Lord of the Truth-Chapter 1351: Ending of the grand auction

"...Congratulations on acquiring the Breath of the Ages Martial Art, at the monumental price of 12 billion Pearls!"

Lord Morval presented a smile that was more ceremonial than sincere as he glanced at Drathan. Then, raising both hands theatrically toward the audience, he proclaimed,

"With this, we officially conclude today’s auction. Thank you all for your presence!"

An explosion of noise followed.

Voices overlapped in waves of excitement, awe, and admiration.

"Ha-ha! Congratulations, Lord Drathan!"

"No one else could’ve earned that art. It was always meant for you."

"A new record, without a doubt! Only someone like you could push the price that far, Lord Drathan—haha!"

Even though the auction was declared over, not a single soul pulled out yet.

The entire plaza remained frozen in a strange, electric suspension.

Some of the elites seated among the clouds stepped forward to personally congratulate Lord Drathan.

Meanwhile, guests in the lower sections buzzed with hushed conversation, whispering like scholars after a revelation, dissecting every detail of today’s spectacle.

Because today... had been no ordinary auction.

The events were staggering, one shock after another.

The sudden reveal of a Galaxy Seed in Lord Hedrick’s possession.

The crackling tension between him and Lord Zarion.

And not just him—also between him and the mysterious Lord Human, whose wealth had surpassed every imagination.

A new price record shattered for an S-Class artifact...

Then another, even higher, for a Fifth-Rank Martial Art...

And the greatest twist of all—the announcement that the Sixth Great Truth Chosen was drawing near.

Even if everyone here stayed the entire night, talking non-stop... it still wouldn’t be enough to unpack everything that had happened.

And surprisingly, the Soul Society made no attempts to disperse the audience. On the contrary, dozens of radiant fairies descended into the plaza like falling petals, soothing the atmosphere with grace. They set up tables, summoned comfortable lounges, offered refreshments—everything to make the attendees feel welcome to stay longer.

"...Elinor. Let’s leave."

Rinara’s voice was calm, her tone cool like someone who’d already weighed all consequences.

"Just like that? Shouldn’t we go down and congratulate our little friend?"

Elinor didn’t look convinced. In fact, she took a step forward, as if her instincts were pulling her toward the crowd.

"No. If we approach him now, from the middle of this ocean of people, it’ll raise suspicion. If he pretends not to know us, we’ll be humiliated. If he acknowledges us, the consequences might be even worse."

Rinara’s head swayed from side to side.

"We don’t know anyone named Human. Erase the name from your mind. But... we will reach out to our dear Robin soon. That, I promise. Now let’s go."

And with that final note, Rinara’s avatar shimmered and faded into the air, as though she had never been there.

"Heh~"

Elinor gave a cute, momentary pout. But then her expression slowly twisted into a mischievous smile.

"Yes... we definitely need to speak with our little friend soon."

And she too vanished, her presence swallowed up behind her sister’s.

"...."

In a quiet corner of the arena, the old man with the dog’s head slowly raised his tired eyes toward Cloud No. 100.

The folds of age made it hard to keep his eyelids open, but his gaze—despite the years—was sharp. Piercing. Even unsettling.

He stared for a full minute without blinking. Then, at last, his stern face softened, and a low chuckle rumbled from his throat.

"Hohoho... well then... that settles it.

The metal-faced man wasn’t bluffing with that threat. We better cover our backs while we still can—hmm?"

He turned to his side, expecting a reply.

But the spot beside him was now... empty.

The spiked-head had vanished.

"Hmm. Looks like his pride took a blow... Young blood is always volatile. Let’s hope he doesn’t do something reckless, heh~"

The old man sighed, then slowly tilted his head, giving a final wave before he too disappeared.

Ba-dump.

Robin’s heart thundered like a war drum inside his chest.

The cheering crowds, the thunderous applause, the congratulations for Lord Drathan—all of it had faded into background noise.

To him, the world had gone silent.

Because right now, he was struggling to breathe.

"Hooooh~"

He let out a long exhale, as if trying to breathe the weight off his shoulders, trying to ground himself, stabilize his trembling mind.

