Meanwhile, the hall felt frozen. Even Lilo held her breath, her gaze an arrow aimed at the stage. The calmest there was Aphelia, a willow by a still pond.

She had seemed asleep, lids lowered like dusk. The True God aura around her glowed like cold moonlight, making Lilo worry it might flare. Yet the prize on stage tugged harder than that “small” fear.

The girl auctioneer vanished. A Mageblade, soaked in flame, sliced the congealed air, like a bonfire leaping to set the stage ablaze.

It crouched like a hidden beast, jaws wet, waiting for one command to tear every guest.

Figures in ice‑blue robes stepped onto the stage, hems trailing frost. The roaring heat buckled as layered arrays bloomed like snowflakes. In a breath, they pinned the Mageblade, not a single ember leaking.

The mages stood by the blade, rooted like stakes, not moving an inch.

Guests barely breathed, lungs tight as winter glass. This was the second True God‑level shock today. Both struck like thunder. The Mageblade felt like a living True God in the room.

Aphelia stopped chasing the earlier source, surprise rippling under her calm. She opened her eyes, mind reaching toward the blade, a flame made flesh.

She found a will inside it and stilled. A True God’s intent hid in that Mageblade. A genuine True God relic.

A relic isn’t just an item stained with True God power. It’s left when a True God ascends, a tool bound to their soul like an old vow.

Such artifacts carry intent and can speak across divinity. That’s why they’re called True God relics. A Mana Crystal or an ancient greatsword needs hard years of insight. A relic can skip that path. If it recognizes you, becoming the next True God isn’t impossible.

Lilo’s first thrill cooled to regret, a chest‑tight sigh. The blade’s fire sang in tune with her, good resonance, good fate. But she was already the Valkyrie’s chosen subordinate god.

From that bursting aura, this Mageblade wasn’t an ordinary relic. Yet compared to the Valkyrie’s power, the gap was a canyon.

If Lilo dared switch inheritances now, no one else would need to act. The Valkyrie would bestow her death.

She sighed again, a wry curve at her lips. “Looks like this one isn’t meant for me, Aphelia.”

Aphelia smiled, voice light as wind through reeds. “The Mageblade’s origin is uncommon. But it’s only a True God relic. If you want a true artifact, it falls short.”

She had tasted the Valkyrie’s Spear herself. She knew. A living True God and one already in the Godrealm are split by a gulf no bridge can span.

A living True God resists the world’s rejection every breath, keeps climbing in realm, keeps a blade’s edge, dares to strike. To date, Aphelia had met only the Valkyrie and Merlin.

Freya had hidden in a carved pocket of space, not comparable to the other two.

Lilo nodded, agreement steady as a drum. She understood. She had met so many powers lately she felt numb at times. But she was the earliest and strongest Demigod of the young generation. Otherwise Senro wouldn’t have let her travel the Hydra Plains.

“Right, Aphelia. Since we’re here, we should taste this wine.”

In the clear glass, the wine had lost its deep red and somber glow. It had turned clear as spring water, even the faint perfume gone. Aphelia thought the best moment had slipped past.

Lilo only smiled. She snapped her fingers. An ember blossomed at her fingertip and fell, a firefly sinking into the clear liquid.

In a blink, phantom flames swept the room, heat like summer noon. Even Aphelia, bearing True God force, murmured in awe. The vision flashed and died, leaving her startled.

In the cup, the drink burned orange‑red, a flame in glass, pulsing like a heart.

She tried to catch the scene, but it fled, giving no chance to linger. The near‑far tease left her stunned, then smiling wryly.

Lilo liked that reaction. She lifted the glass to Aphelia’s lips. Before Aphelia could react, the firelike liquor flowed down, tracing her red lips.

Satisfied, Lilo nodded. Then a family prompt tugged at her. She smiled apologetically to Aphelia and turned back to bid.

Aphelia sat with mixed feelings. The drink slid down her throat like a brand, then vanished, leaving only a faint scorch to prove it existed.

And it wasn’t done. Just when she thought it was over, heat threaded through her body. Her brain hummed like a struck bell. Strength across her frame stirred, every string vibrating. Even her spirit edged toward a fevered pitch.

She reined it in, breath long like the tide receding. “Whew… not simple. What is this? It can’t be just wine, right?”

She pressed the restless surge down. She watched Lilo hurl bids like sparks. She looked at the trace in the cup and asked without thinking.

“Ah… that. Strictly speaking, it’s not really wine…”

Lilo kept her eyes on the Mageblade’s climbing price, answering without looking back.

Not wine? Then what?

Realizing she’d said too much, Lilo hesitated, then dove back into bidding. A beat later, she added, half‑sheepish. “Saying it’s not wine isn’t right either. It’s just not human wine. It’s a specialty of our captain’s people. Technically it has no alcohol. But for other races, it hits like a banned spirit.”

Curiosity kindled, Aphelia lifted the glass with the last thin film of liquid. She channeled a thread of power into it.

A will rebounded, clean and firm, and her force slipped. The glass powdered with a soft chime.

At the crisp sound, Lilo glanced over, a fox’s smile playing, like a plan paying off.

“It even hides a latent will. Lilo… that’s quite something. Your captain, what is…?”

Aphelia looked at the powdered glass without anger. She felt a touch of helplessness and a thin streak of excitement.

She wasn’t a full True God yet. But for it to hide from her eyes—without triggering, she’d have missed the will in the drink. Lilo had probably planned this mischief, pouring her that special cup.

“Ah… about that, the captain told me not to say. Besides, the fact you’re the Valkyrie’s disciple has already been carried to the demon high council by Lord Senro.”

Lilo sounded apologetic. Seeing her look, Aphelia let the matter go with a quiet sigh. The drink was destroyed anyway, the cup dust on her palm. She wouldn’t chase a dead ember. She turned her gaze back to the auction floor.

As the price climbed, bidders thinned like reeds in frost. A few tried to hold on and wilted under the weight of coin. In moments, only three remained, Lilo among them.

The other two were No. 45 and No. 40. Like rivals trading glares, they raised by millions without blinking. The Mageblade had started at tens of millions. It now edged toward a billion gold. Even Lilo bit down hard.

“Lilo, No. 40… looks off.”

Aphelia hadn’t watched every lot. But No. 40 had abandoned the second item earlier without fuss. Now he threw all in with reckless grace.

“Yeah. The auction house hasn’t stopped them. I think I know who they are…”

Worry shaded Lilo’s face like a passing cloud. If those two were who she guessed, she might need to withdraw.

An auction isn’t stupid. It evaluates guests. If someone bids maliciously, pushing far beyond their means, it cuts them off fast. But…

No. 40 and No. 45 kept bidding, no hint of retreat.