Days passed, and soon it was the day before the academy officially opened.
All students had received an announcement—there would be a greeting held in the cafeteria. Attendance wasn't required, but for the six boys, it felt like the perfect chance to see who they'd be competing against.
"You guys ready?" Harkel asked, adjusting his academy-issued uniform. It was required for the event, and he wore it neatly.
"Yeah, yeah," Riven replied from the bathroom, finishing up as he stretched.
Riven already knew.
Harkel knew about the system. He knew about Luka's memories.
Riven didn't like that part—the whole going inside Luka's head thing—but him knowing about the system? That didn't bother him much.
At least… not until Harkel explained why it should.
⸻
Yesterday
"Riven, you need to keep your ability a secret," Harkel said firmly.
The three of them stood in a quiet part of campus, far enough away that no one could hear them.
"Why?" Riven asked. "I was gonna tell you and Leo anyway. And isn't it wrong to hide something like that?"
"You can trust us," Harkel said, "but others? Not so much."
Riven raised a brow.
"You're a Wallborn," Harkel added.
"Oh wow, really?" Riven shot back sarcastically.
Harkel sighed.
"What I'm trying to say is… people like you don't get the chance to grow. Wallborn with strong abilities are taken out early before they reach their full potential."
Riven's expression shifted slightly.
"…How do you know that?" Luka asked quietly.
Harkel rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze lowering.
"It happened when I was seven…"
⸻
"Father!"
A young Harkel ran down the hall, his voice echoing.
Shen turned at the call, his expression unreadable.
"Yes, Harkel?"
The boy's smile faltered slightly at the man's cold eyes.
"I heard you're going to an auction to get beast weapons for the clan. I was wondering if I could—"
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Harkel flinched.
"You're not old enough. Stay here."
Footsteps echoed as another figure approached.
"Are you ready to go, Father?" Axle asked, walking down the hall.
He was dressed sharply—royal blue tux, white shirt, black pants. Shen wore the same, but with a tie.
Axle glanced at Harkel.
"What is he doing here?"
"He asked to come. I rejected him," Shen said, checking the time on his sleeve watch. "Let's go. It's about to begin."
They walked away.
Harkel stood there, silent.
⸻
Outside, Shen stopped a guard.
"Get me Harkel's size in formal wear. Quickly."
"Yes, sir."
Minutes later, a box was delivered onto the ship.
Shen boarded without another word.
Axle sat by the window, watching as the Voss estate disappeared beneath the clouds. Soon, they were surrounded by the vast emptiness of space, stars stretching endlessly in every direction.
He wouldn't admit it, but he loved this view.
Then he noticed his father stand up.
Shen walked to the box, opened it… empty.
"…Not here?"
He frowned and headed downstairs toward the cargo hold.
Inside one of the crates, he paused.
A faint presence.
A small grin formed.
"I knew you wouldn't take no for an answer."
⸻
Moments later, Shen returned—dragging Harkel along.
Axle blinked.
"Him?"
"Here," Shen said, tossing him the clothes. "Put those on."
Harkel scrambled to change.
⸻
An hour later, the ship landed.
The planet was mostly ocean, deep blue stretching across its surface with small patches of land scattered throughout.
They landed on one.
As they stepped off, they were greeted by a man covered in jewelry—diamonds gleaming under the light. Wealth radiated off him.
But Harkel noticed something else.
His eye.
One of them was permanently turned to the side.
Harkel stared.
"Stop looking at his eyes," Axle muttered, nudging him. "I've waited years to come here. Don't ruin it."
"I'm not— you're the one looking," Harkel whispered back.
The man approached Shen with a wide smile.
"It's been a long time since a Voss has come here. I was starting to think your clan was avoiding this place."
Shen chuckled lightly, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"And who are these fine young gentlemen?" the man asked, stepping closer.
Shen immediately stepped in front of his sons.
"My children. They wanted to see the auction firsthand."
"Well, I hope you enjoy your time here," the man said.
Another man in a black suit approached.
"Sir Shen, your items have been collected. The auction will begin shortly."
The jeweled man walked off.
Axle leaned closer.
"Who was that?"
Shen's expression darkened.
"A bad person. Someone I never want you to become."
He paused.
"His name is Dura. He's a slave merchant."
Harkel frowned.
"A slave… buyer?"
"Don't tell me you don't know what a slave is," Axle said, disappointed.
"I know what it is, but why would anyone—"
"Sir, we need you inside," the staff member called.
