"Uh… I really wanted to call you 'Liya,' but I can't help it—'Artoria' is just too beautiful a name, so I still prefer calling you Artoria."
[You manage to placate Artoria and urge everyone to quickly enter the auction.]
[Because Oberon knows Myrion of Gloucester, you are granted access to the VIP box for the auction.]
[After a brief introduction, the auction begins.]
[This auction's rules do not allow proxies; each bidder must be present to make their bid in person.]
[When they reach lot #3, Oberon grows restless.]
"O Shakespeare's lost manuscript… oh no, could it really be one of those 'drifted artifacts' from Pan-Human history? If it's authentic… I must have it. I can't miss this under any circumstances…"
Oberon stared at the stage, eyes shining as he eyed the lost Shakespeare draft.
"Sorry, everyone, but I have a sudden urge to spend money… shall I just buy it outright?"
"I don't see a problem with that," Guinevere stroked his chin. "Just make sure you reserve enough funds for the Fate Blade."
Artoria looked down at her new dress, about to say something—but then thought better of it and held her tongue.
"No worries! I'll purchase it!" Oberon clapped his hands decisively. "Don't worry—I've estimated the Fate Blade's value. It's not a hotly contested item. Ten million Mora Pounds should do it!"
[Oberon wins the Shakespeare manuscript for 3 million Mora Pounds.]
[After several more lots, your target—the Fate Blade—is finally up for auction.]
[The Fate Blade's price quickly jumps to 5 million Mora Pounds.]
"Artoria and her party bid 10 million Mora Pounds! Any faeries here willing to outbid them?"
The auctioneer faerie exclaimed, excitement in her voice.
"Then at 10 million—wait, there's a bid for 20 million! A VIP bidder just offered 20 million Mora Pounds! It's heating up!"
"20 million! Any higher bids?!"
"Hey, hey," Guinevere leaned toward Oberon in the VIP box, lowering his voice. "What's going on? Didn't you say this auction wouldn't be competitive? Wasn't 10 million enough? Who's this mysterious big spender?"
"How would I know someone else would jump in?" Oberon's face darkened. "We need to discuss strategy. There's an unexpected competitor…"
Before Oberon could finish, Artoria stood up.
"30 million! 30 million Mora Pounds! Ugh… forget it, 70 million! How about 70 million Mora Pounds?!"
"Artoria, are you a wild boar?!" Oberon was dumbstruck.
Guinevere was equally shocked.
"Holy hell."
What was going on—was she bidding against herself?
He'd seen countless auction scenes in novels, but never anything like this.
"Wait, Artoria, hold on," Oberon whispered urgently. "We don't have 70 million! We spent 3 million just now. Didn't you forget?"
"Idiot! Oberon, you're an idiot!" Artoria snapped. "Why stir up trouble now? If it comes to it, just leave you here to work!"
"If necessary, I could mortgage my Welsh Forest…" Oberon offered.
"Wait—did she really bid 70 million Mora Pounds?" Guinevere's eye twitched. "I feel like I've seen this before…"
While the three of them in the VIP box hashed out strategy in hushed tones, the auctioneer was announcing loudly below.
"70 million Mora Pounds! 70 million—this should seal the deal. Let me bring down the gavel—"
"100 million Mora Pounds."
A cool, composed voice cut through the hall. Although quiet, its noble bearing silenced all other bidders.
"I know not who you are, and you are clearly not a mere mortal, but I'm sorry—this lot is mine. You cannot outbid me. Please stop this fruitless struggle—"
"Say what?!"
Before he could finish, Artoria couldn't wait to jump back in.
"I will not lose! In that case—using Oberon's land as collateral, 101 million Mora Pounds!"
"Crazy? Even my land isn't worth 10 million!" Oberon muttered, aghast as he followed Artoria's lead.
Meanwhile, Guinevere's eyes suddenly lit up. He'd seen this storyline before while scrolling through videos—he remembered it! The faerie bidding against them was… Tristan! If he recalled correctly, the hosts would next summon both finalists to duel, and Artoria would decisively defeat Tristan to secure the auction.
[The auctioneer asks for Myrion's guidance, as she has the final say.]
"Regardless, the Fate Blade is the star of tonight's auction. It would have been a mistake not to save it for last."
"Therefore, the successful bidder must possess not only wealth but also character."
"Please have the final two bidders come to the stage."
[Myrion invites Artoria and the other bidder to the stage.]
"If I'm to strike a heavy blow against faerie Tristan, then I must step forward!"
Since he'd already incurred Tristan's wrath, what was one more blow?
Recalling why he was now packing to flee, Guinevere's anger flared. He volunteered immediately.
[You rush the stage ahead of Artoria.]
"I suppose I have no choice, since Myrion requests it," he said as he followed.
A moment later, a small armored faerie stepped onto the stage with a light sigh.
When Guinevere saw her face, he froze.
What the—?
This wasn't how the story was supposed to go!
"Ah, greeted by a valiant knight, I see. In that case, I must introduce myself."
The faerie removed her helmet, bowed slightly to Guinevere, and smiled.
"Faerie Knight Lancelot, at your service."