really liked Lucion.

Lucion ate macaroons alone with an awkward look, and when the atmosphere was cleared up, he raised one eyebrow and continued the talk from a little while ago.

“...So, um, I’m going to change the seating arrangement a little, because I have to keep being special.”

Bethel informed him that his seat was the only seat in the front row where he stood out.

He didn’t know if the place was newly created or originally existed, but it was obvious that they were trying to use him at the auction house, so he had no intention of letting it happen.

‘Miella said she’s in the back, so I’ll take a seat in the back.’

Lucion reached out to the container of macaroons that Hume was holding and looked at Bethel.

“Bethel.”

[Yes, Lord Lucion.]

“You said there’s a warlock, right?”

For a moment, Lucion’s eyes sharpened.

[That’s right. They moved after Heint left, so Heint probably doesn’t know.]

Listening to Bethel’s reply, Lucion took a red macaron in his hand.

Rumors that he was coming to the auction house secretly spread, so it was natural for the warlocks to smell it and come.

In particular, how could the Neubra Kingdom, which had planted branches in the Empire, miss this good opportunity?

[Ah, they entered the auction house using black magic similar to the spell used by Lord Lucion. For now, I have seen four warlocks.]

“Did you find any items with light in the auction house?”

[No. There’s an insider. I saw that a light item was taken away for a while and then returned to its original state.]

[And you’re saying there’s no warlock that notices your presence?]

When Russell asked, Bethel nodded.

[Yeah, they don’t notice.]

“The warlock that Bethel saw would be from the Hand of the Void.”

Listening to the explanation of the situation, Lucion wiped the cream off his mouth with his thumb and said.

“Neubra Kingdom is already in trouble because of what I’ve done outside the border.”

[That’s right. There aren’t many things that can overturn this situation.]

Russell replied, smirking.

[Isn’t it funny if they suddenly declare that they’re going to kill a warlock? From the beginning, warlocks are the enemies of the world.]

“Yes. However, if the saint died and said they would kill the warlock for revenge, wouldn’t the situation be similar to the one before, but the difference in position would completely change?”

[Certainly... If their purpose is like what Lord Lucion said, there is a high possibility that people will be shaken.]

Bethel opened her mouth with a firm face, knowing what would happen if people were swept away by anger.

“That’s right. Shake up the situation and kill me. How good would that be?”

Lucion brushed Ratta’s wide-eyed face.

―Lucion can’t die! Ratta doesn’t like it!

“I don’t like it either, Ratta.”

Lucion snickered at Ratta who held his hand tightly.

“Excuse me.”

Heint spoke out.

“I am Heint Tria, the captain of the 8th Order of the Imperial Knights, entrusted as the Saint’s escort.”

Naturally stepping between Naughton and Lucion, Heint said hello to Naughton.

At the word Imperial Knight, the gazes of Naughton and those standing in line along the cloth changed.

Isn’t that the Imperial Knights that moved on the Emperor’s order?

“I want you to stay away a little for Saint’s protection.”

Heint remained vigilant because anyone could be an enemy.

“O-Of course.”

Naughton quickly moved away and showed a regretful expression.

“Is this conversation all right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Naughton’s eyes naturally turned to Hume as Heint answered with a sharp and heavy answer.

Hume blinked in bewilderment at the obvious envy in his eyes.

[Ignore it, Hume. He’s just staring at you.]

Russell said this first, just in case.

Then Hume corrected Lucion’s clothes and slightly shielded the various gazes toward Lucion.

“Are you okay?”

Hume asked, lowering his voice.

“Yes.”

Lucion replied briefly.

As Hume left, Lucion took the first step toward the auction house with a casual smile.

As soon as his feet touched the fabric, several blue threads wrapped around his body.

‘That’s right. There’s no way the thread won’t appear when the Hand of the Void appears.’

―Lucion! They’re all looking at Lucion! Ooh!

Ratta spoke excitedly.

Ratta was in the shadow so he couldn’t see it, but perhaps Ratta was shaking her head around.

“...I took this theme for the Saint, but I heard the news late that the Saint was allergic to divine power. For that, I’m really sorry. I absolutely didn’t mean to use this theme of light to discredit the Saint.”

At Naughton’s hesitant words, Lucion let it pass through one ear and counted the number of blue threads.

‘Eight.’

It was twice as much as Bethel said.

The fact that eight warlocks gathered was like saying that they wanted to destroy a national museum-sized auction house.

‘What a mess. I don’t even know how many insiders are hiding inside the auction house.’

Lucion looked at Bethel.

When Bethel blinked, Russell slipped out.

[He wants to know who the insider is.]

‘As expected of Teacher.’

Lucion was satisfied.

[...Is that true?]

Lucion nodded in a natural manner to Bethel’s startled voice.

[Lord Lucion didn’t say anything. How did you know?]

[Because I’m Lucion’s teacher. I can tell just by looking at Lucion’s eyes. You should try it, Bethel.]

Russell grinned, flattered.

[I’ll try harder.]

Bethel frowned slightly as he incited a subtle rivalry.

Lucion glanced at them and entered the auction house.

* * *

“...That’s the Saint.”

One of the employees at the auction house whispered while looking at Lucion.

First of all, his appearance that didn’t need to be said.

Second, the benevolence felt in his smile.

Third, the elegant steps.

Finally, they noticed right away the expression of their boss, Naughton.

The staff hurriedly bowed their heads, but they rarely took their eyes off Lucion.

“Y-You can come this way.”

As Naughton tried to guide him to his seat, Lucion raised his hand and stopped him.

“If I take the front seat, the auction probably isn’t going to go well.”

It sounded as though he could interfere with the auction because of the noble’s pride, and to Naughton, it sounded like he was worried about the auction.

“I’ll decide it myself. May I?”

Naughton nodded as if possessed by the gentleness that could be felt from his words.

“O-Of course. Saint, you may do as you please.”