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The auction was held in a suspiciously plain building. It could've been a tavern, an inn or even a multi-floored apartment complex back on Earth. In reality, it was a simple rectangular building in a place with no street signs. Just abandoned buildings and auspicious alleyways.

When the carriage stopped, the driver spoke through the window slip, "We're here, Masters."

"Thank you." I said automatically.

There was a slight pause and just for the slightest of moments, I thought I'd get a reply.

Instead, the door to the carriage opened. "Please enjoy your time here."

I looked at the human-servant, marked as a Slave by the golden collar around his neck. The collar was etched with the emblem of the Akka Xaluds, marking him as someone from Jared's house.

"Lock, let's go." Kyrian muttered.

The street was empty of all civilians at first glance.

"This is weird." Stole crinkled her nose.

"What is?" I asked.

"It's like people are here… but not here?" Stole looked around, her wolf-ears swiveling to pick up the slightest of sounds.

"It's an Auction," Kyrian explained for the inexperienced Stole, "What you are picking up are traces of people hiding their presence. The footprints, their smell… whatever Core they can employ to hide the fact that they were here."

"Oh." Stole sniffed again. "It's weird."

"Lass… how old are you?" Doror said, looking at Stole closely.

"Alright, enough. We're going." I said.

No need for Doror to find out more than he needed about Stole, especially the fact that she was an underaged Adventurer. Ever since we left that monster-infested island, he'd been growing this grandfatherly presence. This didn't need to become another issue.

We walked to the building while Kyrian mumbled a spell under his breath.

"A spell, to hide as much of our presence as possible." Kyrian answered Stole's quizzical look.

"Oh, I didn't know you could do that." Stole sniffed. "Huh… it's actually faint now."

Aurora moved first, knocking on the door.

There was the sound of a latch being undone and a metal plate slid over to the side. A pair of eyes peeked through. "Invitation?"

For a split second, I thought about stabbing my hands through the hole, grabbing his skull by the eye sockets and breaking the door open from the inside out using his head.

'...The Cores are getting to me.' I shook my head, shooing the unwanted thoughts away. "Here." I said instead, handing Aurora the black card that I got from Bright-Ear.

The card disappeared and reappeared through the slot a split second later, followed by the door swinging wide open.

But when we entered no one was there.

"Wha-what?" Stole looked around, sniffing the air. "What? He disappeared. I just smelt him. I didn't hear a thing! Where'd he go?"

Skaris gave me a knowing look. "Dangeroussss." He whispered.

"Yeah." I agreed, just as quiet.

Whoever these guys were, they were using someone high-leveled enough to have enough Cores to evade Stole's detection. And they were using that guy as a common guard watching the freaking door, not the merchandise.

Another painful reminder that although it felt like I'd gotten strong, I was still just a big fish in a small pond.

'The world just got a lot bigger.'

The inside of the building wasn't like the outside. The hall that greeted us was lush with red carpets and rich mahogany. On either side of the walls were dozens of doors that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Just as Stole was about to go digging around, a door opened up in thin-air.

The man who stepped out of it had purple hair, slicked back into a stylish pomade. He wore the MSS version of a suit, all loose lavender satin and sharp collars; the angularity of his entire look made complete by the pointed elf-ears. He bowed at the waist.

"Mr. Slaveborn and Party. I've been waiting for you." He looked up, his eyes were mere slits in the soft glow of candles.

"...A Mage?" Kyrian mummured.

"Ah, Magus Tricilan. Your reputation precedes you." The elf cleared his throat, introducing himself. "Polattle Grantuitous, from the Guimung Tower. Please, call me Pol."

"What's the Babel Tower doing here?" I blurted.

"Poignant and sharp, as rumored." The elf –Pol– smiled, all snake-oil and grease. "The talents of a Mage are many, and the needs of such talents are as numerous as the stars in the sky. Not all of us choose to follow the path of Adventure."

"So you chose to work at the Black Market?" Stole's statement was without malice, something only someone her age could do.

"Let's just say I work for a Third Party, whose services are hired out at various functions such as these to ensure that our guests are safe, secure and well-guided." He winked at Stole.

"Merssscenary." Skaris scoffed.

"One may say that, yes." Pol looked to Doror. "My guild prefers the term, Guide."

The Adventurer's Guild isn't the only Guild in MSS. Far from it. Merchants, Mercenaries… and whatever guild this elf climbed out of. And if he could use the [Door] spell just like that… this guy was leagues ahead of us in terms of level. Probably close to Arione, or right below him.

'Fucking mages.'

Another person who served as a reminder that there were still strong people hidden all throughout MSS.

"Right then, if we are all done with questions, please. Come this way."

Pol started leading us down the hallway, turning sharply on his heel to one of the doors and opening it for us. It led down a smaller hallway. Instead of candles, it was lit with soft glowing [Mage Lights]. Small orbs of pure light used in expeditions.

