A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 15: Auction (2)

Meanwhile, in Hadecaine, the capital of Yukline territory, real-time updates about Deculein were being received.

“What? Right now? He’s at the auction house?” Yeriel said, furrowing her brow.

Last year, he had squandered ten million elne from the territory's finances, and now he was doing it again. After their fight, she hadn’t expected him to repeat the same stunt.

“Yes, it seems the auction is already underway,” the butler said.

“Ah...” Yeriel said, feeling a wave of dizziness at the butler’s confirmation.

As the de facto Lord of Hadecaine Castle, she did her best to cut expenses. Deculein's actions were completely baffling to her.

“... Got it. You may go,” Yeriel said.

“Yes, Lady Yeriel.”

Slam—!

“Fuck!”

As soon as the butler left, Yeriel slammed her desk, opened a bottle of whiskey, and poured herself a glass. With each pour, her anger flared even more.

“Could it be that he asked for the mining acquisition money for this last time? That lunatic?” Yeriel said.

Gulp.

She gulped down the glass of whiskey. It burned her throat, but it was better than the feeling that her head would explode.

“Aargh—! Aaaaargh—!” Yeriel screamed in frustration. “That fucking idiot!”

Yeriel believed she surpassed Deculein in magical talent, practical sense, administrative skills, understanding of the territory’s customs and industries, and every moral quality except etiquette. Yet, Deculein remained the head of Yukline, likely forever.

“Seriously, why...?”

Their parents had been too quick to trust in Deculein's talent, deciding on his succession too early. As a child, Deculein was a whiz kid, mastering Mage Tower of University-level magic by the age of ten.

But that was it. It was like Yeriel's height. She had surpassed five foot three by age ten and expected to grow tall and elegant like Deculein, but her growth stopped there. Her body never developed further.

In other words, he wasn't a genius. He was just precocious. Deculein had only been precocious. That's why their parents once told her they regretted their decision. They regretted deciding too early.

“You should have been the head of the family, not Deculein.”

... That part was only her imagination, but still.

"Fuuuck, regret is always too late, no matter when it comes..." Yeriel said.

It was too late for regrets. Nothing could be changed or undone. Their parents had passed away, and Deculein would forever remain the head of the Yukline family. Although it was unfair, Yeriel accepted it. Deculein took after their father, while she took after their mother.

Since her mother was a concubine who married their father after his first wife passed away, it was only natural for Deculein, the son of the first wife, to become the head of the family. It was an infuriatingly logical outcome.

She understood this, but it still felt unfair. She was confident she could do a better job than him—much better than that bastard who only indulged in luxuries in the capital.

"Oh... I miss them so much," Yeriel said after finishing the entire bottle. Resting her head on the desk, she muttered, "Why did you have to die so soon?"

Seven years have already passed since they both passed away. For the past seven years, she had often longed to hug them and cried almost every day. Now, at twenty-six, she was the acting Lord, having set aside her childish tears to fulfill her duty as a member of the Yukline family.

“... That bastard really pisses me off.”

Slam—! Slam—! Slam—!

Instead of tears, she drooled as she pounded the desk. After several hits, she sighed in resignation.

“Hopefully, he won't spend too much...”

Deculein despised excessive greed, considering it beneath his dignity. Yet now, she wanted to shatter all his foolish dignity and etiquette into pieces.

"That fuckin' bastard..." Yeriel slurred, clearly drunk.

Once, she had sought his brotherly love and felt proud of his very existence. But he was always cold and imposing, forcing ill-fitting etiquette upon her.

Of course, she had tried back then. She couldn't match that man's innate sense of etiquette, but she had wanted to be loved. She tried to earn his affection by wearing uncomfortable dresses, carrying etiquette books in her small hands, and following him everywhere.

But he ignored her, pushed her away, and yelled at her. She thought it was only natural since she was the daughter of a concubine. She believed she was unworthy, feeling she lacked the grace, intelligence, and nobility expected of her. Yet over time, she realized it was Deculein who lacked nobility.

“... That bastard.”

Yeriel became strong after giving up on being loved. Strong enough to curse him to his face in any situation and manage the vast Yukline territory on her own. She wasn't sure if she had become stronger or merely broken, but she was now capable of leading Yukline by herself.

