"Now," the Spiremaster said, his voice returning to its crisp business tone, "for the fourth item on today's list."
A circular platform descended from above—wreathed in reinforced containment barriers etched with layered space-lock runes. As it settled in the center of the arena, the shimmering walls of its prison revealed what lay inside:
Long and sleek, its scales shimmered like flowing starfields—each one a flickering fragment of nebula, comet, or distant sun. Its eyes were deep silver, like twin galaxies in constant rotation. Though coiled calmly, its presence radiated pure spatial pressure. Even restrained, it exuded a quiet dominance over the very fabric of the realm around it.
The Spiremaster raised his hand and spoke, his tone now tinged with reverence.
"The Myriad Galaxy Serpent."
The name sent a ripple through the crowd.
"This creature is a true rarity—an ancient space-faring beast born from the edge of the Celestial Stream. Even as a newborn, it is capable of tearing through the walls of stable space and leaping from galaxy to galaxy without a portal. A living conduit of hyperspatial law."
He let the murmurs of awe pass before continuing.
"It is said that a fully grown Myriad Galaxy Serpent can nest between star clusters, slumbering in one system while feeding in another. But even this juvenile specimen—barely ten meters long—is already able to phase through dimensional locks, disrupt teleportation attempts, and warp reality around its movement path."
Inside its containment, the serpent lifted its head slightly. A shimmer of distorted space followed the motion, warping the air around it into starlight trails. Even the reinforced bindings creaked slightly under the strain.
"As a beast companion, it is considered priceless. As a research subject, beyond value. As a weapon, nearly impossible to counter in open void warfare."
Several nobles leaned forward in their seats, eyes gleaming. Cult leaders whispered to their aides. Representatives from star-bound factions started pulling out crystal tokens, preparing to bid.
Valeris tilted her head. "A space serpent, huh. Wonder what he'll do with that."
Veyra raised an eyebrow. "It's fast enough to escape any realm. That makes it dangerous. Useful too… if you're planning to go beyond what normal gates can offer."
Down below, Asher was quiet. But his gaze had already settled on the serpent.
He didn't move yet—but the look in his eye said one thing clearly:
And the bidding was about to begin.
The Spiremaster lifted one hand, his fingers flaring with the golden glow of an Auction Seal.
"For this item," he said clearly, "there will be no battle. This exchange will be based purely on treasure. The one who offers the highest-valued trade will claim this little beauty."
He gestured toward the transparent containment chamber, where the Myriad Galaxy Serpent coiled lazily within its shimmering cage. The serpent's long, star-dusted body shifted slightly, its eyes half-closed, seemingly unaware of the attention it was receiving.
But who could blame it?
It was, after all, a newborn—barely days old in cosmic terms. Even so, the spatial pressure it emitted caused visible distortions in the air around it, bending light and sound in subtle waves. From time to time, one could see flashes of distant stars ripple across its scales—like entire galaxies trapped within its skin.
The Spiremaster let the audience admire the creature for a moment longer before continuing.
"You are bidding not with coins or credits—but with treasures, artifacts, or resources of equal or greater value. The judges of the High Auction Council will evaluate each offer instantly. Once the highest offer is confirmed, the winner will be granted full ownership."
The room buzzed with interest.
In the noble balconies, representatives began activating their auction orbs. One projected an ancient celestial map fragment from the Age of Drift. Another displayed a casket of living void pearls. A third offered an embryonic flame spirit from a dying sun—still alive and pulsing with heat.
Asher remained silent, arms crossed, watching.
Valeris leaned toward him slightly. "Thinking about it?"
"I might," Asher said. "It's rare enough to be useful. Especially for us who are traveling from one world to another."
Veyra studied the baby serpent. "It's cute," she said, "but it'll tear a hole in your world-pouch the moment it learns to phase-hop."
Asher just smirked. "Then I'll teach it to phase-hop where I want."
Back in the center, the Spiremaster glanced down at the glowing pillars of light rising from each bid.
"Let the exchange begin."
One by one, the World Rank powerhouses began submitting their treasures.
Each treasure floated forward, carried by glowing arrays, and stopped in front of the Spiremaster. He studied each item carefully, his eyes glowing faintly with appraisal runes.
The first bidder offered a Time-Locked Lotus, a flower that only bloomed once every ten thousand years. The second bidder presented a Starcore Furnace, a condensed piece of an ancient sun. Another floated up a Celestial Bone Flute, said to summon beasts from other realms.
As each offer arrived, the Spiremaster would examine it, nod or shake his head slightly, then place the item to the side as the next one came forward.
"This one is rare, but not strong enough," he said of the Starcore.
"This one has great age but no practical use," he muttered of the flute.
"This is the best so far," he finally announced when he examined a Realmfruit, glowing with cosmic energy. "Its energy density is high, and its laws are stable. This is the current leading bid."
More treasures kept arriving—crates of pure law crystals, sealed elemental spirits, even fragments of ancient divine weapons.
But Asher remained quiet, arms folded, eyes on the baby serpent who still floated lazily in its cage, yawning occasionally.
Then, without a word, Asher raised one hand.
A single droplet of blood formed at his fingertip—small, glowing, and pulsing with golden-red light. It floated forward, surrounded by dense layers of containment seals that formed on their own. The droplet drifted to the center, and the moment it reached the Spiremaster, the entire auction hall went silent.
The Spiremaster's eyes widened. He took one step forward and inspected the blood closely. Runes formed around it without him casting anything. The laws in the air responded on their own.
"This…" the Spiremaster said slowly, "this is a drop of Dragon God Bloodline Essence, isn't it?"
Asher gave a small nod, his expression calm. "I was lucky enough to obtain it."
The moment those words echoed across the hall, several participants in the crowd narrowed their eyes. Greed stirred in their expressions—especially among those with Beast Bloodlines. For them, a drop of such divine essence was worth more than any treasure in the auction. It could awaken ancient bloodlines, evolve their forms, or even shatter cultivation limits.
Dozens of World Rank beings silently marked Asher.
The moment he stepped out of the auction's protected grounds, they would ambush him.
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He caught every glance, every shift in aura, every flicker of hidden killing intent. But outwardly, he didn't react. He simply placed the containment seal holding the Myriad Galaxy Serpent into his storage and sat back down.
'More treasures for me.'
At Asher's level, ambushes didn't scare him. He was no ordinary Sovereign. If every single World Rank cultivator here attacked him at once, they still wouldn't survive.
He didn't even need to use 100% of his power.
Eighty percent was enough.
That was how strong Asher had become—so far beyond the average World Ranker that he could take on ten thousand of them and still walk away victorious.
The Spiremaster, still standing at the heart of the auction platform, remained perfectly composed on the outside. But inwardly, his thoughts stirred.
'It seems… he's the one Sister Volarisa was looking for.'
Most wouldn't have recognized the name Volarisa. To them, it was meaningless. But the truth was far more profound.
Volarisa wasn't a person.
It was a world—a living, sentient realm from the another galaxy—the very world Asher had been reincarnated into.
The Spiremaster's eyes rested on Asher for a moment longer, his gaze unreadable.
'I never sensed it before…' he thought. 'But just now, when his blood leaked… that aura. That essence of origin. There's no mistaking it.'
Every being born from a world carried a unique aura imprint—a subtle resonance tied to the world that gave them birth. Most never noticed it, but beings like the Spiremaster—those who were far more than they appeared—could recognize the source world instantly when that aura was released.
Until now, Asher's aura had been sealed.