The envoy remained motionless at the center of the stage as his domain gradually retracted, the overwhelming pressure lifting from the venue in a controlled and deliberate manner. The suffocating weight that had pressed down upon millions of cultivators dissipated, allowing the hall to breathe once more.

Ignis slowly rose to his feet. His entire body felt heavy, not from injury alone, but from the humiliation that burned within him. Being forced to kneel and cough blood before the entirety of the Andromeda Galaxy was a disgrace he would never forget. Rage surged through him, violent and uncontrollable at its core, yet he restrained himself. He understood, with painful clarity, that he could not challenge an existence wielding an authority so far beyond his own mid-tier divine concept. Swallowing his pride along with the bitterness in his chest, he returned to his seat in silence, wiping the blood from his mouth as he suppressed the fury boiling inside him.

On the stage, Edmund’s voice once again spread clearly across the vast venue. “3 billion UNI-Coins. Third call…”

A brief pause followed, not one of uncertainty, but one that felt ceremonial, as though marking the significance of the moment.

“Sold.”

The declaration echoed throughout the massive venue, sealing what would undoubtedly be remembered as one of the most extraordinary transactions in the history of the Andromeda Galaxy.

Without delay, Edmund continued, “Would you like to make the transaction now, senior?”

A holographic interface appeared before the envoy. Without hesitation, he extended a finger and confirmed the transfer through his UNI-OS. The transaction completed instantly, the sheer magnitude of the exchange processed as effortlessly as any ordinary purchase.

Edmund stepped forward and presented the ring with both hands, his posture carrying deep respect. “Senior, your item.”

The envoy accepted the artifact in silence. His fingers closed around the ring as he examined it briefly, his expression unreadable. Then, a thin strand of mana flowed from his hand into the artifact. The runes ignited instantly, and a golden essence surged into his body.

For the briefest instant, his pupils contracted. He felt it. The effect was genuine.

A slow smile spread across his lips, one that carried both satisfaction and a subtle sharpness beneath it, as though something deeper had caught his interest.

“Interesting…” he murmured.

His gaze lifted toward Edmund, his voice now carrying across the venue with calm authority, laced unmistakably with arrogance. “For such a refined artifact to appear in a place like this… tell me, who sold it?”

Edmund lowered his head slightly, maintaining his composure. “I apologize, senior. The seller has registered this item under a strict anonymous UNI-Contract. Their identity cannot be disclosed.”

The envoy’s eyes narrowed. “Cannot?” he repeated, his tone lowering slightly. “Or will not?”

Edmund did not move. “UNI-Auction does not distinguish between the two. The contract is absolute.”

From within the VIP suite, Adrian observed the exchange with careful attention. This moment held greater importance than the auction itself. It would determine whether the UNI-Sect truly upheld its rules, or whether even their contracts could bend under pressure.

The envoy’s fingers tightened subtly around the ring as a faint pressure began to spread from him. He did not deploy his domain, nor did he actively use authority, yet the sheer presence of his divine concept pressed upon Edmund.

Edmund’s body stiffened under that influence. Sweat beaded along his temples despite his High Rule Stage cultivation. When he attempted to speak again, his voice wavered slightly. “S–Senior… the contract… cannot… be—”

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The pressure itself was not overwhelming in strength. Edmund could handle it easily. The true burden came from something far deeper: the disparity between their origins, their sects, and the power behind them. At the end of the day, Edmund was not a true disciple of the UNI-Sect. He was merely an appointee from a subsidiary sect. And his sect, no matter how powerful within its own domain, was insignificant compared to the Major Sect standing before him.

The UNI-Enforcement guards also remained frozen at the stage’s perimeter, unwilling to intervene against someone of such obvious superiority.

For a brief moment, it seemed as though the absolute rules of UNI-Auction might bend.

Then, a new calm voice echoed across the stage. “Now, now… it seems like you are forgetting my UNI-Sect’s rules, huh?”

Every gaze in the venue snapped toward the source.

A humanoid figure appeared upon the stage without the slightest spatial fluctuation. Even Adrian, who had been observing closely, only registered the man’s presence after he had already arrived.