She took pride in that, knowing that over seven years, Yukline had flourished under her guidance. All the vassals in the territory now recognized her as the true Lord.

"Sigh..."

Yeriel held it as a cherished source of pride and comfort in her heart.

***

The Auction Stage at Luten Schatzenjewel was exceptionally lavish. The seats, covered in red velvet favored by the nobility, were trimmed with golden embroidery. The auction platform on the far side gleamed as if it were made entirely of gold.

It was a dazzling display of red and gold. Amid the subtle fragrance and the laughter of the aristocrats, I perused the auction catalog on the armrest of my VVIP seat.

“There are many items on the list,” I said.

The catalog listed porcelain, necklaces, scissors, rings, relics, excavation finds, and the Snowflower Stone. In addition to the Snowflower Stone, there were many artifacts that would be useful to mages. For reference, I briefly checked the market value of the Snowflower Stone, which ranged from ten million to thirty million elne. It was a substantial price.

— Honored guests of the Luten Schnitzel auction, I would like to say a few words...

At that moment, the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, and the lights dimmed. The chatter slowly faded.

— Just as ice that seems permanent eventually melts, and seeds soaked in water sprout into new shoots...

The auctioneer began his introduction. An item was already on display on the platform.

— ... Yes, the new spring has begun, and here is the first item to kick off the season’s auction!

It appeared to be an ordinary piece of pottery.

— Look at the elegant curves of this piece. This is the Oriental Vase, crafted by a master artisan from the distant Eastern Archipelago. It comes with a certificate of authenticity from the Pottery Association, declaring it a top-quality masterpiece. The starting bid is 500,000 elne, with 50,000 elne increments.

At first, I had no particular thoughts about it. But when I glanced at the pottery, I frowned.

“That is...”

The vase was emitting a faint glow. This didn't surprise me, as it was an instinct from my Wealthy Magnate attribute.

— Number 37, 550,000 elne! Ah, immediately, number 693. 600,000 elne!

The first auction proceeded quite fiercely, but I focused solely on the glow. The more I looked, the more intense the radiance became.

— Number 37 again with 650,000 elne! Ah, now guest number 993!

Number 37 bid 650,000, number 993 bid 700,000, number 1038 bid 750,000... The bidding continued until it stopped at 1.3 million elne.

— Alright, number 1413 with 1.3 million elne, is there no higher bid? Then I will call it three times. 1.3 million elne. 1.3 million elne? 1.3 million—

The price was 1.3 million elne. With 200 million elne in my account, it was pocket change. I tapped the small crystal orb on the armrest of my seat.

— Ah! Now we have a bid from guest number 777 for 1.4 million elne!

The auctioneer recognized my bid.

— Number 1413, now 1.5 million elne!

Number 1413, who had bid 1.3 million, countered. I pressed the crystal orb without any hesitation.

— Number 777, 1.6 million! Number 1413, 1.7 million!

The price kept rising to 1.8 million, 1.9 million, 2 million... but the pottery's glow remained unchanged.

— Number 777, 2.5 million elne. Is there any higher bid?!

It was clear. That pottery held value beyond its auction price. I could see it and feel it instinctively. This was the power of the Wealthy Magnate attribute—the so-called fate of becoming a tycoon.

— If there are no further bids, I will call it three times at 2.5 million elne.

Number 1413, who had been very active earlier, was now silent. No one would dare challenge someone with a balance of 200 million. The power of money was something I had never felt so strongly in my life. If this was the authority of wealth, then I was indeed an extremely authoritative person...

— 2.5 million. 2.5 million? 2.5 million! Sold to number 777!

Just like that, I won the bid for the pottery.

Clap clap clap clap—

I raised my hand slightly in response to the applause from the guests. It was a perfectly natural gesture for a noble.

— Now, the next item...

The next item was also something I needed to buy. Maybe it was just this auction, or perhaps all auctions were like this. There might have been something wrong with my attribute, but no, it was reliable. This attribute would bring me wealth, no matter what.

— This is Rupherin’s Ring, crafted by the artisan Rupherin. It is said to aid the wearer’s blood flow and mana circulation. The starting bid is 800,000, with 50,000 increments!

