Heavy Metal: Chapter 87 – Auction Starts. (Patreon)

"Are you going to take part?"

"Me? Nah, why would I waste my money on the entrance fee?"

"But there might be something good there."

"Hah, be my guest. Go fight it out with those rich merchants and high-level adventurers if you want. I'm saving that silver for some beer."

“Now that sounds like a good investment. Count me in!"

The two men laughed as they eyed the small line of people gathered outside the local auction house, waiting for it to open. Today was the day of the grand auction, but the only way in was by paying a steep entrance fee - a clear attempt to keep poorer patrons from participating.

Rusty was nearing the end of his journey. Two days had passed, and now, after braving the lower labyrinth floors and battling the toughest orcs and lizardmen, he stood before the grand auction house. His worn metallic frame was patched up, gleaming faintly in the soft light of the evening sun. He’d done it. He’d gathered the gold he needed. It wasn't easy - pushing himself to the brink, taking on groups of stronger monsters, and trading the spoils of war. But now, the moment of truth had arrived.

The auction house was grand, towering above the market square, with golden accents and banners fluttering in the breeze, bearing the symbol of Luxe Auction House. Rusty watched as the well-dressed crowd mingled and gossiped, exchanging knowing glances and discussing their latest acquisitions. Some looked like nobility but there were also others like him, wearing bulky armor and clearly adventurers. They were all gathered here with one goal: to win something rare and valuable. But for Rusty, it wasn’t about treasure. His prize was much more personal - the chance to save Gleam, his friend and only companion.

Rusty had shifted into his Albert form, appearing as an unremarkable yet well-armored adventurer, blending seamlessly into the crowd. As he stood there, memories of Gleam, his small ant companion, resurfaced. He remembered how she had fought fiercely to save him in the dungeon's depths and the caves below. Twice she had saved his life - once by carrying his helmet away from the monster beetles, and another time by rescuing him from the spiders. However, she had been captured by humans and had been missing ever since. Today, Rusty vowed to finally end all of this and bring her back. 

He approached the entrance, catching a glimpse of the rich crowd, some eyeing him with suspicion, others ignoring him entirely. The entrance fee was steep, but Rusty had more than enough to pay it now. He handed over the coins, and the guards stepped aside, allowing him entry.

‘This is supposed to be a grand auction house? It looks like an overgrown shack.’

‘It looks fine to me.’

‘Hah, not that I expected you to have an eye for these things, hero.’

While waiting, Rusty heard Aburdon and Alexander’s voices echoing inside his helmet. He wasn’t truly alone as the spirits of both the deceased demon and the hero were with him today. Rusty had chosen to bring them along for this occasion, uncertain of what the day might hold. Each guide had their strengths and weaknesses. They were constantly bickering and clashing with one another but if it meant getting Gleam back, Rusty was willing to endure their arguments. Between the two of them, one was bound to have the right answer for whatever lay ahead.

‘Quiet down you two, you’re making me nervous!’

‘Are you turning more human, I didn’t think suits of armor could become nervous?’

Aburdon responded in a slightly mocking tone. Rusty wasn’t sure if he was nervous as he only knew the word existed and that this seemed like a moment when a person might feel that way. His body lacked the physiology to experience emotions like a true human, but for some reason, a strange tingling sensation spread through his helmet. It was similar to what he felt when facing a powerful opponent capable of ending his life. 

Rusty took his place in the queue and waited patiently. The auction was set to begin in about an hour, but a large crowd had already gathered. One thing he noticed was that there were two entrances, and one allowed people to enter much faster. A closer look revealed a difference between the two lines: in his line, most were adventurers or modest merchants wearing worn-out clothes, while the other entrance was filled with better-dressed individuals who didn’t resemble warriors or any adventurer types he had seen before.

‘This must be the class divide Alexander spoke about.’ 

After arriving in the city, Rusty had worked hard to fit in, and part of that meant understanding the local culture. The people of various intelligent races seemed to divide themselves into groups. Some of these divisions were based on race, but others depended on wealth. Adventurers were a unique group, mingling with each other regardless of race or background. But above them all were the nobles - people who commanded respect and were not to be offended.