Shen nodded.
"If you both behave, I might get you something from the sub-auction later."
The boys exchanged excited looks.
⸻
Inside, the building was filled with displays.
Weapons lined the walls—swords, bows, maces, greatswords—all encased in glass. Some pulsed faintly with energy, others looked ancient, worn by time.
Harkel's eyes moved across them.
Could one of my shadows use a beast weapon…? Or even wear beast armor?
The thought lingered, but quickly faded as they entered the main hall.
⸻
The auction room was vast but controlled.
Rows of seating curved toward a raised stage at the center, where a single platform stood under bright white light. Above it, a floating display projected clear images of whatever item would be presented, ensuring everyone had a perfect view.
Shen led his two sons to the back corner and took a seat. It was obvious to Harkel and Axle that their father didn't want to be near any of the rich and powerful figures filling the room. If anything, he wanted to be as far away as possible. One by one, more individuals entered, each carrying an air of status and influence, until the doors finally shut.
A man in a black suit with slicked-back hair stepped onto the platform.
"Ahem."
The simple sound cut through the room, silencing everyone almost instantly.
"Hello all, and welcome to the annual auction. I'd like to thank everyone for coming out, delivering their items, and giving us the chance to provide you with powerful beast weapons, rare items, and future servants or allies. Though there might have been a slight issue with that last part, we've moved past it."
A few quiet chuckles followed.
"As you all know, time is money… am I right?"
The room erupted into laughter.
Harkel blinked, confused. The joke felt weak, yet everyone laughed like it was the greatest thing they had ever heard. He glanced at Axle, but his brother looked just as lost.
"Alright, let's start small. A Rataclaw Level One sword. Starting bid is 500 units. Do I hear 600?"
A hand raised across the room.
"600. Do I hear 700?"
Another hand lifted.
The bids continued until the weapon was sold for 1,000 units.
"Why didn't you bid, Father?" Axle asked quietly.
Shen didn't take his eyes off the stage.
"The people here carry over a million units each. That kind of wealth gives them confidence. They can bid on almost anything and still have plenty left. Even a single unit can shift the outcome of a high-end item. It's better to wait."
Item after item was brought out, all ranging from Level One to Level Three. Their father didn't move once.
Then—
A new item appeared.
"Starting bid is 9,000 units. Do I hear 10,000?"
Both Harkel and Axle stiffened.
The jump was massive.
Level One started at 500. Level Two at 1,000. Level Three at 3,000. But this… this was something else entirely.
Shen raised a single finger.
"10,000."
"If you're wondering why Level Four equipment is so expensive," Shen said quietly, "it's because the increase in strength is drastic. The same applies from Level Four to Seven. The quality is on an entirely different level. These are the items worth bidding on."
"11,000."
Another man across the room raised his hand.
The same man who had been bidding all night.
Back and forth it went.
12,000.
15,000.
20,000.
25,000.
The tension grew heavier with each call.
"31,000."
Silence.
"Sold, to Shen Voss."
Harkel exhaled slowly. Even he could tell that man hadn't truly run out of money. Shen simply chose not to push further.
The auction continued, item after item being sold until a total of forty-one passed through the stage. Shen secured ten of them, all ranging from Level Four to Five.
"Now, we move on to the sub-auctions," the man announced. "Clothing, accessories, and other items. If you wish to bid, now is your chance."
Harkel and Axle straightened in their seats.
This was what they had been waiting for.
The first item was brought out.
It wasn't a weapon.
It was a shirt.
But the moment it appeared, the entire room seemed to quiet.
The fabric shimmered under the light, woven with threads so fine they almost looked like flowing liquid. Shades of deep midnight blue blended into soft silver, shifting subtly depending on the angle. The collar stood high and elegant, lined with faint glowing patterns that pulsed like a heartbeat. Along the sleeves, intricate designs stretched like veins of light, giving it a quiet sense of power.
But neither brother wanted it. They simply let it pass and watched as someone else placed a bid.
The next item appeared on the projector—a small blue vial.
"This here is a speed potion, conjured by one of our finest alchemists. It doubles your original speed for five minutes. Starting bid is 1,000 units."
Both Harkel and Axle showed interest, their eyes lingering on the vial, but not enough to use the single bid their father had promised them.
Shen noticed and smiled faintly. His sons were being patient, waiting for something truly worth it.
More items passed. Rare fabrics, enchanted accessories, minor artifacts. The brothers didn't raise their hands once.
