Because deep down, they all knew—
There was no fear in him.
Just as the hall stood in stunned silence, struggling to understand why the mysterious monk had conceded, a voice rang out, bold and full of conviction.
“Yes… that is our Saint! Heavenly Moon!”
All heads turned toward the speaker — a young disciple dressed in the robes of the Heavenly Moon Sect. His face was flushed with pride, his chest puffed out, and his eyes glowed with respect.
“She is not scared of anyone!” he shouted, his voice echoing with unwavering loyalty.
There was a pause, then another voice rose.
“She stood her ground even against that monster!”
“She didn’t retreat!”
“And she won!”
One by one, more disciples began to stand, clapping, cheering, voices rising like a rallying army.
“Heavenly Moon!”
“Our Saint is invincible!”
“She defeated that arrogant monk with her will alone!”
Even some of the elders—those who had been kneeling silently moments ago—now lifted their heads, their expressions shifting from shame to awe.
The confusion that had filled the hall began to fade. Uncertainty twisted into admiration.
Even those who had doubted before, who had dared to wonder if their Saint had been overpowered or humiliated, now felt ashamed of even having such thoughts.
And in the center of it, Heavenly Moon stood tall once more.
She did not speak. She didn’t need to.
The cheers of her disciples, the respect of the elders, and the awestruck faces of outsiders all shouted what words could not.
They saw a victory.
But only she knew the cost.
While they raised her name to the heavens, she alone remembered the cold voice in her head, the lazy smirk.
She had made a deal with a devil.
And the devil had stood true.
He gave her face when he didn’t have to. He gave her dignity, even if he himself was the one that stripped her of it. He gave her reverence—not because she deserved it, but because he allowed it.
And now, they all cheered for her. Believed in her.
She forced herself not to look up at the Sapphire Lobby. She refused to give him that satisfaction. But deep down, she knew—he was watching.
Smiling.
Meanwhile, on stage, Fi Feng, who had been standing motionless like a statue, finally regained his senses.
He straightened his posture and raised his trembling voice, trying to match the grandeur of the occasion.
“Ah…!” he cleared his throat. “The bid has been won by the Sect Leader of the Heavenly Moon Sect—”
He paused, giving weight to every word.
“The Saint… Heavenly Moon!”
As if on cue, another wave of thunderous cheers exploded from the Heavenly Moon disciples. They leapt to their feet, arms raised, eyes filled with excitement and energy.
“Heavenly Moon!””Long live the Saint!””Glory to our Sect!”
But the real victory lied in something else. Among the crowd were representatives of multiple great sects, watching intently and what they saw wasn’t a woman who had nearly lost.
They saw a Saint who had stood unshaken. They saw dominance. They saw wealth.
And in that moment, the name Heavenly Moon gained more than just applause.
Her influence soared.
And as the hall erupted into celebration, only a few dared glance upward, toward the Sapphire Lobby, where the monk had once sat.
The chair was now empty.
The auction hall, now renewed with vigor, slowly regained its rhythm.
The servants resumed their duties, the auctioneers rotated quietly behind the scenes, and Fi Feng—though still shaken—returned to his role with renewed focus.
Item after item was revealed in grand fashion—this time without conflict.
Fi Feng introduced each with dramatic flair, though none could match the earlier drama.
There were weapons that shimmered like moonlight—a sword forged from the bones of a beast of abyss, a spear engraved with phoenix flame runes said to pierce through mountain barriers. The crowd admired, even desired, but no one dared to turn the room into chaos again.
Then came the elixirs. Pills that promised breakthroughs to Nascent Soul, restoration of shattered meridians, even healing of broken dantain.
Next, herbs and relics. Each item, though wondrous, was bid with restraint as no one wanted to risk provoking another Saint.
But then—
The final item was brought forth.
Two attendants walked forward, carrying a carefully sealed jar glowing faintly with a soft, golden light.
No decorative fabric, no grand design. Just a plain-looking jar… and yet it radiated power.
Fi Feng’s voice cracked for just a moment, before steadying. He bowed slightly towards the Sapphire Lobby, though the monk had long vanished.
“This item,” he said, “is the last submission of the day.”
The moment it was placed at the center of the stage, a ripple passed through the room.
“This jar contains… something our experts could not name. But what we do know is that it holds a form of Qi we have never encountered.”
A silence filled the hall.
“It is… pure. Untouched.”
He let the words settle.
“We are calling it the True Source.”
Several gasps rang out.
“The highest form of Qi we’ve ever recorded,” Fi Feng added, almost whispering. “Some speculate… this might be the key to breaking through beyond the Saint realm.”
Now the silence was not just awe—it was terror.
To break past the Saint realm?
The bidding began.
“Five hundred!””Seven hundred!””Nine hundred!””One thousand!”
Voices climbed, desperate, trembling with greed and fear and hope. Even a few great sects envoys who had remained quiet the entire auction finally raised their hands.
But it didn’t last long.
Amid the chaos, a single voice rang out:
“Two thousand high-grade crystals.”
It was Heavenly Moon.
Her tone wasn’t loud, yet it ended all sound.
No one dared raise their hand after that.
Even Fi Feng did not hesitate this time. He bowed deeply, head nearly to the stage.
“Sold… to Saint Heavenly Moon.”
And the crowd could only sit there, breathless.
They didn’t know what it was.
But they knew one thing for certain—
The True Source wasn’t from their world.
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