The nobility were the true rulers here, a hard pill to swallow for someone like Rusty, who was a monster. In his world, strength or victory in battle determined who was right. Yet, time and again, he had encountered weak individuals who were feared and revered, protected by much stronger guards who could easily slay them. It was baffling. The world wasn’t only driven by the greed for money but by strange blood ties and inherited power - concepts he, as living armor, couldn’t fully grasp.

"Please, present your coins. If you do not have the entrance fee, kindly move along," a voice called out, breaking his thoughts.

Eventually, he arrived at the front of the queue, and Rusty reached into his pouch, handing over the required coins. The guard glanced at them, then nodded in approval, allowing Rusty to step inside. The Luxe Auction House interior was vastly different from its unassuming exterior - a grand hall stretched before him, illuminated by glowing orbs of light suspended in midair. Rows of cushioned seats lined the room, each facing a grand stage draped in crimson curtains. Above, intricate chandeliers sparkled, casting an ethereal glow over the hushed crowd that had already gathered.

Rusty scanned the room. A lot of the attendees were wealthy merchants or perhaps nobles, their affluence evident in their extravagant outfits and the entourage of servants or bodyguards accompanying them. They sat in personal booths overlooking the lower level of the auction, where Rusty needed to find a free spot among the other regular adventurers.

The venue was neat and clean, with guards stationed almost everywhere. He took a moment to assess his surroundings and had his guides check for the best escape routes. Retrieving Gleam had been his mission from the start, and he intended to see it through, even if it meant resorting to drastic measures. While weapons weren’t permitted, armor was allowed. He had been thoroughly searched for any hidden weapons and was eventually granted entry. However, this didn’t concern him; by activating one of his loadouts, he could be fully armed with everything he needed.

Rusty had prepared various contingencies for a quick getaway if the attendees refused to return Gleam. Although Alexander disapproved of the idea, Rusty was ready to unleash poison, darkness, and alchemical bombs if it meant getting his friend back. He had no intention of living as an adventurer and would flee at the first opportunity. But that was merely a contingency plan - something to be executed only in a time of crisis.

His guides, Aburdon and Alexander, had finished checking for potential threats and escape routes. Their voices were hushed now as they quietly observed the unfolding scene. The auction hadn't started yet, so he took the opportunity to listen in on the conversations around him.

"What are you aiming for?"

"I heard they'll be selling some elixirs. You?"

"I'm waiting for a boss monster core. I heard they’ll be auctioning those off today - I need one for my sword."

"Those guild bastards always try to monopolize those..."

"Yeah, but what can you do?"

The chatter was somewhat interesting, but it didn’t help him figure out when Gleam would be presented. There were a lot of people here, and from what he understood, the auction had three phases. First, some mediocre items would be presented to get things going. Only after that would the truly valuable items be rolled out. Once that was done, a final round of lesser items would be auctioned off to close the day. Alexander had told him it was best if Gleam appeared among the last items, as it would make it much easier to buy her back. Most of the wealthy merchants and nobles wouldn’t stay until the end, leaving him a chance to get her at a lower price.

The auction's crowd grew and eventually, a large portion of the seats had been filled. Merchants exchanged rumors, adventurers whispered strategies, and the wealthy flaunted their riches with subtle gestures of arrogance. A soft chime echoed through the room, followed by the quieting of the audience. The auctioneer appeared - an older man in a lavish crimson robe and a black top hat. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Luxe Auction House's grand event of the month!"

Rusty listened to him speak, the tone sounded a lot different as it was somewhat theatrical and overblown. The same could be said for his hand gestures that he performed with almost every word he spoke.

"Tonight, you will witness rare treasures, powerful artifacts, and beasts not seen in the wild for decades. Remember, fortune favors the bold. So, place your bids wisely."

Some people from the crowd leaned forward, captivated by the man's presence. Others sighted as if they had seen the same words be spoken on multiple occasions, and wanted him to just move on with it. Rusty stayed still, his metallic form stuck in place as he waited with anticipation.

While the man talked, he noticed the wooden paddle resting against the armrest of his seat. The number "45" was printed on it, representing him and his seat for the auction. When bidding, he would need to raise the paddle and wait for the auctioneer to confirm his offer. The last person to hold up their paddle would be declared the winner. Once the bidding concluded, he would follow the auction house staff to claim his winnings.

“Now then, let the auction begin!”

