THE 200 MILLION PURCHASE

                     Lord Khyronis Pov

“Two hundred million!”

The number exploded again through the hall, echoing against the golden walls and shaking every heart in the room. 

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to freeze. Faces turned, eyes widened, and a murmur spread like wildfire through the crowd. 

“Two hundred million. It wasn’t just a bid, it was madness, history in the making.” I heard someone said 

The auctioneer’s hand trembled as he clutched the gavel. 

His forehead gleamed with sweat, his mouth dry as if the figure itself had stolen the air from his lungs. He stuttered at first, his lips moving before the sound came out.

“Two hundred million… g-going once!”

The hall went deathly silent. 

The sea of rich men and women, draped in silk and jewels, leaned forward in their seats. 

Their eyes glimmered with hunger, envy, disbelief… each one wishing it had been them bold enough to call out that price. No one breathed. 

No one dared interrupt. Hahaha, it looks like they can't beat this man who bade 200 hundred million which made me smile a little, and it was as though the air itself had been chained to the auctioneer’s voice.

“Going twice…”

His voice cracked, and I almost laughed. Almost. I shouldn’t have, but I did. A sharp, bitter laugh tore from my throat, muffled by the tape pressed against my mouth. 

The sound was ugly, broken, but real. For a second, I wanted the whole hall to hear it, to know I wasn’t afraid.

But I was.

My chest burned, tight with rage I couldn’t release. 

Every beat of the gavel in his hand was like a hammer striking against my ribs, pounding me deeper into this cage, into this nightmare. 

I wanted to move, to fight, but my limbs were bound, and all I could do was sit and wait for the sentence to fall.

And then…

Slam!

The gavel came down with finality, a sound so sharp and final it seemed to split the world in two.

“Sold!”

The word rang out like a verdict. A judgment. A curse.

The room erupted. Applause thundered, cheers broke out, whispers tangled in the air like snakes. 

They all clapped as though they had witnessed a spectacle worth celebrating. 

They cheered as though I were a prize, a treasure, a rare jewel bought at an impossible price. 

Their voices crashed around me like waves in a storm, but through it all, I heard only one word.

Sold.

It echoed inside me, heavier than chains, sharper than knives. Sold.

My jaw clenched so hard that the tape bit into the corners of my lips. Blood pricked at my skin, metallic and bitter. I wanted to spit it out, to roar against the silence forced upon me, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

Then, he stood.

The masked man.

The one who had thrown two hundred million onto the table as if it were nothing. 

His shadow fell long across the polished floor, stretching until it reached the cage where I sat. His presence made the air grow colder, heavier, as though even the walls bowed to his will.

The crowd parted for him without a word.

No one dared to block his path. He walked forward with quiet, terrifying confidence, and behind him, six men followed in perfect silence.

Six guards. Six hounds of war, I'll say.

Their steps echoed in rhythm, boots striking the floor like the beating of a drum, like a march to the gallows.

For the first time, I realised… 

Whatever fate awaited me had already been sealed.

The auction was over. My freedom was gone. My life was no longer my own.

The cage door swung open with a groan.

Rough hands grabbed at me, yanking me forward as though I were nothing but a sack of grain. My wrists ached against the ropes, my body stumbling under their force.

I didn’t resist. Not because I couldn’t oh, how I wanted to… but because I knew it was useless in this form. My powers were gone. My strength is sealed. For now, I was only flesh and blood in their hands.

A cloth bag was shoved over my head, scratchy and damp, stinking of dust and sweat. 

Darkness swallowed me whole. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe properly. I couldn’t tell where I was being taken.

All I could hear were their footsteps, steady and merciless, dragging me across the floor. The sound of the cheering crowd faded behind me, swallowed by silence.

Then.. lights. Or rather, the absence of them.

*****

When I opened my eyes, light slipped into my vision. For a moment, I didn’t understand where I was. 

My breath caught in my throat as I looked around, every detail unfamiliar.

The ropes that had cut into my skin during the auction were gone. My wrists were free, my arms unbound. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could move my hands. 

But when I tried to stand, the bitter truth revealed itself.. my legs were still chained. Cold iron bit into my ankles, reminding me that freedom was nothing more than an illusion.

I straightened my back and pushed myself upright. 

Beneath me was something soft, foreign, almost gentle. A bed. Humans used it for sleep, I had seen enough of their world to know that much. 

It felt strange, almost insulting, to be laid upon such comfort after being sold like cattle.

I stayed still. Silent. My body tensed like a bowstring, my ears straining for any sound. 

I didn’t know where I was, or who had brought me here. All I knew was that I had been sold, for two hundred million and now I was caged again, only in a different form.

Minutes passed, heavy and slow. Then…

Knock. Knock.

A sound at the door.

Followed by a voice, muffled but clear.

“Are you awake, sir? If you are, please… Can you say something?”

I did not answer. My lips remained sealed, my throat locked. Why should I speak? I owed them nothing. 

Besides, I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know who they were. To speak now would be to surrender a piece of myself, and I refused.

Silence stretched. Then the door creaked open.

A young woman stepped inside, her eyes immediately finding me on the bed. 

She smiled, polite but cautious, as though I were both a guest and a danger. 

Two more women followed behind her, each carrying things I didn’t recognize, folded towels and clothes. 

Servants.

I see.

“You’re awake,” the first woman said softly, her smile fading into something sharper. “But refused to speak. Is that it?”

Her words grated against my ears. A human addressing me so casually, so directly, it was almost laughable. 

I locked eyes with her, my silence deliberate, my expression cold. Why would I lower myself to respond?

She didn’t flinch.

“Sir,” she said, her tone firm now, “we will be bathing you. I advise you not to act foolishly. Master Caelum won’t find anything amusing about disobedience, and he will not tolerate it. I hope I’ve made myself clear?”

Her gaze lingered on me, sharp as steel, waiting for my reaction.

Inside, my anger simmered. A mortal speaking to me as though I were beneath her. 

A servant daring to lecture me, to throw her master’s name in my face like a threat. I wanted to laugh. 

I wanted to tear the chains apart and show them what kind of creature they had dragged from that auction hall.

But I didn’t.

I sat still, silent as stone, my thoughts dark and burning.