"I see that you brought your own items for sale. Would you have a need for an [Authenticator]'s services?"

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I nodded, trying to remember where I was stepping on. It was near impossible. Too many turns. This wasn't about seeing or hearing, it was about a sense of direction. Even a [Wayfinder] like Stole would be hard pressed to find the way out of this place.

Pol must've taken my silence as worry. "I assure you, Mr. Slaveborn. Our [Authenticators] are hired straight from the [Authenticator Guilds], to ensure fairness in pricing. Not only that, for all the items that they authenticate, they get paid a commission. So if you were worried that our in-house [Authenticators] were working for the House, you can lay those worries to rest."

"I'm not worried." I nodded to Aurora. "Just a forewarning, one of our own has an Authenticator License."

"Ah, is that true, Ms. Vetilian?"

Aurora nodded.

"May I inquire what level?"

"Two. Validated by both the Merchant's Guild and the Authenticator Guild." Aurora answered.

"Impressive!" Pol clapped, seemingly delighted. "A reputable Shielder in a powerful party with an Authenticator License to boot… if you ever need a job, my Guild would be very interested in someone of your talents."

Aurora's face showed no expression but I could tell she was slightly annoyed.

It did raise some questions though. I never gave much thought to Aurora's Authenticator License. I just thought it was something handy for adventurers to have. But looking at it like this… maybe it was just Aurora's way of trying to survive in this world.

'It's entirely possible she had trouble finding a party after leaving Turina, especially as a Bastard.'

Which proves just how little I actually know the details about Aurora's life.

Before I could delve into another spiral of guilty thoughts, Pol stopped in front of a deadend. He chanted under his breath, pressed his gloved hand on the wall. Immediately, faint runes began to give off light before the wall disappeared entirely.

Stole whistled. "Fancy."

I had to agree.

It was one of those suite rooms that you only see on TV, reserved for the rich. Stole immediately ran in, checking the side where the entire wall was made up of windows.

"They cannot see us from outside." Pol commented.

The room was large enough to be a medium-sized lounge. There was a table stacked with drinks, fresh fruit, cheese and bread on the corner. A second table lay next to it, with cards, dice and ivory –all meant for gambling. A third table lay on the opposite side of the room and Doror promptly walked over to it, laying the briefcases there.

"Snacks and entertainment. That table is for sale purposes, both for purchases and any of your own that you might wish to put up for auction." Pol then pointed to the center, "There is an enchantment in the room so that whatever you bid can be heard by the Auctioneer and vice-versa."

The center that he pointed to had chairs set up in a semicircle, all facing the windows.

"How many rooms are there like this?" I asked, watching Doror and Aurora set up.

"That's confidential." Pol answered with another wink, "Now if you will excuse me, I will be bringing along the [Authenticator]."

"Wait, before you go," Pol stopped to look at me, his expression both pleasant and inquisitive, "Is there a brochure? A list of the items going on sale today."

"Ah, no." Pol smiled, "I'm afraid this particular auction doesn't offer such things. Then, I'll be right back." Instead of using the [Door] spell, he left the regular way.

"Pleasant enough." Kyrian commented.

"You ssssay that becaussssse he issss a mage." Skaris rubbed his arms. "He isssss like a ssssnake-kin. Ssssliperry."

"Never did like elves, did you?" I said dryly, thinking of Lety.

"Feh." He immediately went over to the snack table and eating by the fistful.

"So Lock, what do you think?" Kyrian took a seat near me.

Taking a seat next to him, "I think we're at the right place."

One of the problems with Bright-Ear's card had been that it was good for every auction. And since I didn't want to ask Zenom to introduce me to his Broker anymore… Kyrian and Aurora had used the information they gathered to find the auction that was most likely to have the things we were looking for. Lucrative Cores, high-grade Gear and other rare items that offered utility.

"The fact that they don't have a catalog is a good sign." I finished.

Pol appeared a moment later, with a hooded man in tow.

"Hello, you may call me Twenty-Two." The hooded man introduced himself. Under the hood, the gleam of a monocle plus the abacus tucked underneath one arm marked him as an Authenticator even before he finished introducing himself. "I'm sorry but this is an extremely busy night. May I see the items right away?"

"That way." I pointed towards Doror's table. Twenty-Two walked over, speaking in hushed tones with Doror and Aurora.

"It doesn't seem very busy from here." Kyrian noted the room downstairs for general admission. It wasn't even halfway full.

"Oh, it will fill up. Of that, I assure you. The Free Trader's League gets guests from all over the continent." Pol smiled, "And much like yourselves, there are other VIP guests in attendance."

"Anyone we know?" Kyrian ventured.

"Ah, ah, ah," Pol wagged his finger like one would at a naughty child, "Surely you didn't think such a simple question would get me to slip up and reveal the name of our guests in attendance?"

