The grand basalt hall of Pill-Cauldron Mountain smelled of scorching sulfur, melted tallow, and stale wine.
Carved directly into the volcanic bedrock, the cavernous chamber was illuminated by iron braziers burning with sputtering red flames.
Surrounding the central auction arena were tiered stone galleries packed with two hundred attendees.
There were hooded elders from demonic border sects, ruthless herb smugglers, and black-market cartel bosses from three provinces.
On an elevated iron platform at the front of the hall stood Grandmaster Dan Chen.
The seventy-five-year-old sect master was draped in voluminous scarlet silk robes embroidered with dancing red skull glyphs.
In his right hand, Dan Chen held a polished ivory auction gavel carved from a demonic bone.
Behind Dan Chen, kneeling in four long, miserable rows, were Master Yao and nearly three hundred apprentice alchemists.
