The guard quickly explained the situation, causing Aunt Valeria to furrow her brows.

  Not many people dared to cause trouble here. After all, it was common knowledge that I—a prince—was the owner of the Cyclebound Auction Hall. Anyone bold enough to stir trouble in this place was either extremely powerful… or utterly foolish.

  And a fool would have been thrown out by the guards long ago.

  Which meant the troublemaker was someone powerful.

  I already had a rough idea of what was happening, so I headed toward the entrance immediately. Aunt Valeria and Daphne were still frowning, but after exchanging glances, they sighed and followed after me.

  As soon as we arrived, I spotted the source of the commotion.

  A young man was shouting at the clerks, his voice sharp and mocking, while holding an antique vase in his hand. Behind him stood two armored soldiers and an elderly man. A crowd had gathered around them, whispering quietly as they observed the scene unfold.

  “I demand an explanation!” the young man shouted, his lips curled into a sneer. “I bought this vase here a few days ago. You claimed it was an original, yet it’s clearly a fake. How do you intend to explain this?!”

  “S-Sir, please calm down,” the female clerk replied shakily. “According to the rules, once an item leaves the auction hall, we are no longer responsible for—”

  “Are you implying that I fabricated this?!” the young man roared. “How dare you! Men—seize this woman.”

  He pointed at the clerk.

  The two soldiers immediately stepped forward.

  The woman’s face turned deathly pale. She tried to speak, but fear strangled her voice. Just as the soldiers reached out to grab her—

  “Stop.”

  My voice cut through the chaos like ice.

  The entire hall fell silent.

  Yet the soldiers didn’t stop. They continued advancing as if I didn’t exist.

  My expression darkened instantly.

  Without hesitation, I drew my sword and stepped forward.

  The two soldiers were only at the third layer of mana. The moment they sensed my killing intent, their faces paled. However, the young man behind them smirked and drew his own blade.

  “Don’t stop,” he sneered. “I want that woman dead.”

  The soldiers obeyed.

  His sword clashed with mine—but I sneered, parried it aside effortlessly, and stepped forward.

  Slash.

  Slash.

  “AAH!”

  The two soldiers screamed in agony as they collapsed to the ground. I hadn’t killed them, but their wounds were severe. Without immediate treatment, death was inevitable.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Once they were dealt with, I turned my gaze toward the young man.

  “Cedric Ravelle,” I said coldly, my voice echoing through the hall. “Who gave you the right to seize my people in my establishment?”

  A shiver ran through the onlookers.

  Cedric’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t expected to be overpowered so easily—especially since his mana layer was one level higher than mine.

  Shock quickly twisted into rage.

  “You… you injured my men!”

  “They were attempting to murder one of my clerks,” I replied flatly. “Did you expect me to stand by and watch?”

  “I was disciplining her!” Cedric snapped. “I demanded an explanation, yet this lowly commoner dared to insult me! I had every right to—”

  “Y-Your Highness, i-it’s not like that! He—”

  “Enough,” I said calmly, raising a hand. I nodded at the trembling clerk. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.”

  Then my gaze returned to Cedric, colder than steel.

  Cedric Ravelle was the nephew of the Empress—son of Lord Theodore Ravelle, one of the imperium’s most powerful generals, and brother to Isolde Ravelle, the Empress herself.

  Our relationship had always been hostile.

  He constantly sought opportunities to provoke me, yet never succeeded. Still, this was the first time he had dared to openly target my people—and accuse my business of selling counterfeit goods.

  Even if most people could see through the lie, the damage to our reputation would be real.

  It was obvious why he had come.

  Yesterday’s announcement had made certain people restless.

  “Explain,” I ordered coldly. “What exactly is wrong with the vase?”

  Cedric snorted but complied.

  “I purchased this vase here several days ago. This morning, I examined it carefully and discovered it was a fake. Imagine my shock—especially given your so-called reputation.” His lips curved into a malicious grin. “Perhaps this is why Evelyn Noctis refused to marry you.”

  My brows furrowed.

  One glance was enough for me to tell—the vase was genuine. He had clearly swapped it with a fake and brought it here to stage this farce.

  Mentioning my former fiancée only confirmed his intention: public humiliation.

  I released a faint pressure of mana.

  Cedric instinctively took a step back, then realized his mistake and clenched his fists in humiliation.

  “You know the rules,” I said. “Once an item leaves the auction hall, responsibility ends. And you’ve had the vase for days. Why notice only now?”

  “As I said, I only inspected it this morning,” he replied mockingly. “Surely you can make an exception—for my family.”

  We both knew it was nonsense.

  But I decided to indulge him.

  “Are you absolutely certain this vase is fake?”

  “Of course. Examine it yourself.” He smirked. “And you still owe me an explanation for my men.”

  I took the vase from his hands and examined it briefly.

  Then—

  I threw it to the ground.

  Crash.

  The vase shattered into hundreds of pieces.

  Gasps echoed throughout the hall.

  Ignoring the stares, I calmly picked up a shard and held it up.

  “Five-hundred-year-old clay,” I said evenly. “Looks genuine to me. What do you think?”

  I casually handed the shard to a nearby clerk.

  She froze, then quickly examined it.

  “Y-You’re right, Your Highness. I-It’s genuine.”

  “…What?” Cedric muttered.

  I passed another shard to the old man standing behind him.

  The old man examined it—and turned pale.

  “Y-Young Master… it’s genuine.”

  Cedric’s face twisted.

  “I think,” I said lightly, “you forgot to bring the fake and accidentally brought the original instead.” I chuckled. “What a shame. I destroyed it thinking it was counterfeit. Surely you won’t blame me for that?”

  His expression darkened, but he waved his hand sharply.

  “Let’s go. Take the injured with you.”

  “Wait,” I said.

  “What now?!” he snapped.

  “Do you truly believe,” I asked calmly, “that you can cause trouble here without consequences?”

  Before he could respond—

  Flash.

  In an instant, my sword moved.

  The heads of the two injured soldiers rolled across the floor.

  The blade pierced straight through the old man’s heart.

  Then, it stopped—hovering just a hair’s breadth from Cedric’s throat.

  His face went deathly pale.

  Fear consumed his eyes.

  I chuckled and withdrew my sword.

  “How utterly useless.”

  I no longer bothered concealing my true strength. Word of my earlier duel had already spread—it wouldn’t take long for the nobles to realize I possessed power at the sixth mana layer.

  At the very least, it would buy me some breathing room.

  Cedric staggered back, trembling, then turned and fled without a word.

  I looked around at the stunned crowd, cleared my throat, and spoke calmly.

  “The matter is resolved. Please do not block the entrance.”

  Moments later, the hall returned to normal.