It is extremely expensive to support a knight.
The largest portion of that cost naturally comes from the baptism fee, as well as the knight’s plate armor and manor!
These three items are placed on equal footing because they nearly share the same value.
A complete set of knight’s armor is often a treasured family heirloom passed down through generations—even dozens of generations—in some minor noble families.
The craftsmanship of the Highland artisans is renowned far and wide. The armor displayed on the podium gleamed with a crystalline brilliance under the lights, its smooth lines and precisely interlocking components clearly indicating its status as a high-quality item!
Naturally, its price was driven up accordingly, and finally, a figure clad in a black robe purchased it for 3,200 golden ducats.
“The next auction item…” announced the auctioneer, pulling off the red cloth covering the second treasure, “is ‘Primordial Blue Blood,’ ‘Conqueror,’ and the sword once wielded by Talor I, the ruler of the Windfly Plains—Dragonheart!”
The auctioneer revealed a blue greatsword beneath the cloth. Under the lights, it shimmered with a faint glow. The ancient design of the blade, its sharp edge, and the dark red blood grooves continuously exuded an aura of ferocity.
“Starting price—2,500 golden ducats!”
As the auctioneer’s voice rang out, a chorus of competing bids erupted.
Wu Ming noticed that when the blue greatsword was revealed, Beatrice, the girl nestled in his arms, visibly trembled.
“If it were truly just a weapon, even with historical value, this would be excessive…”
His eyes flickered with thought. “Could it be… a supernatural weapon!?”
With this thought, Wu Ming immediately narrowed his eyes slightly.
Although the powers granted by his True Spirit had long since dissipated, they had left him with heightened perception.
Now fully focused, he immediately sensed a deep and unfathomable force lingering around the Dragonheart greatsword.
“Especially…” he mused, “could there be some kind of resonance with Beatrice? A bloodline-bound weapon? One that can only be used by descendants?”
He pondered uncertainly, watching as the Dragonheart greatsword was eventually purchased by a mysterious figure for the high price of 5,000 golden ducats.
“If it were truly just an antique, this transaction would be a huge loss… So… a Blue Blood noble, then?”
Wu Ming stared at the mysterious figure’s retreating back, his gaze dark and intense.
Since that person had appeared here, what kind of hostility would he, as the buyer of a Blue Blood female slave, face?
Perhaps it would still be safe in the black market, but once outside, things might become unpredictable.
“The final auction item!”
On the stage, the auctioneer smiled. “I believe many of you have already guessed it… a vial of Holy Oil! The quantity is a full two pints, certainly enough for a knight’s baptism… and as an extra piece of information, I’ll let you all in on a secret—the prize for the champion of this spring’s tournament will no longer be golden ducats, as it was in the past, but rather the title of ‘Sir’ from Count Blue Mountain!”
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd.
Although everyone had already suspected that this year’s tournament would be extraordinary, hearing the confirmation of a knighthood as the prize caused the atmosphere in the black market to heat up instantly.
“Therefore, next year’s tournament will surely attract many free knights and landless knights… This vial of Holy Oil may be the key to opening your path to knighthood, the key to the gates of glory!”
The auctioneer declared in a persuasive tone: “A vial of Holy Oil, starting price—5,000 golden ducats!”
A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Clearly, this price was already significantly inflated—several times higher than usual.
And this was merely the starting price!
It was easy to imagine that, fueled by the news of the tournament, the final transaction price would be astronomical.
“Wait a moment!”
Just as the room fell silent, a voice suddenly rang out.
“Does this guest have any questions?”
The auctioneer smiled politely at the peculiar-looking customer below, who was holding a little girl, demonstrating remarkable composure.
“Can you guarantee the authenticity of this Holy Oil? That it is exactly the same as that of the Church and one of the two great noble houses? That it can truly make someone a knight!”
Under the gaze of the crowd, and even sensing the approach of several dangerous presences, Wu Ming remained undaunted as he loudly voiced his concerns.
“Is this guest a first-time attendee?”
The auctioneer remained courteous: “The Holy Oil sold at our auction house is guaranteed to be identical in every way to the original… We have never received a single complaint regarding quality. Besides… a knight’s baptism always carries a certain risk of failure. Even the gods cannot guarantee success!”
Wu Ming naturally understood this point, so he took a deep breath and asked the most crucial question: “May I inspect it myself?”
“Aha! This fellow must be an alchemist!”
Before the auctioneer could respond, the crowd below looked at Wu Ming with knowing eyes, as if they had already figured everything out: “Another fool trying to crack the secret formula!”
Clearly, such incidents had occurred countless times before.
“No problem!”
The auctioneer, clearly experienced, replied: “According to the rules, during every Holy Oil auction, we provide three samples, each about one-tenth of an ounce, for buyers to inspect!”
