CHAPTER 116: SWEETS AND SUSPICION-END.

As the guards returned, Azhriel rested his fingers on his chin, lost in thought. The sudden appearance of elves had without a doubt caught his interest.

’Let’s investigate it a bit,’ he finally decided.

His gaze lifted, landing on Caelyn and Zephyriah, who were quietly eating one cake after another, completely lost in their own world.

’Zephyriah, I need to go somewhere. Can you stay with Caelyn for a bit?’ Azhriel spoke through their mind link.

’Hmm, okay,’ Zephyriah replied softly in his mind.

Azhriel stood, his chair scraping lightly against the floor. Caelyn looked up, tilting her head.

"Sorry, I just remembered something important. I think I need to go," he said, scratching the back of his head.

Caelyn stared at him for a moment, then nodded. She clearly understood what he planned to do, though she seemed far more interested in her dessert.

"Can you please take Zeph with you to the auction. I’ll meet you there later." he added.

"Fine. Just be careful not to get caught," she said, her tone calm but knowing.

"Haha, thanks. You can order more if you want. I’ll pay and go," Azhriel chuckled, realizing she’d already figured out his intention.

He walked to the counter, settled the bill, even left some extra coins in case they ordered more, and stepped outside.

The elven guards hadn’t gone far. He caught sight of them down the street and followed.

[Nullification used]

(Conceal)

A cold layer of mana wrapped around Azhriel’s body like a thin mist.

His presence vanished completely — no sound, no warmth, no aura. It was one of the abilities he’d unlocked after his last rank-up, perfect for situations like this.

Though not flawless for now, it would be enough as long as he kept his distance.

He moved quietly, following the group until they stopped at a crossroad.

The elves gathered together, and the one leading them, the same one who spoke to the manager — a tall man with sharp green eyes — spoke first.

"Jason, Arik, did you find any trace of the prince?" the leader, Kesos, asked.

"I’m sorry, sir," Jason said, shaking his head. His tone carried clear frustration.

"I’m sorry as well, sir," Arik added. "We couldn’t find the prince or Lady Maera. No one’s seen them."

Kesos let out a long sigh, his brow creasing. "We’ve been searching since morning and still nothing. It’s like they vanished into thin air."

Jason lowered his gaze. "Maybe they left the city?"

"No, we would have known about it." Kesos muttered, shaking his head. "If only we could find Lady Maera... she’d lead us straight to the prince."

Azhriel listened quietly from the shadows, his sharp eyes narrowing in thought. Prince... Lady Maera...?

Something was clearly wrong, and Azhriel had a strong feeling this was another deviation from the usual plot.

"Haa, jason how many places are left to search, we have to hurry?" Keeps asked.

"Sir, there are only three places left. In which one is slums, and another is the back alleys, as for the last place- The Grand Auction Hall. We can’t just barge into that place. It would without a doubt create tension between us and the city management." Jason replied.

"I see, then first we are gonna check the slums and back alleys, then we will go towards the Auction Hall." Kesos said.

"But sir-" Jason spoke.

"No, but’s. The Prince life is in danger, dp you think we have the time to think about creating tension between us and city. We will see all that later, if the Rutherford’s are unhappy." He continued.

"For now, nothing matter’s more than the Prince. Let’s go."

He listened to the guards a little longer, then quietly left them behind.

That was enough for him to piece together what had happened.

From what he’d overheard, the third prince and his personal bodyguard, Maera, had been kidnapped while traveling and were staying in Mosseira for rest.

’This is a serious problem,’ Azhriel thought as he walked.

He sighed softly, shaking his head as the thought lingered in his mind. The matter was dangerous—politically and socially—but at the end of the day, it had nothing to do with him.

The city’s warm golden hue reflected against the polished streets as Azhriel walked along, hands still buried in his pockets.

The faint scent of spice and roasted nuts drifted through the air, mixing with the sound of merchants calling out their wares.

’It’s best if I don’t meddle in things that don’t concern me,’ he thought, his gaze lowering. Even so, his instincts whispered otherwise. Things rarely deviated from the "plot" without a certain reason.

