I Only Summon Villainesses - Chapter 318: The Night Auction

Chapter 318: The Night Auction

I was dumbfounded, but I stood there turning everything over in my head. This woman simply meant to say that I was in her mind. But she had also called it Spirit Illusion earlier, so she couldn’t have meant her mind in the literal sense.

I didn’t respond immediately. I stayed still, let my thoughts settle, and after I had worked through enough of it, I brought my hands to my front and smiled politely. All my earlier caution and wariness dissolved like they were never there.

That was a skill too. An underrated one.

“Forgive my intrusion, my lady. Actually, it was Colonel Atlas, you see. He went about boasting about how he had a personal relationship with you and said he was going to bring me to the Night Auction to show me.” I scoffed. “Goodness gracious, what a shameless man, really.”

She did not say anything immediately but stared at me with a blank gaze, one that made it difficult to tell what she was thinking.

“Atlas… uhh.”

I nodded sharply.

“He’s been all over my head since he discovered I was a Sovereign Summoner, they say. And you know what’s funny? He even promised me that you’d take a look at my items and approve them to be sold at the Auction tonight.”

I completed the performance with a wide grin spreading across my face, as polite as it was pretentious.

To be honest, I didn’t care whether she believed me or not. That was not the point. And I was sure she was smart enough to know the game I was playing. A woman like this, in a place like this, she had heard better lies from worse people. What mattered was that the lie gave her a door to walk through without losing face, and gave me a door to walk through without losing my life.

I also didn’t want to come directly against her. What she had called a Spirit Illusion, me entering her mind, it gave me slight chills. I could say the same thing if someone walked into the Cathedral. I could simply tell them they were right inside my own soul.

But that was impossible. Manifesting one’s soul as a physical, tangible space? Maybe if I had a Spirit that could weave illusions the story would be different, but the point was that something about this woman made me extra cautious. She was probably as strong as I was, and strong enough to at the very least bother my summons.

Then again, I could be wrong. I was nothing if not a chicken after all.

“I see… a Sovereign.” Her tone shifted, just slightly. “How come I’ve never heard about you? Only two Sovereigns exist in the world today. A third one would quake the entire world with its announcement. How come you’re unheard of? What is your name and origin?”

I sighed. “Cade Marlowe. Earth.”

She looked at me. Confusion wove across her brows.

I sighed… again.

“See, I knew you’d make that face. It’s the face anyone would make. Do you even know what Earth is?”

She smiled, smooth and unhurried, and nodded.

“I must admit, you’re a strange one. No one except the heavens understand the nature of the Sovereigns, after all, since they wield a spirit that fragments their soul.”

She smiled and bowed towards me, gracefully.

“Lord Cade Marlowe… welcome to the Auction House.”

I was dumbfounded.

’Did it all really end with me saying I was a Sovereign? Am I underestimating this whole thing?’

I was still asking myself that when the lady took a step back and the entire place moved like the world had been a painting on glass and someone had shattered the glass.

The scenery cracked apart in every direction, fragments of light scattering into darkness, and then from that darkness, new light bubbled up. Paper lanterns, drifting above a street, arched rooftops, the warm glow of fire against the underside of old tile.

The streets were crowded, throngs of people walking shoulder to shoulder beneath a sky so dark and so clear I could count the stars.

And then the pressure hit me.

It came all at once, from every direction, a weight that pressed against my chest and squeezed the air from my lungs as though the very heavens were settling onto my shoulders. My knees didn’t buckle, but they thought about it hard.

The sky wasn’t falling. That would have been simpler.

Every single person walking this street, beneath these dark skies and arched rooftops, emanated a pressure that felt like a mountain given breath. Not one mountain even so, dozens, there were hundreds.

All of them walking casually, like they were just other men, buying things, talking, existing, each one carrying enough spiritual weight to crush someone like me if they bothered to notice.

I think I froze. Maybe two seconds or three.

The lady caught my arm with both hands, leaning close. Too close.

“It can be too much to bear. The powerful here don’t have to hide. The cumulative spiritual pressure you’re feeling from everyone at once is capable of killing a C-rank Regular Summoner outright. Even an S-rank will be knocked unconscious by its weight.”

She glanced at me, something unreadable passing behind her eyes.

“It’s admirable that you’re standing, despite being here for the first time. Atlas was indeed right to bring you to me.”

I was silent, looking around the streets and the clear dark sky with its multitude of stars.

’How are we in another location? Did we teleport?’

That was most likely the answer.

She led me forward, holding my hand tightly.

I failed to notice it at first. The pressure from the people walking the street had my full attention, every instinct screaming that I was a fish swimming through a school of sharks. But now that I was looking away from the parade of furiously strong individuals who walked about like they were just running errands, I noticed something else entirely.

Her breasts were pressing against the side of my arm.

And I didn’t want to seem like a pervert saying this, but you see, I tend to have a really creative and innovative mind, and the sensation I was feeling pressed against my arm was already beginning to express some kind of equation.

The equation may even have had a thing or two to do with moving mountains.

’Cade, no. No. Think. She could be Cressida’s sister or aunt or even mother. Don’t think of her like that.’

It was not getting any better. In fact, I think I may have made it worse with that thought.