Chapitre 225: Auction III
After the battle concluded, I approached Veyron, who was now bound by dark chains, the aura of his defiance as sharp as ever despite his predicament.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" I said, letting a thin smile curve my lips as I regarded the subdued Guild Master.
His eyes blazed with rebellion, refusing to bow even as the chains bit into his skin. "And what if I refuse whatever bargain you're about to propose?" His voice was hoarse, but steady, undaunted by defeat.
I raised an eyebrow, gesturing to Jin. With a simple flick of his hand, Jin dispelled the magic disguising him, revealing his true form as the Prince of the West. The room seemed to grow colder as recognition dawned on the faces of the guild members. Whispers of fear rippled through them like wind over dry grass.
"Refusal would be… unwise," Jin spoke, his voice like the calm before a storm. "Your name, your family, even the smallest spark of your legacy—snuffed out with the stroke of a pen."
Veyron's eyes widened, disbelief and rage warring for dominance in his expression. "Guilt by association—that practice was outlawed! You can't just—"
"Outlawed?" I interrupted with a shrug, a glimmer of dark amusement playing across my face. "Perhaps in treaties and proclamations. But reality, as you may have noticed, dances to the tune of power. And the Ashbluff family wields enough power to compose that dance however it sees fit."
Silence fell, heavy as a shroud. The weight of Jin's lineage and the unspoken history of brutal enforcement of loyalty settled over everyone present. Nobility in this world was not just an ancient relic but an ever-shifting force, capable of great benevolence or devastating cruelty, depending on which side of the blade you found yourself on.
Veyron's jaw clenched as he glanced at his guildmates, their faces pale and taut with dread. He was a man who had faced down beasts, commanded warriors, and ruled with pride—but now, bound and cornered, he saw the thin line between heroism and hubris.
I leaned in, letting the silence drag out a moment longer. "So, Veyron," I said softly, my tone almost conversational, "what will it be? Live to fight another day, or let stubborn pride be the epitaph on your guild's grave?"
His eyes met mine, flickering with a myriad of emotions before they finally settled on grim resolve.
With a deep, steadying breath, Veyron's shoulders slumped, the fight in his eyes dimming to embers. He glanced back at his guildmates, their expressions desperate, clinging to whatever hope remained. The weight of responsibility settled across his face, chipping away at the defiance that once defined him.
"I'll take the oath," he said at last, the words biting as if pulled from his throat by force.
A murmur of relief rippled through the room, though the air remained taut with anticipation. Jin's expression didn't change, but there was a subtle easing in the room, a sense that the storm had passed, at least for now.
"Smart choice," I said, keeping my voice neutral, concealing the surge of triumph that threatened to break through. This was the key step in integrating Myrkwrought into Noctalis, securing not just the artifact but their strategic influence as well.
The two Ascendant-rank guards stepped forward, dark mana coiling around their hands, ready to enforce the binding spell. Mana oaths were serious business—sacred and inescapable. Breaking one was tantamount to inviting death by self-implosion.
Veyron raised his chin, casting a final glance at me, eyes sharp with a mixture of resentment and grudging respect. "You've won this round, Arthur Nightingale," he muttered, his voice low enough for only me to hear. "But remember, those who play with power rarely find peace."
I met his gaze evenly, my smile faint and unfazed. "Peace was never my goal."
The binding ritual began, a circle of dark and silver light weaving around us as the guards began signing the mana oath. Threads of mana wrapped around Veyron and his guild members, each strand shimmering with an eerie glow, sealing their allegiance to me. The magic settled with a quiet hum, the oath now an unbreakable bond.
The ritual completed, Veyron's face was a mask of defeat but also a subtle, newfound curiosity. Perhaps he realized that this wasn't just a loss; it was the beginning of something else entirely.
Jin stepped forward, his arms crossed, surveying the scene with a satisfied nod. "With this, Noctalis grows stronger," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of conviction and victory.
"We still have a long way to go," I said, exhaling deeply. "But bringing Myrkwrought into our fold is a significant step."
"So, Veyron will stay on as the figurehead?" Jin asked, crossing his arms as he glanced at the subdued guild master, now resigned to his fate.
I nodded. "Yes, he's still a 7-star rank, and it fits. He knows the ropes, and his experience as Guild Master will be invaluable. We can't afford to micromanage every detail when we've got bigger mountains to climb."
Jin's eyes met mine, his expression one of understanding and agreement. He knew as well as I did that while absorbing Myrkwrought was a win, it was just a piece of a far larger puzzle. The real challenge would be sustaining and expanding Noctalis' influence while maintaining a veneer of subtlety. Making big moves too soon, before I'd passed the Wall and reached Ascendant-rank, would be reckless.
"Slow and steady growth," Jin echoed, a small smirk playing on his lips. "That's not your usual style, Arthur."
"Maybe not," I replied, allowing a slight smile of my own. "But until we're ready to shake the foundations, patience is our strongest ally."
The room, though quiet now, seemed to hum with an undercurrent of something new—an anticipation, a shift. The binding ritual had sealed more than just the loyalty of a once-proud guild; it had signaled the beginning of a strategy that would change the landscape of power. Veyron, now a reluctant ally, glanced over at us, his eyes shadowed with both defeat and intrigue. He understood, perhaps too well, that this was not the end but the prologue to a far greater tale.
"Let's move forward," I said, the weight of responsibility and ambition interwoven in my voice. "This is only the beginning."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone