The hollow feeling faded quickly as I realized why my shout had worked better than expected.
How many in the empire would dare to lie using the Iron-Blooded Lord's name? Even as a joke, no one spoke of him lightly.
And here, among clients who had come to see a demon, the effect was even stronger. At an auction dealing with such a creature, how could they not think of the Iron-Blooded Lord? They trusted the Abyss Auction, yet remained keenly aware that his sudden appearance would not be strange. From the moment the bidding began, a faint anxiety must have lingered in them, and that fear erupted the instant they heard my voice. With that, the Chaos stage of my plan had been achieved.
"Please evacuate to this side!"
"Follow the instructions, and you'll be safe!"
The beastfolk showed no panic in the commotion. Had they been trained for such emergencies? They handled the terrified clients with practiced efficiency and led them out.
Yet even in the chaos, a few clients remained fixed on the stage, watching with wary eyes. Most of them were high-ranking figures.
Is it pride in their status?
Suspicious people were troublesome anywhere, but they were essential in my plan. They thought themselves sharper and steadier than the rest, which made them fools in disguise. Tricking them once was hard, yet once it succeeded, they were far easier to manipulate than the simpletons. They never realized they had already been played.
Soon... I counted silently. One, two, three.
A sharp sound cracked the air, like flint striking stone. It wasn't loud, but it carried to me and to those still evacuating. In the next instant, the massive stage split apart under a single sword strike. This signaled the beginning of the second stage, Destruction. Finally, the protagonist of this play had arrived.
Maxim, disguised as a demon, roared. As the sound rolled outward, a figure stepped through the dust.
Is this still an act? I trembled at the sight of the Iron-Blooded Lord's face. His expression and movements radiated an icy menace. Though he had already given me his answer, something in his bearing told me he was not fully aligned with my plan. The very fact that a man like him moved under my direction felt unsettling.
A black flash burst from his blade. Black was a strange word for it, yet no other fit. The flash shifted its form—sometimes airflow, sometimes fog, sometimes frost or slime—depending on his swordsmanship. The only constant was the oppressive aura that clung to it.
Isn't he attacking a little too seriously?
To be honest, I didn't have the confidence to withstand his attacks head-on. If I were in good condition and focused only on evasion and defense, I could buy some time. However, finding an opening to counterattack would be nearly impossible.
For the first time in a while, my competitive spirit surged. When would I ever be able to defeat the Iron-Blooded Lord? I doubted I could catch up within a few years, and in that time, he wouldn't be idle either. Still, I wanted to face him within five years.
At that moment, the Iron-Blooded Lord unleashed a barrage of sword attacks as if he was really fighting a demon.
Maxim's movements grew frantic. His enlarged body from the beast transformation made each dodge awkward. Meanwhile, he sharply glared at the Iron-Blooded Lord.
"Cut it out, damn it!" Maxim cried, his distorted voice pitched low enough for only the Iron-Blooded Lord to hear. The latter's face never changed. He continued to wield his sword with unyielding intensity.
I couldn't help admiring that unwavering focus, even as I worked to stir up chaos in my own way. It wasn't anything grand. I simply used the commotion to smash nearby objects. Of course, I made sure it looked as if the destruction came from their fight. Debris flew, explosions rang out, screams filled the air. All of it deepened the confusion.
The final stage of the plan would unfold once most of the auction participants had evacuated. The timing mattered: not after everyone left, but when just enough witnesses remained. They were the key to the operation.
As planned, when about a dozen people were still inside the auction house, the demon Maxim gave a pained roar.
To everyone's shock, a deep sword wound split across his chest. Blood poured from the diagonal gash. Harsh as it seemed, the wound was necessary to convince the witnesses.
Maxim collapsed, bringing down the already weakened stage with him.
The Iron-Blooded Lord brushed blood from his sword, his gaze shifting toward the evacuating crowd. Someone hiccuped when their eyes met his.
Then, as the Iron-Blooded Lord advanced with slow, deliberate steps, the next actor made his entrance.
"Stop it!" a booming voice cut through the uproar.
It was my third brother, Raizen Badniker.
Every gaze, both from those still present and those escaping, turned back to the stage. Raizen stood tall, nerves of steel on full display. Even in the chaos, even improvising, he didn't waver before the Iron-Blooded Lord.
His face twisted in desperate resolve as he shouted his line. "What in the world are you doing?"
"You didn't see this coming?" the Iron-Blooded Lord asked casually.
Even I felt a chill run down my spine at that voice. Raizen flinched.
This isn't acting. It was understandable. I probably would have reacted the same way in his place.
Raizen gritted his teeth. "I'll accept responsibility for my mistake. But your target was the demon. The demon is dead."
"Those who sought to purchase this demon are still alive. Anyone who consorts with evil must pay the price."
"That won't happen. Iron-Blooded Lord or not, you won't lay a finger on my clients!"
Raizen snatched a shattered plank of wood, snapped it clean in two, and gripped the pieces like twin swords. His stance suggested dual-wielding, though I doubted he had any real training. His muscles gave him away. The pose prioritized style over practicality. Still, at a glance, he looked convincing.
" Awaaaaah !" Raizen screamed as he charged the Iron-Blooded Lord.
I watched his desperate attack and quietly scored him. At this level, he deserved a perfect ten out of ten.
***
Raizen chuckled with a swollen face. " He really showed no mercy! I never thought he'd beat up his own son like that."
