Not Long after the car rolled to a halt in the sprawling driveway of Camila’s grandfather’s estate, its towering gates shutting silently behind them. Jason stepped out, his calm demeanor masking the slight unease he felt in the grandeur of the surroundings. Camila, as poised as ever, walked ahead, her heels clicking against the polished stone pathway. She glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable, silently urging Jason to follow.Although Jason had been here before, he it's still new to him.Inside, the mansion was alive with quiet elegance, the faint hum of conversation drifting from one of the larger rooms. Camila’s grandfather, a commanding yet welcoming presence, stood near the entrance of the study, his hands clasped behind his back. Beside him was an older man—well-dressed, with sharp eyes that suggested intelligence and a hint of skepticism.At that moment Jason’s gaze flickered between the two men as they approached. Camila’s grandfather smiled faintly, motioning f

At that moment The auctioneer's voice rang out, smooth and persuasive, as he described the pillow. “This isn’t just any antique, ladies and gentlemen. Legend has it that this pillow, when used over a long period, can cure various health issues. It’s said to bring peace to one’s sleep and even allow you to recall your dreams in vivid detail.”Hearing what the auctioneer just said.The murmurs in the room grew louder, a mix of intrigue and skepticism rippling through the crowd. Jason leaned back in his seat, his sharp gaze fixed on the pillow. Camila glanced at him briefly but didn’t say anything as her grandfather straightened in his chair, clearly piqued by the auctioneer’s words.“Shall we start the bidding at hundred thousand?” the auctioneer called, his voice cutting through the chatter.Several paddles shot into the air, and the bidding quickly escalated. “ Hundred and Fifteen thousand… twenty thousand… twenty-five!” The numbers climbed higher, the excitement in the room palpabl

The room, which had been tense with anticipation, erupted into laughter the moment the auctioneer made his declaration. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice steady, though the mirth around him grew louder. “This ring, as legend has it, was worn by the great Matais of Aetherfield.”Hearing what he just said.The crowd’s reaction was immediate. Some scoffed openly, while others leaned into their companions, whispering and chuckling behind cupped hands. A few outright guffawed, the sound echoing through the grand hall.However the auctioneer, undeterred, continued. “It is said that this ring contained all the powers of King Matais himself. Of course,” he added, clearing his throat, “we cannot verify the authenticity of these claims. Therefore, we will start the bidding at—” He paused dramatically. “One hundred dollars.”The laughter peaked, filling the room with a cacophony of disbelief and amusement.At that moment Camila’s grandfather leaned back in his chair, his lips twitchi

However the room remained tense as the scholar, who had already captivated the audience, leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady and commanding. “Let me take you deeper into the legend of King Matais,” he began, his voice carrying a weight that drew everyone’s full attention. “It’s widely believed that King Matais burned the ring in front of his sons, declaring it destroyed so that no one would seek its power again. But anyone familiar with his legacy would know that such an act was impossible.”Again the crowd murmured in confusion, and a few leaned closer, their curiosity piqued even more. Jason’s sharp eyes never left the scholar as he spoke, noting the precision and intent behind every word.“The ring,” the scholar continued, his tone firm, “was said to be impervious to fire. King Matais himself was known to walk through flames while wearing it, emerging unscathed. So how could something so resilient to heat be reduced to ash in the hearth of a king’s chamber? The truth is, it

Hearing what Serenity grandfather just said.The room grew tense as Jason’s words settled over the crowd. “Have you ever wondered,” he said, his voice cutting through the murmurs, “what actually killed King Matais? It wasn’t old age or battle wounds. He died from internal pain—a pain caused by the very thing he swallowed to protect his kingdom.”At that moment The weight of his statement stunned everyone into more silence. Some exchanged uneasy glances, while others leaned forward in their seats, captivated by the audacity of his claim. At that moment Camila’s grandfather narrowed his eyes, clearly intrigued but still skeptical. Even the scholars, who had spent their lives dissecting the legend of King Matais, were momentarily speechless.“That’s absurd,” one voice finally broke the silence, a man seated toward the front. “How could a ring cause internal pain?”Then Jason turned his gaze to the man, his expression calm but firm. “Because the ring wasn’t just a piece of jewelry. It w