If you were to present the Soulbound Relic alone, its value would far surpass that of a Soulbound Fragment. After all, a Soulbound Relic is equivalent to the combat strength of an Archmage, while a Soulbound Fragment, without being attached to any relic, is almost entirely useless.
But once a powerful relic is bound to a Soulbound Fragment, the outcome is immediately overturned—especially after the Soulbound Fragment has fully matured. At that point, the two can’t even be compared.
This means that a Soulbound Fragment with no combat ability is, in fact, worth far more than a Soulbound Relic with the power of an Archmage.
The moment Leon realized the item before him was actually a Soulbound Fragment, his gaze turned fervent.
“Farrow.” After a brief moment of thought, Leon called Farrow over.
At this point, Farrow had already finished calculating the formula for the Abyssal Potion. The result could only be described as ‘madness’—the effectiveness had increased severalfold. What he’d concocted could no longer be called an Abyssal Potion, could it?
Faced with this insane result, Farrow was utterly stunned. He sprawled over the desk, staring at the draft paper covered in formulas, checking and rechecking it over and over. Once—no mistakes. Twice—no mistakes. Three times... nine, ten times, still no mistakes. In other words, the result he calculated was absolutely correct. In that instant, as he set down the draft, Farrow felt as if a grand door had opened before him, revealing a whole new world.
Such immense happiness can only be understood by a true alchemist. Day after day of research, year after year of experiments—all for the sake of advancing his craft just one step further. And now, that step had been taken with such ease. This sudden, overwhelming joy even made Farrow wonder if he was still dreaming.
“Farrow?” Leon called out twice, but received no response. Impatient, he raised his voice.
“Y-yes, Master Merlin, what do you need?” Startled by Leon’s sudden loud voice, Farrow finally looked up, his gaze now filled not only with reverence but also a newfound awe—an admiration for knowledge, for wisdom.
"Go to the Sage's Spire's private box and tell Archmage Salomon: I can bear half the cost for the Oblivion Hell Spell. After the auction, the scroll can be kept at Sage's Spire for three months. During that time, they may copy and study it as they wish, as long as no damage is done. Afterward, I will retain permanent ownership of the scroll."
"Yes, I'll handle it right away." In the past, Farrow might have questioned whether Archmage Salomon would accept such an unfair deal, but after successfully calculating the Abyssal Potion formula, he would never make that mistake again. Are you kidding? You want to doubt a future master? You must be crazy...
After Farrow left the box, Leon didn't sit down again. His eyes were fixed on the scroll on stage, but his thoughts had already drifted to the Bone Plane...
The Death Tome in Bain's hands was almost certainly from the Bone Plane. Only that death-shrouded wasteland could give birth to such a legendary relic. If everything went smoothly, once he secured the Nether Iron Vein, he could begin expanding deeper into the Bone Plane. By then, the Goldspark Trading Company should have recovered some strength, and he could start building a force capable of waging war across planes...
With the means to survive in the Bone Plane, he could search for the legendary shortcut and claim the Death Tome that once belonged to Bain.
With the Death Tome and a Soulbound Fragment, not just Archmages—even Titled Archmages would have to tread carefully around him...
Just as Leon was lost in thoughts of the future, the box door opened again. This time, Farrow returned with Solon. Seeing Leon was the box’s owner, Solon was visibly surprised, but soon broke into a warm smile. "I never expected it would be you, Mage Merlin. Professor Salomon invites you to join him—do you have a moment?"
"Of course, it would be my honor." The moment Solon entered, Leon was already smiling—he knew there was an eighty percent chance the Soulbound Fragment would end up in his hands.
When the three of them entered the Sage's Spire's box, Leon realized that only Salomon of the Triumvirate was present. The thin old man sat curled in the corner, his skeletal frame wracked by violent coughs. No matter how you looked at him, he seemed a relic of the dying age. Who would guess this was the legendary figure who’d stood atop Seaview City for over twenty years, his name alone enough to keep countless factions at bay?
"Greetings, Archmage Salomon." Leon greeted politely, though he couldn’t help but furrow his brow—the archmage’s health was clearly not as robust as Sage's Spire claimed...
That violent coughing just now was clearly a sign of Mana Collapse—otherwise, every cough wouldn’t have triggered such unstable magical ripples.
In this era, Mana Collapse is almost unsolvable. For any mage, once mana collapses, a lifetime of effort is wasted. For Salomon to retain the power of an Archmage after suffering Mana Collapse is nothing short of a miracle.
But this miracle probably ends here...
Leon would bet his life that this archmage, who dominated Seaview City for twenty years, had at most five good years left. You could hear it in the coughs—the rampant mana was already destroying his organs. Maybe three years, maybe five, but either way, this powerful archmage was running out of time.
In fact, his recent urgency to promote Solon is another sign...
"Mage Merlin’s insight is even sharper than I imagined." Salomon remained seated in the corner, which was normal for his age—there were few in Seaview City older than him. Yet when he saw Leon furrow his brow, the old man smiled.
Because the old man knew this young mage had already seen through it...
"You flatter me." Leon replied modestly, then, at Solon's invitation, took a seat. Without further small talk, he got straight to the point: "About my earlier proposal—has Archmage Salomon considered it?"
"Two questions." Salomon raised two thin fingers, his face wearing a faint smile as he looked at Leon. "First, hundreds of thousands of gold coins is no small sum. Given the Goldspark Trading Company's current state, you don’t seem to have the means. Second, if we’re splitting the price, why shouldn’t Sage's Spire get the scroll?"
"Before I answer your first question, allow me to introduce Alchemist Farrow." Leon called Farrow over, gesturing as he spoke to Salomon. "Alchemist Farrow is from the Blackhorn Auction House. For your first question, I think he can give you a satisfactory answer."
"Yes, Archmage Salomon, I can assure you that Mage Merlin will have the full support of the Blackhorn Auction House at this auction. He can acquire any item he desires."
"Kadgar does have a good eye..." Salomon listened, smiled, and shook his head, but asked no further questions.
"As for your second question..." Leon glanced outside the box. "I suppose it's because you dislike the Ashen Tower even more than I do."
"Heh..." Salomon stared at Leon for a long time after this evasive answer, until Leon started to feel uneasy. Then the old man stood, extending a thin, right hand. "Then, Mage Merlin, let’s hope for a pleasant partnership."
"To a pleasant partnership."
After Leon reached an agreement with Sage's Spire, the competition for the Oblivion Hell Spell reached a fever pitch.
Sage's Spire and Ashen Tower drove the price of the Oblivion Hell scroll up to 1.3 million gold coins. The crowd wondered if the two factions had lost their minds—this was the highest price in auction history. Was it really worth paying so much for a broken spell?
"1.4 million gold coins."
When Salomon called out this price, the entire hall fell silent. In the Ashen Tower's box, there was only a cold snort—no further bids. After Kadgar counted three times, he announced that the new owner of the broken spell was Archmage Salomon of Sage's Spire.
That meant Leon would have to pay 700,000 gold coins for the scroll.
The scroll was quickly delivered to Salomon's box. Leon glanced at it before handing it over; the broken spell meant nothing to him. What truly mattered was the scroll itself. In any case, in a month, it would be his. Whether he looked at it now or not hardly mattered.
After acquiring the Oblivion Hell Spell, Leon rose to take his leave, only to be surprised when the usually solitary archmage insisted he stay. Salomon’s words were unusually firm, and Leon felt too awkward to insist on leaving.
In the end, Leon had no choice but to stay.