I watched the auction proceed for a moment, pondering. But there was nothing to consider.

— Number 603, 1.5 million elne! From now on, increments are 100,000! Ah! Now, number 777!

My decision was nearly certain. There was no reason to hesitate. The 200 million in my account was personal money—nice to have, but not essential. So, I decided to invest, keeping only enough to buy the Snowflower Stone.

— Again, number 777! Rupherin’s Ring, 3 million elne!

I trusted my attribute's instinct, making this a guaranteed successful investment. Besides, I had the Midas Touch. This was an opportunity to become a true Wealthy Magnate.

— Rupherin’s Ring, sold to number 777 for 3 million elne!

I won the second item, Rupherin’s Ring. Naturally, the auction continued from there.

— 2.1 million elne. Is there no higher bid? Lucho’s Scissors, sold to number 777 for 2.1 million elne!

The auctioneer's calls stayed the same, with only the prices and items changing.

— 4.3 million elne. Is there no higher bid? The Ancient Rune Necklace, sold to number 777 for 4.3 million elne!

— 5.5 million elne. Is there no higher bid? The Darkbottom Carpet, sold to number 777 for 5.5 million elne...

Number 777. They belonged to Deculein.

***

Honestly, Yulie had never considered attending an auction in her life. Frugality and thrift were ingrained in her, and she often agonized over buying even a single fur coat. That's why she still cherished the one she received as a graduation gift ten years ago. But...

— Number 777, 4.3 million elne. Is there no higher bid?

It was clear Deculein had no interest in frugality.

— The Ancient Rune Necklace, sold to number 777 for 4.3 million elne!

As soon as the auction began, he quickly won seven out of ten items. His aggressive bidding dominated the entire auction stage.

“Unbelievable...” Yulie said, shaking her head.

Some might find it impressive or enviable, but to Yulie, his extravagance was simply pathetic. In this way, she and Deculein were different in every aspect. Their ideals were too foreign to each other. That’s why they could never understand one another.

Of course, Yulie had tried at first. As a knight, she couldn't defy her family's wishes, so she tried to love her fiancé. However, Deculein mistakenly believed he could buy her favor and treated her in the most contemptible way. From the day of their disastrously mismatched engagement, they had been at odds from the very start.

“Have you come to find yourself a Cherished Item?”

At that moment, a nobleman next to her spoke with a gentle smile. Yulie’s shoulders twitched at the question she had been waiting for.

“... Yes.”

The Snowflower Stone, also known as Winter’s Flame, was a rare and paradoxical metal that holds both cold and heat. It was so difficult to handle that it was considered magical, and only the most skilled blacksmiths could attempt to smelt and refine it.

“It’s time for me to get my own Cherished Item,” Yulie continued.

In truth, she did desire a good sword. After all, she believed that a knight who didn't invest in their weapon was a real waste. And to some extent, she was right. A sword's value increases over time as it bonds with the wielder's mana, a process commonly known as communion.

In this regard, focusing solely on the Snowflower Stone wasn't extravagant. It was also well known that she didn't possess a Cherished Item, so people would understand that she was finally seeking her own special armament—just like the nobleman sitting next to her.

“Indeed, Knight Freyden. Your skills are renowned throughout the Empire. I was very impressed by your interview in last month’s Knight Journal,” the noblemen said.

“... I simply shared my beliefs and convictions,” Yulie said, nodding gracefully.

Although his flattery made her feel proud, she tried not to show it.

“Of course, and your husband—”

“He is not my husband,” Yulie said, her eyes narrowing sharply. The nobleman laughed awkwardly before quietly retreating.

— 5.5 million elne. Is there no higher bid? The Darkbottom Carpet, sold to number 777 for 5.5 million elne...

Meanwhile, Deculein's extravagant spending showed no signs of stopping. His overwhelming presence was so dominant that the attention directed at him began to spill over to her as well. After all, they were officially engaged.

Yulie felt her face gradually heating up, but she tried hard to hold it back. Her focus was solely on the Snowflower Stone. She had already confirmed the total of her savings and salary, which she had been accumulating since birth. It was much more than she had expected, so she could definitely afford the Snowflower Stone.

Feeling confident and ignoring the repeated calls for number 777, Yulie took a deep breath to calm herself.

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