Chapter 269

Chapter 269: Blue Truth Sect

Only three kinds of people would expose their identities at high-stakes auctions involving massive funding transfers. The first were reckless madmen, the second ignorant fools unaware of the world’s cruelty, and the third were arrogant members of powerful factions who feared no consequences.

The Venus Auction House clearly wouldn’t invite madmen or fools to cause trouble. That left only the third type in box No. 9.

As the curtain dropped, four figures emerged instead of one. Two guards stood flanking their master – a man and woman judging by their builds. Both wore heavy black magical armor and magic-imbued longswords, their cold eyes visible through ornate masks.

Murmurs swept through the crowd. Normally these elite buyers wouldn’t glance at guards, but these were level 60 practitioners.

Post-awakening, each 10-level gap meant everything. A level 52 practitioner with perfect awakening, strong weapons, and ancient heritage might challenge level 59 opponents. But level 60? Impossible.

Reaching level 60 from 59 required great will and talent. Some even called it a "minor awakening" for its transformative power. In the Sea of Clouds where experts thrived, level 60 practitioners could dominate Sky Arena exhibition matches as floor masters.

Yet here in box No. 9, two such elites stood as ordinary guards. What kind of master did they serve?

All eyes turned to the central figure matching the deep voice – a middle-aged man with contemptuous eyes and one striking feature: a completely bald head.

He wore no fine tailored suit, but a blue-gold embroidered robe covered in symbolic patterns. This was no ordinary garment, but clerical vestments of the Blue Truth Sect. Midi, having lived previous lives in the Sea of Clouds, instantly recognized a bishop’s robe.

"I am Marlan, Blue-Robed Bishop of the Blue Truth Sect’s Monsoon Temple," the bald man declared coldly. "Box No.7! Stop cowering behind curtains if you dare bid against me. Withdraw your offer now if you value your safety."

Gasps filled the hall. Even the unflappable dark elf auctioneer paled. Publicly demanding bid retractions broke all auction rules – a direct insult to Venus Auction House and the entire industry.

If threats replaced bidding, why hold auctions? Might as well seize items by force. Marlan had angered both crowd and hosts, yet his Blue Truth Sect status made this possible.

Compared to regional powers like Sky Arena or Monsoon Fleet, the Blue Truth Sect loomed like a spider enveloping the Sea of Clouds in its web. Their temples stood in every major territory – Sky Arena included – as extensions of their influence.

Some factions had banned Blue Truth temples from their floating islands. Those who did mysteriously vanished – some crushed by temple forces, most collapsing internally from sudden power struggles as if cursed.

From that moment, no one dared oppose the Blue Truth Sect’s temple constructions.

No faction could halt their infiltration and expansion.

Over centuries, the sect had erected temples across nearly every inhabited floating island in the Sea of Clouds. These interconnected temples spread like giant tree roots, greedily draining resources from each island to fuel their growth. The sheer density of temple markers on maps extinguished any thought of resistance.

Even Midi, a reincarnator bearing past-life memories, regarded the Blue Truth Sect as his greatest concern upon arriving in the Sky Cloud Sea. Their dominance was such that infiltration attempts seemed futile.

Yet caution didn’t equate to fear.

Until his own faction matured, Midi maintained low-profile avoidance of this colossal entity.

But if provoked – especially when they targeted his guaranteed hit – he’d strike back mercilessly.

Compromising with bone-devouring monsters meant certain death.

Though unclear why Bishop Marlan coveted the impact-style ice-breaking technology, his attention demanded preemptive action.

Only by making elimination costs prohibitive could the sect be deterred.

This was Midi’s way.

After assessing the two level 60 guards and sneering bishop, Midi’s gaze settled on box No.9’s shadowy fourth occupant – features obscured by a hood.

Staring at the mystery figure, Midi finally taunted: "Bishop Marlan, are you admitting the Blue Truth Sect can’t afford 200,000 Crystal Coins?"

The auction hall buzzed. Marlan’s bald head flushed crimson, glowing with rage. If his earlier behavior was domineering, Midi’s retort became outright defiance.

Every major buyer present could produce 200,000 coins – they simply deemed ice-breaking tech unworthy. Marlan’s outburst stemmed from wounded pride, not financial lack. The Venus Auction House’s promised grand finale item required minimum 300,000 bids – all factions came prepared.

Midi’s rhetorical jab mocked both bishop and sect.

"Confirm the bid. Time’s expired." Midi told the dark elf auctioneer, bypassing Marlan’s sputtering.

The thirty-second confirmation period had lapsed during arguments. Normally got out of line, but the auctioneer – supported by irritated management – acted swiftly. Would Venus Auction break rules for bullies? Sacrifice business reputation?

The gavel fell like lightning.

"Wait-!" Marlan’s magic-charged shout came too late.

Simultaneously, paralyzing killing intent froze the bishop mid-protest. Though fleeting, it let the hammer strike home.

"SOLD! Impact-style ice-breaking technology to bidder 207 for 200,000 Crystal Coins!"

"Tell Santos to expedite transfer. Deduct from Ice Soul Pearl proceeds." Midi whispered to Victoria, maintaining combat readiness while rising.

"Are they that dangerous?" she asked. He’d slain kilometer-long cloud beasts casually, yet now tensed like facing annihilation.

"Level 60 guards? Trivial. Marlan? Less. That fourth shadow?" Midi’s eyes narrowed. "Problematic."

Victoria blinked. "Fourth person in box No.9?"