“What the hell’s going on?” someone shouted.

  Across the street, Tarot instinctively pulled Lauren behind him for cover, just as a half-burned Dante came stumbling toward them. His robes were in tatters, his hair singed, and his face was pale as paper.

  “Dante?” Tarot asked, armed. “What happened? Who the hell’s fighting?”

  “Master… my master…” Dante coughed out, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “He’s fighting… with Immortal Herbert.”

  Tarot blinked. “Wait, those two balls of light up there are Herbert and Gerald?”

  “Yes…”

  Tarot frowned. “What are they fighting over? Don’t tell me it’s that damned Blood Qi Pill again.”

  Dante nodded weakly. “It is.”

  Tarot threw up his hands. “Unbelievable. One pill each, and they still can’t let it go?”

  “Immortal Herbert said he paid too much and wasn’t happy,” Dante expined, clutching his ribs.

  Tarot snorted. “Tch. Petty old bastard. It’s just a few dozen million spirit stones! Can’t believe he’s this stingy.”

  He turned and waved over the innkeeper. “Hey, you. After they’re done tearing each other apart, make sure they pay for the damn roof.”

  The innkeeper’s legs nearly gave out. “Sir, I wouldn’t dare!”

  Tarot rolled his eyes. “Fine. Then draft a bill and send it to Moonlit Sect ter.”

  “Y–Yes, sir.”

  By now, the fight had escated beyond belief.

  At their level, the ordinary eye couldn’t even see them clearly—just two raging spheres of light smming into each other, the shockwaves distorting the air. The Sunspire City Lord had no choice but to activate the city’s protective formation, its runes bzing across the skyline.

  Thankfully, both Gerald and Herbert had enough sense not to level the city; they fought midair, far from the streets below. Otherwise, no barrier would have held.

  Their battle drifted toward the outskirts, thunder and lightning crackling over the fields.

  The brave—or the stupid—ran after them, eager to witness the spectacle. After all, watching two near-immortal cultivators brawl was a once-in-a-lifetime show.

  The timid, on the other hand, stayed behind to gossip.

  “I heard it’s over that Blood Qi Pill!”

  “Seriously? Those two rich bastards from Rooms 38 and 39?”

  “Serves them right! They’ve been driving up prices all week!”

  Soon, everyone in Sunspire was buzzing with excitement, cheering for whoever could beat the other senseless.

  By the time the third auction day rolled around, the atmosphere was electric. Word of the Blood Qi Pills had spread across half the continent, and experts from every sect arrived, spirit stones jingling in their rings, hoping that Drake might pull out a third pill.

  But neither Herbert nor Gerald appeared that day.

  Dante sent word to Lauren that they’d both “returned to the mountain.” Which, transted, meant: they’d beaten each other half to death.

  Gerald was nursing his injuries; Herbert, apparently, was still furious enough to explode.

  With the two troublemakers absent, the third day’s auction was almost… peaceful.

  Lauren managed to acquire the Eternal Spirit Milk she’d been hunting for and leaned forward eagerly when the tenth and final item was unveiled.

  One by one, the ornate boxes were opened until the final container gleamed under the ntern light.

  Inside was… a bead.

  The crowd collectively defted.

  “Not a Blood Qi Pill?” someone groaned.

  Miss Lady smiled faintly. “This is a Memory Bead—a relic said to preserve fragments of the past. Its origin is unknown, but rumor has it it came from the Higher Realms.”

  “Photo Stone?”

  “No, no, it’s not a Photo Stone. A Photo Stone only records what’s happening in the moment. This bead can store memories.”

  “What’s the point of preserving memories? Does it have any other use?”

  “According to legend, this bead is a key ingredient for crafting a Ninth-Grade Talisman.”

  A Ninth-Grade Talisman? That sounded impressive, but without a Ninth-Grade Talisman Master, it was basically a shiny paperweight.

  “Besides talisman crafting, what else can it do?”

  “It’s from the higher realms,” the auctioneer said with a knowing smile. “Even we don’t fully understand its potential. If you’re curious, buy it and find out for yourself.”

  That was one hell of a sales pitch.

  Still, Lauren's pulse quickened at the mention of Kraken tears — Memory Beads.

  She discreetly sent a voice transmission to Edmund. Are those what I think they are?

  Edmund, still sulking because she hadn’t bought him a beast core earlier, gnced zily at the bead. “Yeah, those are Memory Beads.”

  Lauren’s eyes lit up. Perfect. Just a few days ago, she’d been fretting about where to find them — and now, they’d fallen right into her p.

  “Brother,” she said, turning to Tarot. “I want this.”

  Tarot frowned. “They say it’s from the higher realms, but that’s unconfirmed. We shouldn’t get scammed.”

  “Master said I can buy whatever I want.”

  Tarot sighed. “Don’t be like the headmaster. We only buy what’s useful. Wasteful spending burns through spirit stones and storage space.”

  Lauren crossed her arms. “I need it. One day, I’ll become a Ninth-Grade Talisman Master.”

  Tarot blinked, caught off guard, then chuckled. "Do you know which Ninth-Rank Talisman this is for?"

  “Yes. This is a key ingredient for a Substitute Talisman.”

  For a moment, Tarot just stared — then gave her a thumbs-up. “Alright, that’s some ambition right there. Just for that, I’ll buy it.”

  The starting bid was thirty million spirit stones, with increments of one hundred thousand.

  The room fell silent. No one moved.

  Everyone waited, gncing at each other, hoping someone else would make the first move.

  Thirty million wasn’t cheap — especially for something that might just be a pretty trinket. Even if it really was from the higher realms, if you didn’t know how to use it, it was just a collector’s item.

  Miss Lady, the auctioneer, shifted awkwardly behind her podium. No bids. She was about to announce it as unsold when—

  “Thirty million,” came a calm voice from Room Eight.

  A wave of murmurs swept through the hall.

  Room Eight — again.

  Everyone knew that was one of the VIP rooms, second only to the clients in Rooms Thirty-Eight and Thirty-Nine. Out of the thirty auction items so far, the guests in Room Eight had already cimed several — some minor trinkets, others priceless treasures like Strange Fire and Eternal Spirit Milk.

  Their bidding pattern was erratic and unpredictable, buying high or low without rhyme or reason. Some specuted that a Spirit Transformation cultivator was inside. Others thought it might be a lunatic with too many spirit stones.

  But one thing was clear — they bought whatever caught their fancy, logic be damned.

  Miss Si Li exhaled in relief and called once, twice, three times.

  No one else bid.

  The bead was sold — to Room Eight, for thirty million spirit stones.

  Inside the private room, Lauren leaned back with a satisfied smile. Memory Beads, at st.