The man appeared middle-aged, his head bald, his golden robes flowing with a design distinct from that of the envoy. Yet what stood out most was not his appearance, but the complete absence of anything else. He exuded absolutely no aura, divine concept, or mana whatsoever. To all senses and perceptions, he appeared indistinguishable from a powerless mortal.

But the reality of his identity was immediately made clear the moment the High Rule Stage UNI-Enforcement guards, Edmund, and even the haughty Major Sect envoy instantly dropped to their knees and bowed deeply to him. This was not the formal ninety-degree bow Edmund had shown earlier, but a complete act of reverence, foreheads pressed nearly to the stage floor.

“Senior Vaelon,” the envoy spoke, his earlier arrogance completely stripped away. “I meant no disrespect to the UNI-Sect. I merely sought—”

“You sought to pressure my employee,” Vaelon interrupted, his tone remaining pleasant yet carrying an undercurrent that made the temperature drop. “You deployed your divine concept within my UNI-Auction. You attempted to extract information protected by contract.”

The envoy’s head remained lowered. “Forgive me, Senior. I was… overeager.”

“Overeager,” Vaelon repeated the word. He clasped his hands behind his back, turning to survey the venue. Millions of cultivators sat frozen, none daring to speak or move. “Tell me, what is your sect’s name?”

“Aegis Forge Sect, Senior.”

“Ah.” Vaelon nodded slowly. “Yes, I recall now. An Upper Major sect in the Virgo Galaxy. A respectable Major Sect, certainly. Your sect leader… Luminarch Theris, if memory serves?”

“Yes, Senior.”

“And does Luminarch Theris teach his disciples to violate UNI-Sect contracts?”

The envoy’s shoulders tensed. “No, Senior. He does not.”

“Then you acted alone.” Vaelon’s voice remained light, conversational. “Which means this transgression reflects poorly only upon you, not your sect. How fortunate for Luminarch Theris.”

Adrian watched the exchange with focused interest. This was not merely a reprimand. It was a calculated dissection, separating the individual from the sect, ensuring the Major Sect itself bore no blame whilst the envoy absorbed the full weight of consequences.

Vaelon stepped closer to the kneeling figure. “You purchased an artifact for three billion UNI-Coins. A fair transaction, completed according to all established protocols. Yet immediately upon receipt, you attempted to breach the seller’s anonymity. Tell me, what message does that send to every other seller who trusts UNI-Auction with their identity?”

“I…” The envoy swallowed. “I did not consider—”

“You did not consider.” Vaelon’s pleasant tone sharpened slightly. “No, you did not. You saw something that interested you, and you believed your sect’s backing granted you permission to disregard our rules.”

The silence that followed felt suffocating.

“Stand,” Vaelon commanded.

The envoy rose slowly, his earlier confidence completely absent. He kept his gaze lowered, unwilling to meet the Senior’s eyes.

Vaelon examined him for a long moment. “The artifact is yours. The transaction stands. However, you are hereby barred from participating in any UNI-Auction for the next one million years. Should you attempt to circumvent this ban through proxies or intermediaries, the restriction extends to your entire sect.”

The envoy’s face paled. One million years was a big thing even for a Peak Rule Stage being, and the threat of extending it to his sect would make him a pariah among his own people.

“Do you accept this judgment?” Vaelon asked.

“Yes, Senior.” The words came out hoarse. “I accept.”

“Good.” Vaelon gestured dismissively. “You may leave.”

The envoy bowed once more, deeper this time, then vanished in a flash of golden light, his spatial departure lacking any of the earlier grace.

Vaelon turned to Edmund, who still knelt at the stage’s edge. “Rise, Edmund. You performed admirably.”

Edmund stood, relief visible in the loosening of his shoulders. “Thank you, Elder Vaelon. I merely upheld the contracts as required.”

“Precisely as you should.” Vaelon’s gaze swept across the venue, and though his expression remained pleasant, something in his bearing made it clear his words carried absolute weight. “Let this serve as a reminder to all present. UNI-Sect’s contracts are not suggestions. They are not flexible. They are absolute. Regardless of your cultivation, your sect’s strength, or your personal power, you will respect them, or you will face consequences.”

Slowly, the millions of cultivators began to nod at Vaelon’s words.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep