The Sect Leader System-Chapter 291: Disappointment, Hope, and Seething

The next qi-rich material, a rank eleven Ice aspected beast core, came up on the block next, and Benton leaned forward on his seat. With his trade for Ice Lotus with Elder Feng of the Poison Claw Sect and the earlier purchase of the rock steeped in the qi of an Ice cave, that core would complete the set of three that Benton needed to create a qi source for Yang Xiu.

He had to have that beast core, no matter the cost. Sitting on a bit over one point three million greater spirit coins he’d netted from the auction thus far plus several hundred thousand that he’d started with, he was ready to spend every single coin to acquire it.

As per usual, the bidding quickly reached fifty thousand. Also as normal, the bids slowed down, increasing by only one thousand each until he held the highest bid at fifty-seven thousand. That was when the auction took an unexpected turn.

There were no more bids.

Benton won the core for fifty-seven thousand greater spirit coins. Not a hundred and fifty-seven. Not one million five hundred seventy thousand. Just fifty-seven thousand.

That was slightly less than the Fire beast core would have gone for if not for his foil’s interference despite being one rank higher. Which tracked. Ice was not nearly as popular with cultivators as Fire. Nor was it as commonly found in disciple’s aspects.

Benton was quite grateful for the room’s privacy arrays as he burst out laughing. He knew that making his foil overpay for the Fire beast core had probably been damaging to that person, but it must have burned them more than he’d thought if they were giving up already.

Of course, maybe they were just taking a break so as to be more unpredictable, but either way, he’d take the win.

Next, the first talismans of the auction made an appearance, and though Benton wasn’t interested in buying any, the sale reminded him of their existence. He’d barely thought about the devices since his encounter with that creep who stalked Yang Xiu. The unfortunate nature of his introduction to them aside, they were actually quite handy, allowing anyone, even a mortal, to command the power of whatever cultivator had created the talisman simply by tearing a piece of paper.

If he were looking to provide protection for his sect members—which he definitely was!—what better way was there than to give them all multiple talismans that he created with Nascent Soul level attacks and defenses? He made a mental note to buy the necessary skills in time to prepare plenty of talismans for the tournament.

As he was deep into consideration of which of his techniques would be best to imbue into talismans, one of his swords came up—the Space Blade. Benton actually had high hopes for that one as the attack was a special one that he called Spatial Tear. It essentially opened an infinitesimally small tear in space, which had very interesting properties.

For one thing, it was nearly invisible, and while a cultivator who had trained their spiritual sense and was paying close attention could detect where the qi from the sword landed, the tear itself did not emit qi once it was established. Basically, one’s opponent would have a brief moment where they could possibly note that qi from the blade was doing something in a specific area. Unless that opponent happened to use a Spatial element, though, they wouldn’t see or sense the tear itself.

Of course, neither would the sword’s user. Benton hoped the person who won the sword took that into account because anyone that came into contact with that tear would have a very bad day. Basically, the thickness of the line created was on the order of magnitude of molecules, and anything that touched it would be instantly split asunder.

Obviously, he’d included an additional array on the sword that would clear an area by fixing all the nearby tears. Otherwise, they’d become a permanent danger by lying in wait for the next unsuspecting person or beast to come by.

Hmm. Invisible, persistent death traps. Maybe crafting that particular sword was a bad idea.

By the time he had that thought, though, the blade had sold—one million one hundred twenty-one thousand greater spirit coins. Apparently, the bidders present understood the weapon’s destructive power as much as Benton did.

The next interesting item up for bid was a Water aspected sapling, which caused Benton to freeze momentarily in indecision. He hadn’t planned on creating a Water qi source, but he did have some sect members in Fatty Ren’s branch who used that element. And he was sitting on a ridiculous number of greater spirit coins.

Really, what other use did he have for the money?

He sighed. “As long as it doesn’t go for more than sixty, I’ll buy it.”

Resolution made, he bid just like he had for all the other qi-rich materials, winning it for sixty-five thousand greater spirit coins.

When he realized that he’d passed his self-imposed limit, he said to himself, “Maybe Evelyn had a point about me not attending auctions.”

The next item was just as consternating—a Lightning aspected rose. He frowned. Lightning just so happened to be Kang Lin’s element. And the grandfather of his disciple was attending the auction.

Coincidence? Maybe. After all, there had just been a Water aspected material on the block. But Benton thought not.

Still, the contrast between the paltry sums the materials were selling for versus how sky high the values his were raking in meant that he almost had to buy everything that wasn’t a duplicate of something he had.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Ah, who was he kidding? It was for Kang Lin. He would have bought it even if it ate into his funds greatly.

The element turned out to be a bit more popular than some of the others, with him having to pay seventy-seven thousand for the item. It was very much worth it to him, though, especially considering that he still had literally millions left in his account and another of his swords was up next, the Soul Blade.

Benton sighed. Of all his blades, he regretted that one the most. He’d been concerned about releasing a weapon out into the world that utilized an attack that, for most cultivators, couldn’t be defended against and inflicted damage that couldn’t be healed, so he’d wimped out. Instead of harming the opponent’s Soul as he had originally intended, the blade fed energy from qi attacks into the user’s Soul, making it permanently stronger.

If there was one permanent effect he was willing to let get out, it was definitely one that improved one’s Soul.