Then—
"Now for one of our final items. There may be a slight issue with this one. Only a wallborn met the criteria this year. Hopefully, next year, more will qualify."
The display shifted.
Harkel's expression froze.
A boy appeared on the screen.
Dirty white hair. A face covered in grime. His body looked thin, almost fragile, like he hadn't eaten properly in days. He looked around their age—maybe slightly older than Axle.
"The starting bid is 500 units."
"500…?" Harkel said in his head. "That's low… especially for a human life."
"500? That's insane," someone nearby muttered. "It used to be 200. When did these wallborn get so expensive?"
Harkel's face twisted in disgust.
"Father… what is this?" Axle asked, his voice tight.
Shen didn't look at him.
"I told you, Axle, I didn't want you to come here. I didn't want you to see this. But eventually, you would have. This… is a slave. Someone with high potential, but born as a wallborn. Their parents sell them for money, and they're auctioned off to the highest bidder."
"600."
All eyes turned.
Dura.
He sat there with a smile, his hand raised calmly, like he wasn't bidding on a person.
The air felt heavier.
Axle clenched his fists.
"Dad," he said, tapping Shen's arm, "I've never asked for much… but this… I want to bid for him."
Shen paused.
He turned and looked at his son.
Axle's eyes were steady. There was no hesitation in them.
Shen understood.
Without another word, he raised his hand.
The bidding began.
700.
1,000.
5,000.
20,000.
100,000.
The numbers climbed rapidly.
Dura didn't back down.
Neither did Shen.
The room fell silent as the two continued, pushing the price higher and higher.
"300,000."
"400,000."
"500,000."
Shen's voice remained calm.
"655,000."
Silence.
Dura stared for a moment… then slowly lowered his hand.
"Sold. To Shen Voss."
Harkel didn't feel relief.
He felt sick.
The way they spoke about the boy… the way they bid on him… like he was nothing more than an object.
More items appeared, but Harkel didn't care anymore.
"Do you want anything?" Shen asked him quietly.
Harkel shook his head.
"I don't want anything from these people."
Shen nodded.
"Then we'll leave."
—
They stood near the ship as the purchases were brought in.
Crates of weapons were loaded one after another.
Axle watched silently… until something caught his eye.
"What the hell—?"
He walked forward quickly, Harkel following behind.
There—
The white-haired boy.
Locked inside a cage.
Like an animal.
Up close, it was worse. His body looked frail, almost starved. His clothes were torn. His skin was pale under the dirt.
"Get him out of there," Axle said, his voice firm.
One of the workers looked at him.
"I'm sorry, but you're not the one who purchased this item. You have no say."
"…Item?" Harkel stepped forward, his voice low. "He's a person."
"No. He's a wallborn. That makes him property. He was sold to us, and now he belongs to Shen Voss. So, brat, you—"
"How about you say that again in front of me."
The voice cut through everything.
Shen.
The worker froze instantly.
"Mr. Shen—"
"You were speaking to my son," Shen said, his tone calm but heavy. "So if you have a problem, you speak to me. Now tell me… what problem do you have with my son?"
The pressure in the air shifted.
The worker's face turned pale.
"I—I was just—"
"Let the boy out of the cage," Shen said. "He shouldn't have been in one to begin with."
"Yes, sir."
The worker rushed to unlock it.
The door creaked open.
But the boy didn't move.
He just sat there.
"…Come on," Axle said, stepping forward and grabbing his hand.
He froze for a second.
The boy was light.
Too light.
Axle gently pulled him up and led him onto the ship.
—
Inside, the boy sat in front of them, eating quickly, almost desperately, as if afraid the food would be taken away.
Shen approached.
"Boy," he said calmly. "What is your name?"
"…It used to be Matthew," the boy said quietly.
"It still is," Shen replied. "But your last name is now Voss… unless you want to choose something else."
Matthew looked up, confused.
"A choice?"
"Yes. You can return to your family… or you can stay with us. If you stay, you'll have a responsibility."
Matthew didn't hesitate.
"I want to stay. They sold me once… they'll do it again. I don't care what the responsibility is. I can handle it, I swear… master."
"None of that," Shen said immediately. "It's 'leader.' Understand?"
Matthew nodded quickly.
"Yes, leader."
Shen looked at Axle.
"Your responsibility," he said, his voice firm, "is to protect him."
Matthew's grip tightened slightly.
"You are his knight."