But nothing worked. He was completely overwhelmed.

Twelve billion Pearls.

Twelve...

Billion...

Pearls.

For a martial art that he himself had created in just a few years!

<Lord Human, is everything truly alright?>

The spirit fairy floated gently in a slow arc around him, her small wings humming softly as she observed him with a mix of concern and curiosity.

"....."

Robin finally looked up. His eyes, dark and sharp, radiated a cold intensity.

"Four hundred million Pearls... Really?"

His voice was low, clipped, and clearly bitter.

<W-Wait a second! Are you seriously assuming that THIS is the standard price for a Fifth-Stage martial art?>

The fairy’s calm demeanor faltered as she flitted back half a meter in surprise.

<What happened today... was an extreme outlier! An anomaly in every sense of the word!>

"Anomaly? So you’re saying the entire crowd just woke up this morning and decided to hand charity money to ’poor little Human’ to improve his lifestyle?"

Robin’s sarcasm was biting, and he punctuated his remark with a scoff, shaking his head as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or fume.

The fairy raised one glowing finger, regaining her composure.

<Several unpredictable variables aligned today in your favor. In my humble opinion, fate—or perhaps something greater—was especially generous with you.>

She floated a little closer, speaking in a more deliberate tone.

<The actual estimated market value of your martial art? Somewhere around 4.5 billion Pearls. And that’s already a high estimate, based solely on its foundation in Major fundamental laws. But everything beyond that figure? That was pure luck—or maybe divine orchestration.>

She leaned in slightly, as if about to reveal a sacred secret.

<First stroke of luck: Lord Hedrick. The moment he entered the bidding, the price jumped to double its expected value. He wasn’t in his right mind—something from his past clouded his judgment, pushing him to act out of emotion instead of logic.>

"...."

Robin nodded slowly, his gaze softening a fraction.

Yes, he had seen the flicker of hesitation—of vulnerability—in Lord Hedrick’s eyes.

The fairy lifted a second finger.

<Second: the entry of Lord Morval. He never intended to evaluate your martial art on its merit. He planned to purchase it no matter what the cost. Not because of its potential in combat, but because of its value as a commodity. This is, after all, the first published Fifth-Stage Martial Art of the man whispered to be the next Great Truth Chosen—Robin Burton. If preserved carefully, it might one day be auctioned for hundreds of billions.>

"....."

Robin’s pupils widened, his breath catching slightly.

For just a second, he was genuinely speechless.

The fairy floated upward, her tone lowering into something more confidential.

<Third point—and it’s a big one. Sadly, Lord Morval had no choice but to reveal your identity as the technique’s creator. It was the only way to counter Lord Drathan’s vile accusation. And with that revelation, a shared thought took root among the nobles present: "We must at least appear supportive of Lord Human. Whether by bidding or by praise, we must show respect.">

"..."

Robin’s brow furrowed deeply.

To think that all those titanic figures were playing a diplomatic game... centered on him?

He suddenly felt the weight of a thousand invisible eyes bearing down on his name.

Her tone darkened ever so slightly.

<Plus, The competitive tension between the Soul Society and the Tyrant Galaxy reached a peak today. Lord Drathan had just insulted the Soul Society publicly. Then suddenly, everyone else began bidding—and his pride couldn’t allow that to stand. He was forced to win the art, no matter the cost, just to save face.>

<And that is precisely why Lord Morval stepped aside. For your sake.>

She crossed her arms, hovering level with Robin’s chest.

<He understood the danger. Better to let a proud man like Drathan walk away with his dignity intact, smiling, blessed by the crowd... than let him leave defeated, with his rage festering and his eyes seeking vengeance.>

"..."

Robin inhaled slowly, absorbing the avalanche of information. Then, he raised his eyes and gave her a sideways glare.

"Let me guess... Lord Morval asked you to feed me all this, didn’t he?"

<Hehe~ Maybe.>

The fairy spun in place, twirling in a playful circle as sparkles of soul energy trailed her.

Just then, a new voice echoed from the side:

"Congratulations on your win, Lord Human."

"Hmm?"

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