CHAPTER 608: KILLIAN’S DESCENT INTO MADNESS

Although maybe the break had been beneficial.

Because if they had just gone through with the meeting—setting times, arranging logistics, arguing over which noble families should be invited—then wouldn’t they have ended up redoing everything?

Yes. Absolutely yes.

Especially after seeing the so-called rejected weapons that Luca had prepared for the auction.

In fact, there could have been even more items if they had included all the rejects. However, after being thoroughly lectured by Big Brother Killian and Master Quinn, they were forced to eliminate anything made from "unheard-of materials."

That basically wiped out everything Luca had crafted with purified trash cube alloys. Which was, in Luca’s eyes, a shame.

But perhaps he was the only one who thought so. Because everyone else who gathered to look at the items simply could not understand Luca’s definition of rejects.

It even required Master Quinn to explain.

"Our Young Lord is of the mind that if we are to do something, it should be done in the best possible way. Therefore, for his people, it is important to give only the very best, especially when it is clearly possible." Master Quinn said, his voice trembling as though he was holding back tears.

Those listening thought he was moved. They thought he was touched beyond words. But in truth, Master Quinn was quivering because he still remembered how they nearly perished from failing to meet the passing rates when the boy had first forced them to polish every single part to perfection.

Ah, how time flies!

Now they were able to churn out base mecha models continuously, having mastered the selection of flawless materials that yielded the perfect polish.

Ehem. Of course, it was not exactly something to be proud of, considering they were still unable to polish imperfect parts to perfection. But their Young Lord had declared that it was no problem, so they carried on.

It was just that even Master Quinn still worried about the "worst" items that were being auctioned. Because their worst looked suspiciously like everyone else’s dreams. A good thing for progress, yes, but perhaps a very bad thing for safety.

And then there was Killian.

He stood by the long table, scanning each item on display with a stiff face, muttering aloud as though reading off a funeral list.

"A-grade Alloy Arm Actuator... durability, seventy-eight percent... CF value, seventy-two percent..."

His eyes narrowed, moving to the next.

"Knee stabilizer rotors... durability, eighty-one percent... CF value, seventy-five percent..."

Around the table he went, muttering like a priest at a wake, each number he spoke making the room feel heavier.

The deeper he went, the worse it became. Except it was not worse at all. It was too good. Far, far too good.

By the time he reached the S-grade weapons, Killian’s muttering sounded less like a soldier’s report and more like the groaning curses of a ghost bound to its doom.

"Retractable Blade-Wing... Materials... Aetherium veins with Spirit-tempered alloys..."

"A Heavy Arm Shield... Materials... Beast-bone core plated with Binding Titanium..."

"A Forged Sword... Materials... CF value, eighty-two hundred... Voidfang Alloy core with phase-honed edge..."

Each number rolled off his tongue like a dirge, his voice dropping lower and lower as though he were being dragged into despair.

Those who listened could only stare at Luca’s rejects with disbelief.

Killian, however, kept going. His face was dark, his muttering relentless. And then—something shifted.

The corners of his mouth twitched. His breath hitched. And suddenly, the man who had been mumbling like a ghost let out a laugh. Then another. Until the chamber was echoing with the low, unhinged laughter of someone who had seen too much.

Because what kind of security would be needed for an event like this?

What if they simply surprised everyone? No announcements, no plans, just throw the rejects into the world and let nobles and criminals fight it out together. Because clearly someone had a death wish.

Or maybe he had a death wish.

Or maybe he was this close to going insane.

The laughter grew until it cracked, loud and wild, his shoulders shaking as his voice echoed against the walls.

And then, just as suddenly, he stopped.

Breathing out slowly, he straightened, the madness slipping into something eerily calm.

As if, by falling off the edge, the madman had reached enlightenment.

The deranged smile on his face made it clear: Killian Nox had found zen through insanity.

And Luca, completely oblivious, only tilted his head and said, "Ah, but these were failures. Since then, we’ve really tried to produce better ones."

"..."

