Charisma 100: My Academy Life As A Heartbreaking Commoner-Chapter 169: Summer Auction 2

The Master of Ceremonies raised his hands, and the hall fell silent.

"The Summer Auction shall proceed in three phases," he announced. "First, the Offerings Phase, where noble houses present their contributions to Valdria’s prosperity. Second, the Judgment Phase, where attendees evaluate each offering through our sacred voting tokens. And finally, the Midnight Waltz, where we celebrate our traditions of courtship and alliance."

He gestured to a table near the platform, where dozens of small crystal tokens sat arranged in neat rows.

"Each voting noble has been provided with an enchanted token. When an offering is complete, you may vote by channeling your intent into the crystal. Green indicates approval. Red indicates disapproval. The intensity of your conviction will determine the brightness of your vote."

Aegis glanced around the room. Nobles were already fingering their tokens, some calculating, others barely bothering to hide their boredom.

[So it’s not just yes or no. There’s actually an enthusiasm factor to how you vote. That’s actually clever—it measures genuine support versus polite applause. The game never explained the auction with this level of detail.]

"Let us begin," the Master declared. "First offering: Lord Percival Whitbury of House Whitbury."

A portly man in formalwear that was way too tight stepped forward, servants carrying a large covered canvas behind him.

"Honored guests, I present to you—The Fall of the Shadow."

The cloth fell away, revealing an oil painting easily ten feet tall. Armored knights charging against a dark figure wreathed in shadows, light breaking through storm clouds above. Standard heroic fantasy stuff, but well-executed.

"Commissioned from the master painter Alberic Voss," Lord Whitbury continued, "this piece captures the legendary final battle of Queen Rosanna’s campaign. The pigments include crushed sapphire for the sky and actual gold leaf for the divine light."

The crowd murmured appreciatively.

Voting began. Tokens glowed throughout the room—mostly green, with varying intensities. A few scattered reds from nobles who apparently had beef with Lord Whitbury or just hated art.

[Solid opening. Sets a decent bar without being overwhelming.]

The Master of Ceremonies recorded the results in a ledger, then called the next presenter.

"Second offering: Lady Meridia Korrath of House Korrath."

A severe-looking woman in black strode forward, flanked by two servants carrying a long wooden case.

"House Korrath presents the Frostbane Glaive."

She opened the case, revealing a wickedly curved polearm with a blade that shimmered pale blue. Cold mist rolled off the metal, pooling around the servants’ feet.

[Okay, that’s cool.]

"Forged in the Northern Reaches using techniques lost to modern smiths. The blade permanently carries a freezing enchantment capable of shattering steel. A weapon worthy of Valdria’s finest warriors."

More murmurs. More voting. The greens were brighter this time—enchanted weapon beats painting, apparently.

Aegis made mental notes.

[Art sets the floor. Enchanted items raise it. What does Cindergrave have that tops both?]

She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

After two more presentations—a rare musical performance and a collection of ancient texts—Darius Goldspire took the stage.

He looked every inch the perfect noble. Golden hair swept back, formal attire immaculate, smile calibrated to charm without seeming sycophantic. Talia stood beside him, her expression frozen.

"Honored guests," Darius began, "House Goldspire has long served as guardians of Valdria’s history. Tonight, I present a piece of that history."

Servants carried forward a glass case containing a sword. Even from across the room, Aegis could feel the power radiating from it. Her skin prickled.

"The Dawnbringer. Wielded by Sir Alcharis Goldspire during the Unification Wars. It has rested in our family vault for three hundred years." He paused for effect. "Tonight, I offer it to the Valdrian National Archive, so that all citizens may appreciate our shared heritage."

The crowd erupted.

Applause, excited chatter, nobles leaning forward to get a better look. The Dawnbringer was legendary—Aegis remembered it from the game’s lore entries. A blade blessed by the Church of the Divine Light, said to burn with holy fire when wielded against true evil.

[Donating a priceless family heirloom to a museum. That’s not generosity—that’s buying goodwill with his ancestors’ achievements. Smart bastard.]

Voting tokens blazed green throughout the room. Bright, enthusiastic, almost unanimous.

Darius smiled, accepting the adulation like it was his birthright.

Beside him, Talia’s jaw was tight. Her eyes found Aegis across the room, and for a moment, her mask cracked. Misery. Pure, undisguised misery at having to stand there and play the supportive bride-to-be while Darius bathed in glory.

[Hang in there, princess. I’m coming.]

Serilla leaned close, her breath warm against Aegis’s ear.

"Goldspire’s good. Better than I expected."

"He’s a politician. Every move is calculated."

"And that bothers you?"

"Not at all. I’d feel insulted if he committed any less effort."

The presentations continued. Minor houses offered minor contributions—quality vintages, skilled servants, land grants. The crowd’s enthusiasm waxed and waned.

Then Cindergrave took the stage.