"Jared Akka Xalud probably has a representative here." I said.

Just for a second, for a split second, Pol's smile froze in place. I'm not good at reading people, but I did notice because my Cores identified that second as an instance of weakness that I could have capitalized on to kill him. Or try to, anyways.

"So he's here." I confirmed.

"Makes sense." Kyrian agreed.

Pol didn't say anything, but his eyes grew even thinner. "Rumors don't do you justice, Mr. Slaveborn."

"Mind if you tell me some of the rumors?" I wasn't sure if he would answer, but it was worth a try.

To my surprise, Pol began rapid firing facts.

"Survivor of the Samak Massacre, made all the more impressive by the fact that you were a Slave at the time. Apologies, if that offends you."

I shrugged, motioning for him to continue.

"You immediately founded your own party in Miltus, whose first expedition was in a Fracture. Through this Fracture, you recruited Ms. Vetilian. Additionally, yours was the only party to come out with every member intact." He continued, checking my expression with each word, "Afterwards, you were personally recommended to Zenom Saintred for his mission, much of which is under wraps."

"Rumors also have it that you single-handedly crushed the Scavenger Clan in Miltus." He added.

"You also wield [Aura]. One of the few adventurers, a number that can be counted on one-hand, that can wield [Aura] without being associated with Turina in anyway." He smiled at me. "Speaking of Nations... some believe that you have a close-relationship with Orcs, not just the Samak but the Uleum Horde to the North. Some claim that they saw you use an Orc Blessing, which is nonsense to anyone who takes the moment to divide truth from fiction. Most theorize that you were most likely gifted a Core that imitates their ability, evidence that lends credibility to your relationship with the various Orc tribes."

"Recently, you bested War Prince Jared's second-in-command in a straight duel. If tales are to be believed, it was nowhere near close. They say that your decision-making skills as well as your knowledge of monsters are second to none. Further evidenced by the fact that you apparently handpick Cores for your party-members; something of a rarity in adventurers."

"I thought every party did it like that." Stole joined the conversation.

"Oh, it happens, but it is a rarity." Pol nodded, smiling, "It usually happens among the Royal Families of Turina. Especially among War Princes and other celebrated Scions. They bestow Cores upon their inner-circle that best complements their own fighting-style. Among regular adventuring parties, it is rare."

"Why?" Stole asked.

"It requires an in-depth knowledge of Cores. It would take a regular adventurer years before they gain enough experience and gold to know enough about Cores to even start giving advice. Not only that, it requires absolute trust from the person who's taking the Core." Pol rubbed his chin. "Both a blessing and a curse. For human adventurers, it is a near impossibility, unless they come from a reputable family that have been logging details about Cores for generations. It is more common among Elven and Dwarven Adventurers, whose long-lived lives ensure that information about Cores could be passed down more accurately."

"You are very talented man, Mr. Slaveborn." Pol finished.

…I was glad he stopped talking right there and then.

I'd done too many things out of the ordinary and more people knew about me than I thought. It didn't take much to put two and two together to figure out that I was a [Player] anymore.

Kyrian squirmed, a little uncomfortable.

Pol kept staring at me, still smiling.

...Dangerous. Pol wasn't like the other Mages I met. He wasn't just dangerous in a way that Fire, Lightning and Hurricanes were. He was dangerous in the way that snakes are, underfoot in the grass. Or dangerous the same way that serial killers were... hiding and watching from corners. Studying you.

He knew too much. Or his Guild.

…Whatever Guild Pol belonged to, I needed to find out more about it. Whenever this godforsaken quest for Claw's Nest ended.

It was Twenty-Two who broke the uncomfortable silence.

"P-Pol!"

Pol's gaze snappd to Twenty-Two. Naturally, when he began to walk over, the rest of us joined him. Even Skaris.

Twenty-Two had set the Dimension Ring containing my loot from the Scavenger's Hideout to the side. Instead, he was only focused on the two briefcases open before him.

"Pol!" He repeated.

"These are beautiful." Pol gasped, his smile melting into genuine awe.

Doror puffed out his chest. "I told ye." He said, mostly aimed at me.

"You forged these, Master Doror?" Pol ventured.

"I-"

"Family Heirlooms." I answered for Doror.

Pol nodded, his eyes glued to the Greaves and Daggers. If he noticed me answering for Doror, he didn't show it. If anything, he was mesmerized by Doror's goods.

"What grading are they?" Pol asked.

"That's what I was trying to tell you." The Authenticator gasped. "These are [Legendaries]."

Pol froze. "...[Legendaries]?"

"Legendaries! Dwarven-made!" Twenty-Two answered. "And not only that… They're both [Pluralities]! To each other!"

Doror made Pluralities.

Set Items.

Two [Legendary]-Class Items belonging to the same Set.

…By the fucking Forge.

I was going to be fucking rich.

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