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A World Unwritten

Stuck in the worst dream possible – the reality of my own creation. Here I am, not the all-powerful author, but an unsuspecting character, woken up in a beggar's body in the world of my own novel. How? Why? I don't know, but what I do know is that I need to survive. My memories of the story's plot are sketchy at best, but I remember enough to know I've got to stick to the main storyline. Life-or-death decisions, cryptic mysteries, formidable enemies, I wrote them all. Now I must face them firsthand. The irony would be delicious if it weren't so deadly. Am I stuck in my worst nightmare or have I been given a chance to rewrite my destiny? Only time will tell. Until then, I’ve got to survive in this Insane world, a plot to follow, and one hell of a story to write... by living it.

QTV · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
348 Chs

Auction Part Eight

Kael, struggling to regain his composure, takes several deep breaths. 'Oh shit,' he thinks to himself, stepping back slightly. He subtly hides one trembling hand behind his back while holding the Dragon's Eye Sniper with the other, trying not to show his shaken state to the crowd.

At that moment, the room's tension escalates as multiple individuals stand up from their seats. One of them, shedding their cloak, reveals themselves to be Emperor Julius Aurelius. He is a striking figure, with flowing golden hair and piercing blue eyes that command attention. "Anyone that bids against me will be an enemy of the Aurelian Empire!" he declares, his gaze sharp as it sweeps across the room. 'This weapon will reinstate our kingdom as a world power. I cannot let this opportunity slip away,' he thinks, his determination clear.

Another figure rises, casting off their cloak. It's King Dáin Ironfoot, the stout and sturdy dwarf king, his fiery red beard and deep green eyes reflecting his strong-willed nature. He glares up at Julius, a look of disdain on his face. "A money-driven, gold-greedy kingdom like yours needs to back off. It's only fair a weapon like this is taken by me for research purposes. Step aside, you human magpie!" he retorts. 'These humans have no appreciation for true craftsmanship. This marvel must have been forged by dwarven hands,' he muses confidently.

Suddenly, another cloaked figure steps forward, his large, imposing form unmistakably that of Ugroth, the orc. His red skin and muscular build, combined with his intense, glaring eyes, make him an intimidating presence. "It's mine. You weaklings have no right to it. You," he points at Kael, his voice cold and commanding, "I'll give you one of my mountains for it." His demand leaves no room for negotiation, asserting his authority and desire for the weapon.

Amidst the growing tension, laughter erupts from another figure still seated. "Kahaha HAHAHA..." The laughter belongs to none other than King Grotusk of the Hogblin Kingdom. He nonchalantly removes his cloak, revealing his green skin, adorned in extravagant jewelry and finely tailored clothes that exude a mix of opulence and a unique, clean style. His appearance is an enigma, as he seems both young and aged simultaneously. Standing up, he faces the massive orc, hands in his pockets. "Back off, this one's mine," he says with a spin, his eyes playfully scanning the room. His demeanor is relaxed yet assertive, marking him as a ruler not to be underestimated.

Ugroth grunts coldly, a typical orcish expression of contempt. "Hmmm," he rumbles, approaching Grotusk with a menacing stance. "You, do you seek death?" His voice is guttural, the threat unmistakable in his tone.

Grotusk, unfazed, grins with his hands still casually in his pockets. He leaps back onto his seat, flipping a platinum coin high into the air. It lands with a clink in front of Ugroth. "What? Hahahaha. This is an auction; it's settled with money," he chortles, his attitude nonchalant yet taunting.

Two hooded figures from the crowd start moving forward, sensing the escalating tension. Ugroth, however, steps closer, his imposing figure radiating intimidation. "No one is taking this but me," he declares firmly.

At this point, Kael intervenes, 'Hmmm... If I don't do something, hell's going to break loose.' realizing the situation is spiraling towards chaos. "This is unacceptable," he states in a cold, commanding voice. Suddenly, the room transforms. The ground, walls, and seats morph into sharp spikes, mere inches from everyone's body. Those who had moved find themselves encircled by these bladed threats.

