Deacon Vane dipped his badger-hair brush into a dish of black ink and tapped his copper abacus with the polished wooden handle.
The sharp clatter of bone beads cut through the humid afternoon air.
Below the porch, three Sanctuary Vice-Elders and twenty archipelago lords stood pressed against the wooden railing. Their eyes were fixed on the felt-lined display case sitting beside the ledger.
Ten translucent crystal vials rested on the velvet. Inside each vial, a single pale green pill spun in lazy suspension, surrounded by three distinct rings of snowy vapor.
“The opening bid for the entire lot of ten Cloud-Veined Supreme Purge Pills,” Deacon Vane announced, his mustache twitching with practiced calm, “is one thousand Sovereign Jade Cores.”
A collective hiss of drawn breath rippled through the gathered cultivators.
One thousand Sovereign Jade Cores was enough to purchase three coastal merchant fleets. It was enough to hire an entire mercenary army of Nascent Soul experts for five decades.
Yet not a single man walked away.
