Seraphina Valerius stood in the center of the storm, her red hair whipping around her face as the conflicting auras created a localized cyclone on the stage. She didn’t look afraid; she looked exhilarated.

"Billion-and-a-half!" Charles screamed over the roar of the crowd, his eyes bloodshot. "I will go to two billion! Try me, you vultures! TRY ME!"

Ethan sat in his chair, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his concealed dagger. The sheer amount of killing intent in the room was suffocating.

"Crul... if this blows, can we get out?"

["Probability of survival in a direct confrontation: 0.04%."]

Seraphina Valerius stood at the epicenter of the madness, a sharp, delighted smile cutting across her face. The House of Valerius acted only as the intermediary, but their twenty-five percent commission on this single night would exceed their entire annual revenue.

"One billion, five hundred thousand high-grade Spirit Stones!" Seraphina called out, her voice amplified by a sonic array. "Do I hear two billion? Think of it, gentlemen—this is not just a crystal. It is the key to the Spiritual Sea Realm! A one hundred percent guarantee of ascension!"

That was the hook that kept the Dragonia Princes biting. For Charles, Alaric, and Valerius, the core wasn’t just power; it was the throne. Whoever among them absorbed this core would become a Spiritual Sea behemoth, instantly overshadowing their brothers and securing their father’s crown.

"One billion, seven hundred thousand!" the General Manager of the Black Army Fleet roared, his mechanical eye glowing a violent crimson.

To the Fleet, the core was the final piece of a decade-long project. They already possessed eleven such stones, harvested at a devastating cost. This twelfth core would complete the Dragon-Slayer Battery, a weapon of research that would allow them to dictate terms to the King himself.

"Two billion!" the Master of the Alchemist’s Guild shrieked, his face pale with exertion. "We need it for the Heaven-Bending Dragon Pill! With this, our Guild will produce a Saint-Rank Alchemist! The entire Empire will bow to our recipes!"

"Two billion, two hundred thousand!" the Blacksmith’s Guild leader thundered, slamming his fist onto the mahogany railing. "We will forge a weapon at the peak of the Spiritual Sea! We will earn the recognition of the Golden Dragon Empire and rise beyond this backwater kingdom!"

The bids were no longer just numbers; they were the manifestos of desperate powers. No one was willing to retreat. The room was a pressure cooker of clashing spiritual auras.

"Two billion, five hundred thousand Spirit Stones!" Prince Charles screamed, standing at the very edge of the Royal Box, his eyes bloodshot and wild. "I am the First Prince! I represent the treasury of the Dragonia Lineage! I will burn every stone in the vaults to bury you all!"

"You’re spending our inheritance, brother!" Alaric hissed, though he didn’t stop him. Even he knew that if the Fleet or the Guilds took the core, the Dragonia name would mean nothing by next month.

The Captain of the White Unicorns watched the spectacle with a cold, detached fascinaton. He leaned toward Ethan, his voice low enough to be drowned out by the shouting.

"Look at them," the Captain whispered. "They are tearing the kingdom’s future apart for a single stone. This isn’t an auction anymore; it’s a funeral for the status quo."

Ethan gripped the armrest of his chair, his eyes fixed on the pulsating red light of the Dragon-Heart Core. "Crul, can the core we bought—the rusted junk—match that energy?"

["Comparing a candle to a supernova, Master. However, that red crystal is a crude battery. What we have in the back... it isn’t a battery. It’s a conduit. Let them fight for the fuel; you have already secured the engine."]

Seraphina raised her gavel, the obsidian wood shimmering with mana. "Two billion, five hundred thousand once! Are the Guilds truly going to let the Crown take the future of their crafts? Is the Black Army Fleet going to let their research remain incomplete for another century?"

Her words were like oil on a fire. The Manager of the Fleet began to growl, his hand hovering over a specialized detonator on his belt. The hall was one bid away from becoming a slaughterhouse.

The tension finally snapped, but it wasn’t the gavel that fell—it was the first strike of a civil war.

"If you will not sell it to the highest bidder, we will take it from the hands of the winners!" the General Manager of the Black Army Fleet roared.

He knew better than to attack the stage; Seraphina and the Golden Dragon Empire were untouchable. But the moment a winner was declared, they would become prey. "Retreat to the bastions!" the Manager commanded. "If they want this core back, they can try to find us in the middle of the Great Sea!"

The Fleet had played the role of loyal contractors for decades, selling their Invictus models to the Crown, but they had kept a terrifying secret. For every ship they sold, they had built ten more in their hidden aquatic cradles. They had hundreds of thousands of units ready for war, and even more devastatingly, they had the Mammoth—the Crown’s pride and joy, stolen and refitted with experimental weaponry. They were ready to challenge the King’s Rhino fleet for the sovereignty of the skies.

"You think we are mere scarecrows?" the Master of the Alchemist’s Guild shrieked, his eyes burning with a fanatical light. "You forget who provides the breath of life to this kingdom! Alchemical Sacred Fire: Pill-Man Transformation!"

His body erupted in a white-hot blaze, his aura expanding as he consumed a forbidden concoction. Behind him, the senior alchemists formed a circle, their combined thermal energy turning the VIP tier into a furnace.

"And you forget who built the world you stand on!" the Blacksmith’s Guild leader bellowed, his massive hammer glowing with a dull, subterranean heat. "Forge-Fire Lord: Grant me Strength!"

The air was torn asunder as the blacksmiths unleashed their powers. The room was no longer a place of commerce; it was a swirling vortex of Alchemical Fire, Forge-Heat, and the cold, mechanical killing intent of the Fleet.

Prince Charles drew his sword, the gold of his blade reflecting the chaos. "Traitors! Every last one of you! Guards, kill them! Protect the core at all costs!"

"Ethan, stay low!" the Captain yelled, his hand on Ethan’s shoulder as the White Unicorns formed a defensive shell.

-------------------

From this moment forward, to avoid confusion regarding cultivation ranks, I will include this footer with the current established levels.

Note: These are only the ranks mentioned so far to avoid spoilers.

Body Refinement Realm

Skin Refinement / Bone Refinement / Organ Refinement

Spiritual Gathering Realm 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Spiritual Perception / Spiritual Mist / Spiritual Condensation

Spiritual Core Realm

Core Solidification / Core Awakening / Spiritual Collapse (Half-step Spiritual Core)

Spiritual Soul Realm

Spiritual Soul Awakening / Soul Nourishing / Soul-Core Fusion

Golden Core Realm

Prime Fusion / Core Perfection / Core Destruction

Spiritual Sea Realm

Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??

Dao Manifestation Realm

Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??

Spiritual Transcendence

Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??