Queen Celeste, observing from her seat, is taken aback. 'What is this? How can he manipulate everything like this?' Her strategic mind races. 'Everything... from the start, every element of this room has been under his control,' she concludes, her realization dawning with a mixture of awe and concern.

Kael, exuding confidence and control, approaches Ugroth and the others with his cane. Confronting Ugroth, he taps the orc's shoulder with his cane, causing the massive figure to fall to one knee. "I'll let go once," Kael says coldly, patting Ugroth's shoulder with a chilling calm. "Don't let it happen again."

The room shifts again at Kael's command, forcibly seating everyone back in their places. 'That was close. I'm surprised the cane worked on him. If it weren't for the seals, it might have broken with a single hit.'

Queen Celeste, her gaze fixed intently on Kael, ponders the unfolding situation. 'Just how strong is this Number Seven? His demeanor suggests superiority over us all. If he can so easily overpower others, just how formidable is he?' Her eyes shift upwards to a VIP room where a figure adorned with the number six on her mask sits motionless. 'Even during the weapon's demonstration, she remained utterly still,' Celeste notes, her curiosity piqued.

Kael, standing confidently on stage, addresses the audience. "Before we start the auction, allow me to share some crucial details." He raises his finger dramatically. "Remember, we will not be creating any more attachments or bullets for the Dragon's Eye Sniper. Should you acquire it, you are responsible for your actions."

He scans the room, ensuring every attendee feels the weight of his words. "Our weapons are uniquely designed and crafted by us. We strictly prohibit any attempts to research or replicate them without our express permission. Should you try to scan, dismantle, or apply engineering magic to any of them, they will self-destruct. This includes the Dragon's Eye Sniper." He taps the case of the sniper for emphasis.

King Dáin, unable to contain his frustration, speaks up from his seat. "That ain't fair, aye! Only a dwarf can craft such a weapon! As the king who represents all dwarfs, I demand the right to the blueprint," he asserts with a typical dwarven bluntness.

In response, Kael raises his finger, and spikes instantly surround the dwarf king. Speaking in a cold yet composed tone, Kael retorts, "I couldn't care less. No dwarf under your rule had a hand in making this." As the spikes morph back into their original form, he continues, "You are free to do as you wish with any weapons you purchase. My intention is merely to inform you of the consequences should you attempt to dissect our creations."

Kael's presence commands the room as he announces, "The bidding will not start today." Spinning his cane with a flourish, he revels in the anticipation of the crowd. 'Hmhmhmhm, let the games begin,' he muses inwardly. With a snap of his fingers, the lights dance dramatically around the room.

"Two sales," he declares, extending his arms to showcase the offerings. On one side, the formidable Dragon's Eye Sniper gleams under the spotlight; on the other, an array of guns are proudly displayed. "To participate in the sale of this," Kael says, tapping the case of the sniper, "a deposit of 50 thousand platinum coins is required. If you don't have coins, resources are acceptable." Behind his mask, Kael smirks, 'This deposit ensures only the truly committed will dare to bid.'

He then gestures towards the collection of guns. "Here's the deal. Purchasing weapons from us is conditional." He produces a magic contract. "This contract asserts that Aerolithia is ours. The land here is unclaimed, but we will take this cursed land for ourselves. By signing, your nation acknowledges our claim and agrees to prohibit your citizens from entering. In return, you gain the privilege of purchasing guns and ammunition directly from us."

Kael's cane thunders against the floor for emphasis. "We are auctioning priority access. Each rank has its own terms. For ranks E-B, four spots are available for highest priority, ten for second, and fifteen for third. A-rank weapons will be exclusively sold to Guilds willing to meet a 'special' deposit. S-rank weapons are available only upon request, and acceptance of such requests will vary. The deposit for S-ranks will be determined if the request is accepted. Remember, signing the contract is a prerequisite for any purchase."