His appearance was twice as battered as the first time I had regressed and woken up bruised. Nonetheless, considering his opponent was the Iron-Blooded Lord, he looked better than expected.
I asked, "Is your shoulder okay?"
"My shoulder? Ah... it's not the shoulder. It's the armpit."
Raizen had endured relentless blows from the flat of the blade, and at the very end, the sword tip had grazed upward toward his shoulder. From the angle, I had mistaken the wound.
"It barely grazed me," he explained. "But the blade was so sharp that it left a scratch."
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"Of course it hurts! But at least the weather's still cool. Imagine getting cut under the arm in this heat—sweat soaking into the wound... Ugh ."
Raizen rubbed his arm with exaggerated horror. I glanced at his puffed-up face and muttered, "Too bad. If I had an egg, I'd give you one."
"Forget it. Compared to Sir Maxim, I got off easy enough..."
Maxim's injuries looked far worse, yet he hardly seemed bothered. He had said that with proper food and rest, such wounds would heal within a week.
"Is the recovery power of the beastfolk really that high?" I asked.
"No way. Well, they are stronger than ordinary people, but Sir Maxim... He's just a monster." Raizen chuckled, then relaxed, sinking back into the sofa. "In any case, this is pretty much the end, right?"
"Yes."
The Iron-Blooded Lord had appeared suddenly, struck down the demon in an instant, and charged at Raizen, the organizer of the Abyss Auction, with clear intent to kill. Even while his life was threatened, Raizen had thrown himself into protecting the clients.
Because of that, every guest had escaped unharmed. The Abyss Auction's reputation, and by extension the Zyren Trading Company's name, remained intact.
"I managed to preserve my own reputation, but Father's may have suffered. After all, he failed to kill me," Raizen remarked.
There had been no witnesses, so I could have staged Raizen's death altogether. But that would have ruined him. He was a merchant who thrived on his name. Stripping him of his identity, like Ludwig, would have forced him to start from nothing.
"That was inevitable," I said. "Even if things had gone differently, the family head wouldn't have carried out a massacre to track you down. The notoriety of the Iron-Blooded Lord isn't that severe."
The story would be that dozens of Raizen's loyal men had thrown themselves at the Iron-Blooded Lord in a desperate bid to protect him. Their sacrifice had allowed Raizen to narrowly escape. That would mark the official end of the auction incident.
"For now, I need to lay low," Raizen said. "I can't open the Abyss Auction, and I'll have to send a proxy to manage trade with other houses."
"Will you be fine?"
"My absence won't halt the company. Losing the auction, our biggest revenue stream, is a heavy blow... but I'll accept it. Still—" Raizen studied me. "You're amazing, you know that?"
"Why am I amazing?"
"You handled the entire mess flawlessly."
"Hardly flawless. As you said, the Iron-Blooded Lord and Zyren both lost reputation."
"The fact that it ended like this is amazing. In terms of business, I would have gone bankrupt. That you managed to resolve it with only this level of damage proves your skills are impressive." Raizen held out his hand. "Do you really have no intention of working with me?"
"I have already rejected you."
"I'm far more serious than before," he said. "It is rare to meet someone with guts like yours. Partnering with you could accelerate my plans by years."
"And those plans are?"
"To become the richest man in the empire."
I laughed. "A wonderful dream, but it isn't my path. Let's just excel in our own fields."
"What is your field?"
I raised my fist. "This is it."
Raizen muttered in a bored tone, "Strength? Well, that is an important factor."
"Brother Raizen, you don't seem particularly interested."
"I learned self-defense, but never found it enjoyable beyond that," he said.
"Everyone enjoys different things." I nodded and stood. "I've had enough for now. How should I reach you in the future?"
Raizen pulled something out and tossed it to me. I caught it and inspected it. To my surprise, it was a dagger. Its design was elaborate, with too many unnecessary decorations. The hilt ended in a flashy golden engraving.
"What is this?" I asked.
"This is a Zyren Knife, given only to the VIPs among VIPs. The Zyren Trading Company operates empire-wide. Show it, and you can receive up to a 50% discount, depending on the situation. You might even meet the highest-ranking person at that branch," he explained.
"Thank you. But I asked how to meet you, my dear brother."
"For now, I'll be stuck in the capital to recuperate. If you need to contact me, come to Goldbellu," he replied.
"I see." He meant the knife would serve as access there.
Goldbellu was one of the most prestigious accommodations in the capital—a hotel by modern terms. It sat in the southern district, the wealthiest area in the city. The fees were so high they could make someone gasp. Raizen staying there long-term proved his financial power.
I realized an unshakable truth. A wealthy friend is one to keep close.
I told him, "Okay. If I need anything, I'll tell you then."
"By the way, what will you need?"
"I'll decide when the time comes." I hadn't decided yet.
He had no way of knowing my feelings and sighed heavily. "Not knowing the goods in advance makes me uneasy."
"Nothing too troublesome. Just focus on healing."
"Fair enough."
The meeting had started poorly but ended better. That was preferable, after all.
I opened the door and froze. Oh, gods.
The Iron-Blooded Lord was waiting right in front of the door. "Are you done talking?"
"Yes." The Iron-Blooded Lord kept staring at me, so I casually added, "He said he will lay low and stay quiet for the time being."
"I see. Then it is time to talk."
"Hm? Do you still have something for Raizen?"
The Iron-Blooded Lord remained silent, his presence as intimidating as ever. Now I realized this was simply his default—there was no reason to be afraid.
Then he asked, "Did you meet Leone?"
Oh, bloody hell.