Chapter 144 - 139: The Judicial Court’s Action
Velin gently pinched the Magic Potion between two fingers, making it glint alluringly in the candlelight.
"I believe its effects require no further introduction."
"A prohibition order stamped with the seal of the Judicial Court serves as its best instruction manual."
Velin’s voice was filled with unconcealed mockery.
"After all, something useless wouldn’t be worth the holy Church making such a fuss."
A wave of suppressed chuckles rippled through the audience.
"Now, let us begin. The starting bid is thirty Golden Suns."
The words had barely left his lips when a hoarse, impatient voice called out from a corner, a bidding paddle shooting straight up.
"Eighty Golden Suns!"
The price more than doubled in an instant.
A slight commotion immediately rippled through the crowd.
"One hundred and twenty!"
"One hundred and thirty!"
"Two hundred!"
The price climbed faster than anyone had anticipated.
Spurred on by the prohibition and emboldened by their anonymity, the nobles completely abandoned their usual composure.
Every bid was not merely a cry of desire, but also a small act of defiance against authority.
Ultimately, the first Magic Potion sold for two hundred Golden Suns—six times its public retail price!
Velin remained perfectly calm; this was all within his calculations.
The auction proceeded in an orderly fashion.
As the number of items dwindled, Velin deliberately slowed the pace, creating a sense of countdown-like urgency.
The atmosphere in the room grew more feverish, and the bids soared ever higher.
In the end, the twenty Magic Potions brought him a massive sum of over three thousand Golden Suns.
Even after deducting Count Leman’s cut, he was left with a net profit of nearly two thousand.
The top-tier effects and the thrill of the forbidden made the "Last Masquerade Auction" an open secret, a legend whispered among the most elite circles of the Royal Capital.
Over the next week, Velin followed the same formula, holding two more auctions.
Each time, the invitations were sent to a new group of nobles, never repeating. This was to maintain the Magic Potion’s scarcity. For the nobles who received an invitation, it was, in the truest sense, the "last" auction.
As a result, the atmosphere at every auction was fervent, and each one brought in a fortune.
Late one night, the third auction had just concluded.
Velin stood inside a decommissioned shipyard, counting the day’s earnings.
Lilia emerged from the shadows. She too wore a veil that revealed only her eyes, but her gaze was grave.
"Brother, something’s not right."
"What’s wrong?"
"I’ve cross-referenced the attendees from all three auctions, making notes on their voices and physiques." Lilia handed him a small booklet. "One person seems to have attended twice."
Velin’s brow furrowed slightly as he took the booklet. "Impossible. We never send invitations to the same guest twice."
"I found it strange, too," Lilia said, pointing to two entries in the booklet. "Number Seventeen from the first auction, and Number Thirty-Seven from tonight. Their builds, their postures, even their accents when bidding are very similar. What’s more, both times they purchased more than one Magic Potion. They’re incredibly wealthy."
She paused, then added a crucial piece of information.
"When he left, there was no sound of a carriage outside."
Velin’s expression darkened. To ensure anonymity, attendees left one at a time at staggered intervals. It would have been easy to tell whether this person had boarded a carriage after leaving.
Velin’s fingers tapped lightly on the booklet.
’A mysterious person who arrives on foot yet possesses such immense wealth... That’s not how a noble acts.’
He summoned a servant and had them lay out all the collected black invitation cards.
He had designed the cards himself.
The small silver dots along the edge, which appeared to be decorative, were actually Morse code.
He quickly found the invitation for Number Thirty-Seven.
Then he picked out the invitations of the few guests who had left after Number Thirty-Seven.
Velin stared at the codes, as if confirming something.
Then he hastily scribbled a few notes.
Once finished, he looked up and gave an order to Count Leman’s intelligence officer, who stood behind him.
"Send a letter to each of these nobles’ residences."
The intelligence officer acknowledged the order and departed.
Lilia looked puzzled but didn’t ask any questions.
Velin, meanwhile, looked up toward the coast, his eyes behind the mask growing deep and thoughtful.
...
「Royal Capital. Dawn.」
Viscount Ferrier’s mansion was still shrouded in the quiet of slumber.
But the Viscount himself was already awake.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching his wife sleeping soundly beside him. Her breathing was even, and a smile graced her lips as if she were lost in a pleasant dream.
They had no children.
They once had a son and a daughter, but both had died in childhood. He had been "trying" for years, but his body was failing him more and more.
It was a heavy weight upon his heart.
But last night, that "final" potion had let him feel the strength of his youth once more. He had truly rediscovered the power he’d felt while jousting in the Royal Capital’s arena!
The flame of hope was rekindled in his heart.
But then his thoughts turned to the anonymous letter he’d received last night, and a shadow fell over Ferrier’s heart.
He instinctively glanced toward a hidden compartment where the second Magic Potion, which he had paid a high price for, was stashed.
That was his last hope for continuing the family bloodline.
’Destroy it?’
’I can’t.’
’Besides, how could the Church possibly have found out so quickly?’
He walked to the window and pushed it open a crack. The cold morning air flooded in, carrying the fragrant scent of dew from the garden.
Everything seemed peaceful and beautiful.
Suddenly, a tremendous CRASH echoed from the mansion’s main gate!
BANG!
Splinters of wood flew through the air.
Viscount Ferrier jumped in fright, hastily throwing on a robe and rushing out of his bedroom.
In the hallway, panicked servants were scattering and fleeing in all directions.
Two men in silver-white robes already stood in the center of the grand hall.
The Golden Thread sun emblem on their chests was blindingly conspicuous in the dim light.
’The Eternal Radiance Church... the Judicial Court!’
The lead Judge had gaunt cheeks and a piercing gaze.
He ignored Viscount Ferrier’s protests and walked straight toward his bedroom.
"We received a report from a faithful follower that blasphemous, forbidden medicine is hidden here."
The Judge’s voice was devoid of any emotion.
His subordinates ignored the startled Viscountess and began to ransack the room.
Holding strange Magic instruments, they began to scan the walls meticulously.
Soon, they found the wooden box the Viscount had carefully hidden in the secret compartment.
The Judge opened the box, pinched the crimson Magic Potion, and held it up to the light of the window to examine it.
"To interfere with the sacred process of procreation with false power."
He turned, his gaze falling upon Viscount Ferrier’s ashen face.
"Viscount Ferrier, for the crime of blaspheming divine grace, you are under arrest."
Fear seized the Viscount by the throat. His lips trembled, but he could not make a sound.
He knew what it meant to be taken away by the Judicial Court.
"No! You can’t do this!"
The Viscountess screamed and lunged forward, only to be mercilessly shoved to the ground by an acolyte.
Her silk nightgown was smeared with dust from the floor.
Viscount Ferrier was clapped in manacles that suppressed Extraordinary abilities. The cold metal bit tightly into his wrists.
He was hauled up by two men and dragged out of his own home like a dead dog.
Outside the mansion, a black prisoner transport wagon was waiting.
Neighbors peeked out from their windows, watching the scene in terror.
For the first time, the morning sunlight felt cold to Viscount Ferrier.