The bidders didn’t exactly show disdain for the weapon and its relatively weak effect, but neither were they terribly enthusiastic. It went for a comparatively paltry three hundred sixty-five thousand.

After more talismans and other miscellaneous goods, a rank thirteen Time aspected beast core hit the block. Either that element was particularly popular or the other bidders liked that the core was rank thirteen or his foil returned because the bidding quickly crossed the one hundred thousand mark and even shot over two hundred thousand.

Benton had no choice but to keep bidding, though. He had such high hopes for Peng Zhen’s son, little Peng Hanying, the Time aspected cultivator. Two hundred sixty-one thousand greater spirit coins was a small price to pay for advancing such an interesting sect member.

The next interesting item was quite unexpected—Benton’s Training Blade. Considering that there were still two swords that used mythical elements left to be auctioned, Benton didn’t understand why that particular one was introduced at that point. Jia Xueqin really hyped up the benefits, though. Apparently, he and his team had done extensive testing in the short amount of time they’d had possession of the sword and came away impressed. He announced that all the juniors who practiced with the blade even briefly made great strides in comprehending sword basics.

Benton sometimes wondered if the big sects really cared all that much about training their juniors, but some of them must have because the bidding was fast and furious, topping out at one million greater spirit coins exactly. That result was much higher than he’d thought it would be.

No other materials appeared before the Void Blade went up for sale, earning Benton a cool eight hundred seventy-three thousand coins before the auction fees were subtracted. He thought the bidders vastly underestimated the destructive power of Void compared to the other blades and felt that the winner got a comparative bargain.

Finally, the next material came up for bid, and Benton again leaned forward in his seat, only to be disappointed that it was quite similar to one of his plant kernels with the difference being that it was Wood aspected instead of Nature. He let it pass without bidding.

With the auction almost three quarters complete, what had started so promising was beginning to disappoint. Sure, he’d made a ton of money, but without something to spend those gains on, what was the point?

Jia Xueqin had a few mixed emotions about the auction. Overall, he was definitely heading toward a record-breaking event, and it was all due to Chao Su’s swords. It was rare for anything other than a truly heavens-defying pill to go for more than one million greater spirit coins, and two of the blades had already hit that mark.

There were some sour notes, however. The Swift Blizzard Sect’s attempt to drive up the prices of the qi-rich materials had ended, and that had been Jia Xueqin’s fault for doing that one small favor. Still, at most, Chao Su would have spent an extra one and a half million greater spirit coins over the course of the auction, and that was assuming that he didn’t either decide to quit bidding in disgust or find another way to end the Swift Blizzard’s interference.

While a huge amount, that extra paled in comparison to how much Chao Su’s merchandise was generating. One of the first rules that Jia Xueqin had been taught on his journey to becoming an auction manager was to resist becoming too greedy. Some ambition was a good thing. Too much, though, led to ruin, especially when dealing with cultivators who could crush you like a bug.

The other minor disappointments were the severely depressed selling price for the Soul Blade and the slightly lower winning bid for the Void Blade. Those reductions were overall trivial compared to how much the others went for.

None of those losses would matter, anyway, if the Time Blade did as well as he expected. Like with the Time aspected material earlier, most cultivators considered the element to be supreme compared to all the others. The belief was akin to a superstition, and it was one he was happy to exploit. He and all the other auction managers typically estimated an upcharge of two to five times the base price when it came to Time aspected merchandise.

If that rule of thumb applied to the sword that was next up, he could be looking at a one million coin fee. Everyone in the auction house would be getting a fantastic bonus if that happened.

Mao Biya seethed in silence as she watched the dreadful auction continue. Even as she kept telling herself she should just leave, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had to see, to witness her greatest defeat as it happened.

The plan had been for Chao Su to skulk out of the auction house at the end, his swords bringing in a fraction of what they should have and him unable to afford but a few of the materials he was so desperate for. Instead, it would be her who couldn’t show her face as she rushed out of the building trying to avoid her peers.

She kept hoping for something to go wrong for the man. To lose a bidding war on an important item. For one of his swords to just bomb. Anything.

So far, the worst thing to happen to him was that one of his elite creations went for less than a half million coins. Oh, the tragedy. He was surely crying in his tea over that debacle.

On the stage below her, that horrid auction manager introduced yet another sword, that one Time aspected.

Great. Just fantastic.

He described the blade’s attack. The user’s opponent would become briefly trapped in a bubble in which Time moved more slowly than the rest of the world. Sure, any attack that penetrated the bubble would automatically pop it, but that attack would come at the person trapped inside with so much relative speed that it would be almost impossible to dodge or parry.

Worse, the blade’s attacks could be chained for as long as the user’s qi held out. Death by a thousand cuts, if that many were needed.

That ability was, frankly, ridiculous.

If anyone else would have made such a weapon, it would have been severely limited by the need to supply it with Time aspected spirit coins, which were obviously quite rare and expensive in and of themselves. Since Chao Su’s blades could somehow convert any cultivator’s qi into Time qi, no coins were required, making the attacks unlimited.

Ridiculous.

The auction manager established the bidding at one million greater spirit coins. Mao Biya prayed to the heavens that no one would take him up on that start.

No such luck.

He advanced in increments of a quarter of a million, and she, for the sake of her sanity, stopped paying attention, only looking up when he finally announced, “Sold!”

Over ten million greater spirit coins. Ten million.

Ridiculous!