Kael, brimming with confidence and cunning, observes the reactions of the rulers and dignitaries present. 'Hmhmhm, I made sure every human king and queen is here regardless of their wealth. They'll all want these weapons directly from us, avoiding the risks of third-party dealings. And Aerolithia, a land owned by no one, makes signing the contract a logical choice for them. The P.O.B. will inevitably sign as well, craving firepower for their ranks. Lilith, though... she might resist, but that's a conversation for another time.'

Queen Celeste, her brow furrowed in contemplation, mentally laments the situation. 'What a nuisance...' she thinks. 'This auction is deliberately complex. Grotusk is right, I'm going to need a loan from him. Unpalatable as it may be, he seems willing to cooperate.'

Lilith, lounging in her seat, sighs softly. 'Maximizing profits, indeed. Aerolithia might be overrun with zombies, but its vast landscapes are enticing. And this man... his insistence on anonymity is both frustrating and intriguing. What lies beneath that mask? He sure is boring.'

Before anyone in the audience can voice their thoughts or concerns, Kael decisively slams his cane on the ground. "Your words are meaningless, the conditions will not change," he declares firmly. With a snap of his fingers, attendants enter the room.

"Your assigned attendant will escort you to your room," Kael instructs the audience. "You will be teleported back and given exactly 24 hours to gather your wealth."

★ ★ ★

As the last of the attendees are escorted out, I stand there with the Dragon's Eye Sniper in hand. Ugh, I'm so tired... Walking to the back, I enter a secluded room, place the sniper against the wall, and quickly change into more comfortable clothes. Collapsing onto the couch, I let out a long, exhausted sigh. Uuuuuuuugh, that was so tiring...

Eira bursts into the room with her usual energy. "Hehehehee," she giggles, jumping onto my back as I lie on the couch. "Nice job, dude! I saw it all. Didn't get what you said at the end, but I heard 50 thousand platinum coins," she exclaims, her eyes practically turning into dollar signs.

There she goes again, obsessing over money. I roll my eyes and grumble, "How do you have the intelligence to create such a monstrous gun but can't understand basic economics?"

Eira just shrugs nonchalantly. "I don't care about that bullshit. I just want money~" Her enthusiasm for wealth never ceases to amaze me.

Yeah, yeah, I know that already, you money-loving freak. I can't complain, though. I'm no different than her.

Suddenly, Lysandra enters the room, yawning loudly. "I'm hungry..." she groans. It's a bit surprising she didn't react at all during the demonstration of the Dragon's Eye. Curious, I ask her, "Did that show bore you?"

Lysandra, still yawning, replies, "Yup, now feed me. I want spicy food."

I sigh, resigned. "Okay, okay, just give me a bit of time to rest." I'm tired of making sure every damn movement is perfect. It's annoying how all the hard work I put into my acting is seen as normal by those damn overpowered people. I need to get stronger... I groan inwardly.

As I'm about to relax, Zeke walks in, and I immediately stand up, unintentionally pushing Eira off and causing her to fall face-first to the ground. "Fuck you, Kael," she grumbles, standing up.

She deserved it. I think, feeling slightly vindicated. Finally, he brought it.

"Yo Zeke, you got it?" I ask, eager.

Zeke reaches into his bag and pulls out a cube about the size of Eira, the purple cube crackling with lightning and covered in rune-inscribed papers. Yes, yes! Let's go! 

"How did you know how to seal this?" Zeke asks, his grin malicious.

I yawn nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it. This thing is something we're going to use to control this land."

Eira, raising an eyebrow, questions, "How the hell can we control a forest? I'm not an elf, you know."

Lysandra nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're way too short."

Eira turns to her, visibly annoyed. "Watch your mouth, you little brat. I'm not afraid to give you a beating," she retorts, her temper flaring.

You guys understand basic economics, right?

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