He stopped near a small fountain where sunlight glimmered off the flowing water, and for a moment, his reflection stared back at him—calm eyes masking a quiet tension.

"Still... a prince disappearing and the guards being so clueless?" He muttered under his breath. "Something’s stirring again."

But with a shrug, he turned away. "Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it if it crosses my path."

With that Azhriel started moving towards the place where auction will be held.

*****

As Azhriel stepped down from the carriage, the grand entrance of the Mosseira Auction Hall came into view.

The building was enormous—almost as large as the academy’s main auditorium—and bathed in a warm golden glow from the mana lamps lining its walls.

Dozens of carriages were parked outside, with guards standing at attention, their armor gleaming under the light. The air was filled with murmurs of nobles and merchants who had gathered from across the region for tonight’s event.

Azhriel walked toward the entrance, hands in his pockets. But just as he was about to step inside, a clear voice called out from behind him.

"Sir Azhriel."

He turned slightly, spotting a man dressed neatly in a butler’s uniform. The man quickly approached, bowing deeply the moment their eyes met.

"Sir, that’s not the proper way for a guest of your stature," the butler said respectfully. "You are our honored VVIP. Please, allow me to guide you to your personal bidding booth that has been prepared in advance."

"I see. Then, lead the way," Azhriel replied calmly, his tone polite but faintly detached.

Several people nearby turned to look, whispering softly when they heard the word VVIP.

’Good job, Phantom, Noel,’ Azhriel thought with a small smirk.

He had sent the two ahead of time to secure special access for him, and they had clearly done their part well.

Considering how much material Noel had bought recently for his potions and artifact research, gaining a high-tier pass was only natural.

Azhriel followed the butler down the carpeted corridor. The soft hum of conversation and the faint notes of instrumental music echoed from deeper inside.

"I must apologize, sir," the butler spoke again in a courteous tone. "The Auction Master wished to greet you personally, but he is occupied with final preparations at the moment."

"That’s fine," Azhriel replied simply. "I understand."

The butler smiled gratefully and continued to lead the way, the golden light reflecting faintly off Azhriel’s white hair.

"Here it is, sir," the butler said as he opened the door and gestured politely for Azhriel to enter.

The inside of the booth was elegant and quiet, carrying a faint scent of expensive perfume and polished wood — the kind of refined atmosphere only high nobles could afford.

The front wall was made of enchanted glass, allowing Azhriel to see the stage clearly while keeping the inside hidden from outside view.

The booth was high above the hall, giving it a perfect angle over the grand auction floor below, where attendants were still making preparations.

"Please press that button if you need anything, sir," the butler added, bowing slightly.

Azhriel nodded, letting the man leave. Once alone, he walked toward the cushioned seat near the center and sat down.

There was still a little time before the auction began, so he leaned back, crossing one leg over the other as his eyes briefly wandered over the glittering stage lights below.

Vrrr... Vrrr...

His wristband vibrated softly — a call coming in. Glancing at the name, he smiled faintly answering.

"Hey, Eli," Azhriel said casually.

"Azh, where are you?" Elizabeth’s voice came through the band, a little impatient. She’d been looking for him for quite a while since he’d promised to show up earlier.

"Me? I’m in the VIP lounge," he replied.

"VIP? What are you doing there?" she asked in curiosity.

"Of course, I’m waiting for the auction to start," Azhriel said, his tone calm, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"But—" Elizabeth started, then stopped herself with a sigh. "Actually, never mind. Just tell us the number of your booth. We’re all together anyway, we’ll come to you."

"Hmm, okay. I’ll send someone to bring you here," Azhriel said, ending the call.

He pressed the small silver button on the table. Within seconds, the door opened and a waiter in a dark uniform entered, bowing respectfully.

"Do you require anything, sir?"

"My friends are in Lounge Six. Could you bring them here?" Azhriel asked.

"Of course, sir," the waiter said with a polite smile.

"Thank you."

"It’s my duty, sir," the waiter replied before turning and leaving quietly.

The door clicked shut, and once again the booth fell into calm silence — only the distant murmur of the crowd below and the faint hum of mana lights filled the air as Azhriel waited.