The auctioneer’s grand proclamation was met with a bout of polite applause as the first item was brought onto the stage - a simple ring of minor enchantment, said to enhance the wearer’s stamina. Rusty’s eyes remained fixed on the stage, but his mind was elsewhere, fixated on Gleam and the mission at hand. He didn't care about these early items; they were bait to warm up the crowd. As the auctioneer listed off the ring's properties, Rusty decided to make a recount of all the money that he had in possession. 

Alexander had advised him to gather around twenty gold coins to be safe, but he had managed to collect five more. It was quite a sum, considering one gold coin could sustain a family of four for a month. For adventurers, though, things were far more expensive, and their items often sold at exorbitant prices. He had robbed others, slain monsters, and sold nearly his entire stash of metals from his storage. There was nothing left in his possession that he hadn’t pawned off. Now, it was time to spend it all.

The bidding started small, with a few casual adventurers throwing up their paddles, hoping to buy the item at a lower price than usual. Rusty kept his number 45 paddle down as there was only one thing he was here for. As the first few rounds progressed, the auctioneer introduced increasingly valuable items: enchanted weapons, rare potions, and even some unidentified relics recovered from ancient ruins. Rusty noticed the room's energy shift, with each item commanding higher bids and drawing the attention of the wealthier patrons.

He had no interest in the relics or magical items being auctioned off, but the constant vagueness of the auction was starting to gnaw on him. There was no way of knowing for him that Gleam was even here and with each no item presented, he worried more. Aburdon’s voice echoed in his mind, trying to keep him grounded. 

‘Relax, Rusty. Keep calm. You’ve planned for this. If something goes wrong, you can just kill them all! Just drench this place in your darkness, and it will all be over! That’s why we bought all those mana potions! ’

‘I agree with Aburdon… just not with the last part. Stop trying to get Rusty to kill everyone, you insane bastard! ‘

Alexander chimed in but also seemed annoyed by the demon lord’s words. 

‘Stick to the plan. Most of the big spenders are here for more lucrative items. I bet no one here will even go over ten gold coins.’

‘I hope so…’

The auction continued, and the crowd wasn’t thinning—in fact, even more people were arriving. The first phase had come to an end, and a brief ten-minute break was announced. Some people took the opportunity to visit the restrooms, while others grabbed a bite to eat or even drank alcohol. Rusty remained seated, still as a statue, though he had to stand a few times to let people in and out of the row. Eventually, the auctioneer returned and began speaking again.

The second phase of the auction began, with a hushed excitement sweeping through the crowd. The auctioneer’s voice became more intense, reflecting the anticipation of what was to come. It was time for the rare, valuable items - the ones that had drawn in the wealthiest patrons and the most determined adventurers. Rusty’s focus sharpened. He could feel the tension building in the room as higher bids were being placed, and more exclusive items were unveiled.

The first item in this phase was a brilliantly crafted sword, said to be infused with the essence of an ancient storm wyvern. The blade crackled with faint sparks of lightning, drawing gasps from the crowd. Bidding was fierce, with wealthy merchants and adventurers throwing up their paddles, eager to outbid one another. Rusty kept his paddle down, ignoring the murmurs and rising excitement. 

Next came a large dragon’s scale, shimmering with an iridescent glow. It was rumored to hold the essence of the beast’s regenerative power, capable of being forged into powerful armor. The price skyrocketed, leaving only the richest still competing for it. The gold coins that he managed to gain paled in comparison to the endless coffers these rich nobles and merchants possessed.  

Finally, after what felt like hours, the crowd began to thin. Some of the wealthiest patrons, having won their treasures, were leaving with smug smiles, their entourages carrying their new acquisitions. The energy in the room dipped as the auctioneer moved into the final phase, which Rusty hoped would bring the one thing he had waited for, Gleam.

The next few items were far less impressive - trinkets, lesser magical items, and rare herbs -  but still, there was no sign of Gleam. Rusty’s anxiety was rising, and even Alexander’s calming words weren’t helping. Aburdon kept silent, as though sensing the moment wasn’t right to stir trouble with his haughty tone.

At long last, the auctioneer motioned toward a side door, through which one guard entered. The man pushed on a large wooden cart draped with a dark velvet cloth, wheeling it into position at the center of the stage. Rusty’s mental mind raced; this had to be it. He leaned forward, straining to see through the cloth blocking the view.

"Next, we have a unique creature, captured from the depths of the dungeon…”