He winked, looking rather mischievous: “Of course… to obtain a sample, the guest must first pay a fee of fifty golden ducats!”
A typical knight’s baptism requires a standard portion of Holy Oil equal to two pints, which, according to the world’s measurement system, equals forty ounces. The auction price for such a portion had previously ranged between 5,000 and 6,000 golden ducats.
In other words, Wu Ming would have to spend fifty golden ducats to purchase a sample worth only fifteen golden ducats. Clearly, this was a losing proposition.
“Fine!”
Wu Ming immediately and readily took out the golden ducats, purchasing one-tenth of an ounce of Holy Oil without hesitation, completely ignoring the surrounding glances that seemed to regard him as a fool, naturally reinforcing the belief that he was indeed an alchemist.
“I have no further questions!”
Having obtained what he wanted, Wu Ming was delighted and no longer paid attention to the rest of the auction after this minor incident. Slowly, he made his way back to the entrance.
He chose to leave, after all, he only had a few golden ducats left on him.
Boom!
Approaching the massive stone door, he knocked. With a thunderous rumble, the stone wall opened, revealing the smiling face of the attendant from earlier: “Is the guest leaving?”
…
“I can only accompany you this far. Good luck to you, sir!”
The same black carriage awaited, and the attendant bowed and departed, saying one final sentence before the carriage slowly began to move.
The sound of the wheels rolling echoed.
Wu Ming carefully stored the Holy Oil and turned his gaze to the girl curled up beside him: “Can you speak?”
“…”
He waited for a while, but received only silence in response.
“Alright then! Let me warn you, something unpleasant might happen soon. If you’re really scared, feel free to close your eyes…”
“Of course, given your experiences, you might not care much. In that case, just make sure to protect yourself!”
Wu Ming silently closed his eyes to rest, his right hand already gripping the steel longsword at his waist.
“Sir, we’ve arrived…”
After a while, the carriage still came to a stop in a remote corner of the southern district.
“Thank you!”
Wu Ming dismissed the carriage driver, observing the surroundings: a garbage dump, with a stream of foul water flowing nearby. Even the poor residents passing by would hurry away.
“A fine graveyard indeed, suitable for burying you all!”
Smiling, Wu Ming gently set Beatrice aside and looked at the six or seven figures emerging from the shadows around him.
“It’s unlikely to be the black market auction house—they probably wouldn’t risk interfering with their own auction plans… So, are you greedy bandits eyeing my wealth? Or perhaps a certain Blue Blood noble who holds a grudge against me? Or maybe some other mysterious faction?”
He drew his sword: “But… does it really matter?”
Whoosh!
Even as he spoke, he had already rushed forward like a gust of wind.
Bang!
The clash of metal rang out. One of the black-cloaked men attempted to parry but had his weapon easily knocked aside by the immense force, blood spilling from his chest.
“A knight!”
The speed and strength immediately startled the other assailants, some of whom reached behind their backs to draw shortbows.
“Kill him!”
Wu Ming moved like the wind. In the moment of hesitation from his enemies, his steel longsword came alive, as if possessing a will of its own. In a flash, it struck twice, claiming the lives of two more attackers.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
As he finished off the last of the frontal attackers, his ears twitched. He immediately tilted his head, dodging two cunningly aimed arrows as if he had foreseen their approach.
“Damn it!”
The two archers immediately turned to flee, as if they had encountered a monster.
They had no choice but to run! They had faced knights before, even those who had undergone baptism with Holy Oil. However, such knights usually only excelled in one particular aspect—perhaps immense strength, hardened skin, incredible speed, or rapid recovery.
But this man seemed to be comprehensively enhanced in every way, with no weaknesses at all.
The combat power he displayed was terrifying, even surpassing that of an average knight!
“Wanna run?”
Wu Ming laughed loudly, quickly catching up to one of the fleeing figures in just a few steps. He grabbed the attacker’s wrist as he turned to stab with a dagger, then drove the blade into his heart.
Then, he looked at the last escaping figure, took a deep breath, and hurled his steel longsword.
Whoosh!
A streak of light flashed. The fleeing man cried out in pain as the silver gleam pierced through his chest, pinning him to the ground.
“Cleaned out—no trace of any identification on them!”
Wu Ming approached the body, carefully searched through it, then shook his head, pulling his sword free and returning it to its sheath.
“Are you alright?”
He looked at Beatrice again.
The little girl had clearly posed no threat, and Wu Ming had acted too quickly for her to even be scratched.
Of course, witnessing Wu Ming’s brutal and efficient killing spree, the girl could no longer maintain her indifferent expression. A flicker of emotion finally appeared in her eyes.
“Let’s go!”
Wu Ming bent down to pick her up and quickly left the crime scene.
It wouldn’t be long before the rats in the sewers arrived to strip the corpses of every usable item. He had no need to worry about them anymore.
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