The old Duke moved with the confidence of a man who had never been told no in his entire life. His faction—still sizable despite Serilla’s sabotage—sat straighter, tokens at the ready.

"My fellow nobles," Cindergrave began, his voice carrying that particular tone of practiced condescension that made Aegis want to punch him. "House Cindergrave has served Valdria for seventeen generations. We have seen empires rise and fall. We have weathered wars, plagues, and the occasional... disruption to the natural order."

His eyes flicked toward Aegis.

[Yeah, I caught that, you wrinkly fuck.]

"Tonight, I present something truly rare."

Servants wheeled forward a pedestal covered in black velvet. Cindergrave lifted the cloth with theatrical flair.

Sitting on the pedestal was a gemstone the size of Aegis’s fist. It pulsed with deep purple light shooting through veins of gold.

"The Heart of Valdria," Cindergrave announced. "A legendary spirit stone, mined from the depths of the Starfall Mountains over four hundred years ago. There are only three known to exist in the world. This one has been in my family’s possession for twelve generations."

Gasps. Whispered exclamations. Nobles craning their necks.

[Shit. That’s actually impressive.]

"Spirit stones of this caliber can power enchantments for centuries," Cindergrave continued, clearly enjoying himself. "They can fuel protective wards for entire estates. They can amplify magical abilities tenfold." He smiled. "House Cindergrave offers this treasure to be displayed at the Royal Palace, where it may serve as a symbol of Valdria’s enduring greatness."

The voting was overwhelming.

Green lights blazed throughout the room. Bright, fervent, almost blinding. Cindergrave’s faction led the charge, their tokens glowing like small suns, but even neutral nobles joined in. The Heart of Valdris was simply too impressive to deny.

Cindergrave stepped back, basking.

His eyes found Aegis again, and this time he didn’t bother hiding his smirk.

[Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your moment, old man. It won’t last.]

The Master of Ceremonies called for an intermission.

Servants circulated with fresh drinks. Nobles clustered into groups, discussing the offerings, probably placing side bets on who would win.

Lady Cassandra appeared at Aegis’s elbow.

"We have a problem."

"Cindergrave’s bloc?"

"Larger than my sources indicated. He must have secured additional commitments in the past few days." Cassandra’s expression was tight. "Combined with his offering’s reception, he’s positioned to dominate the final judgment. Unless you can present something truly spectacular..."

"I understand."

"Do you?" Cassandra’s eyes were sharp. "This isn’t a game, Lady Starcaller. If Cindergrave’s faction rates your offering poorly enough, it won’t matter how good it actually is. The public perception will be that you failed. That House Starcaller isn’t ready for proper nobility."

"Lady Cassandra." Aegis met her gaze. "I said I understand."

Cassandra studied her for a moment, then nodded.

"I hope so. For both our sakes."

She melted back into the crowd.

Serilla materialized seconds later, pulling Aegis toward a quieter corner near one of the marble columns.

"Alright, what’s the plan?"

Aegis grabbed a glass of wine from a passing servant.

"What do you mean?"

"Don’t play coy. I saw your face during Cindergrave’s presentation. You weren’t worried." Serilla’s eyes narrowed. "Which means you’ve got something. So spill."

Aegis smiled and raised the wine glass to Serilla’s lips.

"Drink."

Serilla raised an eyebrow but accepted, letting Aegis tip the glass for her. A drop of red wine trailed down her chin. Aegis wiped it away with her thumb.

"I’m not trying to beat Cindergrave at his own game," Aegis said quietly. "He’s got more money, more history, more political weight. If I try to out-impress him with raw value, I lose."

"Then what?"

"I change the game." Aegis set the glass aside. "Cindergrave presented a treasure. Goldspire presented an heirloom. Everyone’s been presenting things—objects, possessions, wealth. They’re showing off what they have."

"And you?"

"I’m going to show them what I can be."

Serilla’s expression shifted. The calculating sharpness softened into something else. Something hungrier.

"You really are different, aren’t you?"

"Is that a compliment?"

"It’s me being turned on." Serilla reached up, adjusting Aegis’s collar, fingers lingering on her neck. "Don’t fuck this up. I have plans for you after the Waltz."

"What kind of plans?"

"The kind where you’re on your back and I’m—"

The chime rang, cutting her off.

Serilla smiled sweetly.

"Guess you’ll have to wait and find out."

[This woman is going to kill me.]

Nobles returned to their seats. The Master of Ceremonies took his position on the platform, consulting his ledger.

"We shall now continue with the Offerings Phase. Next presentation..."

He paused, and Aegis felt the weight of the moment settle onto her shoulders.

"Lady Aegis Starcaller of the newly registered House Starcaller."

Whispers erupted.

Cindergrave leaned forward, smirking.

Talia’s eyes found hers across the room, wide with concern.

Serilla squeezed her hand once, then let go.

Aegis stood.

[Alright. Let’s show these nobles what a former commoner can do.]