On the far side of the room, the noblewoman who had placed the highest bid earlier turned her head as well. Her eyes narrowed slightly, surprise flashing across her gaze. She hadn't expected anyone else to dare compete in a moment as tense as this.
"Young friend," she said gracefully, her voice as smooth as silk yet laced with underlying pressure. "Who are you?"
Lein didn't answer right away. He merely turned his head slowly toward the woman, then spoke in a calm but resolute voice.
The entire room tensed.
A name... and a place no one had heard before—yet uttered with unwavering confidence.
And in a world , that kind of confidence only belonged to two types of people—utter fools... or someone truly dangerous.
A few people immediately wore puzzled expressions.
"What kind of place is that?" someone murmured, one eyebrow raised.
"Is it a new realm? Or perhaps a hidden sect?"
"Could be... a newly discovered minor cosmos?"
Whispers began spreading across the room. Most of them had never even heard of a place called 'Earth.' Even the key figures seated in the VIP section—the noblewoman and the middle-aged man across from her—frowned slightly, as if trying to recall whether such a name had ever appeared in ancient records.
Slowly, the noblewoman straightened her posture. Elegant and composed, she resembled a goddess seated atop an altar.
"Nice to meet you, young friend," she said gently. "I am Freya... of the Holy Angel Race."
Freya's voice was melodious, yet carried a dignified weight. She offered a soft smile before continuing, "May I ask what you intend to do with that scroll?"
Her tone was polite, but a deep curiosity hid beneath the surface. Even the middle-aged man across from her was now watching Lein closely, clearly interested in the answer.
Lein hesitated for a moment. The name "Holy Angel" made his heart beat just a little faster. That race... not only was it unfamiliar—it bore an uncanny resemblance to the one he had chosen as the form of his core crystal. A crystal he had never encountered in physical form until now.
But what unsettled him wasn't the name.
It was the question itself—one that touched on something deeply personal. His intention for the scroll was no one's business. Still, he knew this wasn't the time to be blunt or dismissive. That woman was no ordinary person.
Taking a short breath, Lein responded with a calm, respectful tone.
"I want to give it as a gift to my brother. He's a blacksmith."
Then, a faint smile bloomed on Freya's lips. It wasn't mocking—it was one of understanding.
"I see," she murmured. "You're quite sincere... Very well. I shall allow you to keep the scroll—for ten thousand years. After that, you must return it to me."
With a flick of her fingers, she sent a beam of holy light in Lein's direction. A warm glow shimmered—
[You have been bound by a Divine Oath – Goddess Freya]
Description: By the grace of Goddess Freya, you are permitted to hold the Blueprint of the Sword of Law for ten thousand years. Once the duration ends, you are required to return it to her.
Location: Arcteron Auction Hall
Duration: 10,000 Years
Note: Violating the Divine Oath will result in death.
A soft divine aura wrapped around Lein. He could feel the overwhelming power embedded in the vow—not a curse, but a sacred trust, sealed by a celestial contract.
Lein drew in a breath.
He still didn't fully understand who Freya was, but one thing was clear now: she wasn't just powerful—she was someone you did not want to take lightly.
His eyes widened slightly. His heartbeat quickened, and for a moment, it felt like the air itself was caught in his throat.
His thoughts screamed in disbelief. This wasn't just any contract—it was a deadly threat, straight from a being of divine level.
The warning still hung visibly before him, and for a brief moment, a chill crept down his spine. He glanced at Freya, trying to read her expression. But her face remained serene, unshaken—as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.
How could she... force a Divine Oath like that? Lein thought, his heart a storm of confusion.
Freya didn't say a word. She simply took a small sip of her tea, as though binding someone with the threat of death was just another part of her daily routine.
Lein stared at her in silence. Then shifted his gaze when he sensed the middle-aged man's stare begin to wane. It seemed the man had realized what had happened—and deliberately chose not to interfere.
After a few long seconds, Lein finally exhaled, slow and steady.
At the very least... the oath wasn't something he couldn't fulfill. Ten thousand years—it sounded like an eternity. But in that span of time, he was confident that his strength would surpass anyone's... even Freya's.
Meanwhile, on the stage, Wei Liang was already preparing to close the bidding. No new offers came in. The hall had fallen silent once more.
"Eight thousand one hundred—sold!" Wei Liang's voice rang out clearly.
A few murmurs of applause echoed, then faded into silence again across the VIP floor.
The scroll... officially belonged to Lein now.
Beside him, Laras and Efan looked concerned. Their expressions carried an uneasy weight.
"Brother Lein... are you alright?" Laras asked softly, her voice filled with worry.
Efan nodded quickly. "Yeah, I felt something just now... That woman did something to you, didn't she? What happened?"
Lein shook his head gently, trying to ease their concerns. "It's alright. I'm fine," he replied casually—even though his mind was still racing.
His gaze then shifted to Elder Fian, who sat not far away. Lein's expression turned more serious.
"Elder Fian," he said. "Do you know who they are?"
His tone remained respectful, but there was a sharp curiosity behind his words.
He knew that with Elder Fian's age and power, the man had surely seen much—and met countless influential figures. If those two were as special as they seemed, then Lein needed to know who they were... before he made an even bigger mistake.
"I can't say I know them personally, Elder Lein," Fian replied, shaking his head slowly. "But... if I had to guess, they're likely from one of the Sacred Sects."
Lein frowned. "Sacred Sects?"