"You… you're not Lochiel?"
The auctioneer wanted to slap himself the moment the question left his lips. It was a stupid question! Of course, he wasn't Lochiel!
"Lochiel? Oh, you mean that merchant? He's dead. As for me… shall I introduce myself?"
"No, no, Mr. Melanthe, I was blind, just a slip of the tongue."
"Oh really? It seems you were aiming for more than just a slip of the tongue, wouldn't you say?"
Siegfried spread his arms wide, palms up, his laughter unrestrained.
"Hahaha, let me tell you a secret. I'm not actually a hero. You're all welcome to try your luck."
His words had barely left his lips when the two soldiers who had been holding his shoulders stiffened.
Two heads tumbled from their necks, landing precisely in Siegfried's outstretched palms. The scene was horrifying.
Crimson jets of blood spurted from the necks of the two corpses, creating a scarlet rain in the elegant and luxurious banquet hall.
The black-haired young man, cradling the two heads, bathed in the crimson rain, his white teeth bared in a chilling smile, shouted wildly:
"Come on!"
At that moment, everyone remembered something:
The Melanthe family's hero is also a god of death.
The two corpses slumped to the ground, and the people finally reacted.
"What… what happened?"
"A hero! How could a hero be here?"
"I didn't… I didn't buy anything. Hero, please believe me!"
"Me too, I was just here to look…"
They screamed and wailed, desperately trying to flee, but Siegfried blocked the exit, forcing them to press against the walls, as far away from the demon as possible.
Siegfried ignored them, because he himself was terrified to the point of trembling.
"Yang Jing! Yang Jing! What have you done?!"
"Didn't you say you wanted a shocking entrance?"
"Shocking me too defeats the purpose!"
Those two soldiers were killed by Yang Jing. Though he didn't know how she did it, she was definitely the one who did it.
Siegfried had asked her to arrange a breathtaking entrance for him, as she excelled at that sort of thing.
Judging by the current situation, breathtaking was out of the question; it was more like terrifyingly sinister. This wasn't the entrance effect of a hero; even a demon wouldn't be this extreme!
Despite holding two heads and trembling, Siegfried's greatest strength was his exceptional mental fortitude.
He tossed the heads aside, clearing a path, and smoothly recited the names of all the participants.
"Viscount Stuart, Baron Molton, Mr. Bennet, Father Prinhol, and all you other damned trash,
I've noted everything you did.
If you mention anything you saw tonight to anyone, in any way,
I guarantee your end will be far worse than these two.
Don't answer. Shut your mouths.
You have ten seconds to cover your heads, pretend to be terrified, and get the hell out of here.
After ten seconds, anyone still here,
Dies!"
The nobles and the wealthy grabbed at this lifeline, rushing towards the exit.
They were terrified and panicked, but no one dared to scream, because the terrifying Melanthe had told them to shut up.
A fat figure was swept along in the crowd, pushed towards the door.
Siegfried glanced at the slave trader, Courtman, trying to escape the chaos, and let out a cold snort.
"Roland, do it."
From a corner of the hall, a knight's long sword, gleaming coldly, flew through the air, piercing Courtman's collar precisely.
Courtman's heavy, fat body was lifted into the air by the flying sword and pinned to the hall's wall.
"Mr. Courtman, where do you think you're going?"
Courtman's fat body trembled, so frightened he almost passed out.
He felt utterly wronged.
He was just a small manager, handling accounts at the trading company; the large deals and the ruthless business were handled by the chairman.
Even if the hero wanted to kill someone, he shouldn't be targeting him.
"Hero, hero, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have done this business, please spare me, I won't do it again!"
If he wasn't nailed to the wall, he would be kowtowing profusely.
"My formula is quite good, you only offered one million, that's too low, don't you think?"
"That formula is yours? I didn't know, I really didn't know, if I had known, I wouldn't have dared to haggle the price!"
His pants were already wet, emitting a strong stench.
Siegfried pinched his nose in disgust.
"You dared to engage in the slave trade, yet you weren't prepared to die?"
"I deserve to die, I deserve to die."
Courtman, nailed to the wall, began slapping himself, hitting himself hard. His already swollen face became even more swollen.
Siegfried reached out to pull out the long sword, but after two attempts, he realized he couldn't…
He sheepishly withdrew his hand, maintaining a calm demeanor as he continued:
"Don't worry, I won't kill you. I'm here to do business."
Killing you now? That would be such a waste.
Siegfried turned away from him, walking to the second-floor platform where Krinhild and the others were waiting. The auctioneer was kneeling on the ground, trembling.
Shawn felt like he had seen a ghost today.
A perfectly good auction, first a madman appears, then three more troublemakers.
He thought his temper was good enough to endure until the end before acting, but when he did, he hit a brick wall, shattering his knuckles.
For the first time, he felt that the rule of concealing one's identity at an auction was so incredibly stupid. If he had known from the beginning that this person was Melanthe, even if the other party had asked him to give away all his goods, Shawn would have absolutely not said a word.
Now, he had angered him, and his life was probably in danger.
"Mr. Auctioneer, uh, let me see… oh, you're called Shawn, right? You were the one who wanted to drag me out?"
Shawn buried his head in the ground, too terrified to utter a word, just trembling uncontrollably.
"Don't just be silent, it's boring."
Siegfried grabbed Shawn's hair, lifting his head.
"Tell Conston, to hurry up and enjoy himself, he doesn't have much time left."
Siegfried had two purposes for coming to the auction in person. The first was to connect with Courtman.
The second was to use the auction organizer to warn Count Conston that Melanthe was in his city and knew about his slave trade.
If nothing unexpected happened, Count Conston would probably be so scared he couldn't sleep, constantly fearing that Melanthe would come to kill him.
After that, his actions would be obvious.
He would mobilize all available troops to guard the Count's mansion, which would inevitably slacken the pursuit of the princess, reducing the pressure on Siegfried.
The Count's mansion would definitely be attacked later, but not in this way.
The priority now was to raise funds and gather people.
He stood up, no longer looking at the kneeling Shawn.
"I'll spare your life. Remember to deliver my message~"
"Take Courtman with us, let's go."