Everyone else looked one step away from fainting.

But Killian really wasn’t the only one to fully understand the logistical nightmare they were about to face.

Even the Marquis—who had already been rattled earlier with planet-shattering news about his son—could not believe what they were preparing to auction.

It wasn’t just one or three good items.

They had seen certain parts before, yes, but seeing them assembled into entire systems graded this way was something else entirely. Because clearly, it wasn’t just a single high-grade piece. Entire systems had uniform ratings. That meant if they were taken apart, each component would still sell for the price of a mecha on its own.

"Luca, Master Quinn... with items like this, shouldn’t we actually send invitations to the other master mechanics?" the Marquis asked, looking like a man caught between reason and his survival instincts. He had a strange feeling he would be flooded with hate mail—or worse, assassins—if he dared hold an auction of this magnitude without them. Originally, he would only have invited them if raw high-grade materials were on the table, but with this? Wouldn’t his life be over the moment word spread?

Especially if word spread AFTER the auction was over?

"What?!" Luca’s golden eyes widened in surprise. "My Lord, you weren’t originally going to invite them?!"

He had assumed people like that were far too important not to be invited.

It was Master Quinn who explained patiently, "Young Lord, it’s not because of disrespect. By custom, master mechanics only expect to be summoned when auctions involve raw materials. The ancients claimed they were too busy and would complain if invited to events where parts had already been crafted by other hands. But considering all this..." He trailed off, his voice tight.

The Marquis rubbed his face, muttering, "So best to extend the invitation before they storm the palace themselves."

"Yes. And if in the future they discover we sent the invitations, then they will only have themselves to blame if they choose not to come," Master Quinn added. His expression was grim, though inwardly he was praying to avoid back-to-back whining calls from outraged old men whose hearts could not withstand this kind of shock. If even one of them collapsed from heartache, who would they blame?

Him. Definitely him.

And since their Young Lord didn’t seem troubled that such people would be invited, then it would be best to just send them the invites too. Also, it would help mask his appearance at the auction. If all the mechanics were invited, then he wouldn’t look like the odd one out.

Yes, that should work.

However, Master Quinn’s thoughts were interrupted by an eager shout.

"Wow!"

It was Jax.

"Luca! This shield is amazing! Can I just buy it from you directly? I’m a heavy mecha user, I’d actually appreciate it more than anyone! I swear I’ll use it well!" His ears perked as he leaned closer, looking as though he had already claimed it in his heart.

The question caught Luca off guard. Everyone else had been pale and close to suffocating just from seeing the items. Yet here was Jax, glowing with excitement like a child in a candy shop.

But Luca only shook his head firmly. "But Jax, this isn’t good for you!"

"Huh?! Why?!" Jax blinked in disbelief, his imaginary tail flicking in protest. "I swear I’ll figure out how to use it!"

"But... I already made you a better one!" Luca blurted out.

"!!!"

The room froze.

Jax, who only seconds ago looked like a drenched dog begging for scraps, now perked up like a pup spotting steak. His ears twitched, his tail went stiff, and then his entire face glowed with delight.

"What?! You really did?!" He practically lunged toward Luca, eyes sparkling.

Luca, realizing he had just spilled a very large secret, covered his mouth, but it was too late. Playing with his fingers in embarrassment, he admitted, "Well... the weapons here are actually the rejects from when I was making custom gears..."

"!!!"

Everyone froze again.

"Yeah... because I heard the Astral Cup would be challenging, so I wanted to gift new gears..." Luca squirmed, his cheeks reddening until he looked like a tomato. "I already finished most of them because I was able to get great help, but I wanted to wait until the mechas were all done so everyone could see them together!"

He shifted awkwardly as every pair of eyes bore down on him. "B-but since you already know, I guess I should just release the finished ones now... so you can register them and... and play with them..."

Silence.

The people watching the golden-eyed mechanic squirm weren’t sure how to react.

Because really—who just handed out mechas and custom gear as gifts?

Oh.

Right.

Of course.

Luca.