Chapter 37

I’ll translate and adapt the passage into English using first-person point of view while maintaining the essence and flow of the original text:

—

For a moment, I glanced at the intentionally unbalanced appearance of Shatten, but soon turned my attention elsewhere.

After paying the modest entry fee and standing in the queue for about ten minutes, we were finally allowed to enter.

“Welcome,” we were greeted by polite employees who adhered to the routine but maintained their courtesy as we stepped into Shatten.

Seeing Asulin confidently hand over a generous amount of imperial gold coins, the employees’ warm greetings seemed even more sincere.

From afar, Shatten appeared contradictory, but upon entering, its grand interior seemed designed to soften the initial shock caused by its exterior.

The most impressive element was a painting that immediately caught our eye.

This painting was incredibly wide, making it difficult to fully take in even from a distance. It was as if the building itself was a work of art.

Though the density of the painting seemed concentrated in the middle, the detailed depiction on such a vast canvas made it impossible to think about density once you truly looked at it.

The painting was rather simple: a crimson river with a mountain range floating above it, resembling a massive dragon’s corpse.

Behind this dragon stood a man holding a sword, gazing intently at the dragon.

Even though only his back was depicted and his facial features were not, the vivid red hair, drenched in dragon blood and concealing his natural color, spoke volumes about the intensity of the battle he had fought to bring down this dragon.

Despite the pristine condition of the sword, which showed no signs of the struggle or even blood, the vibrant energy emanating from it seemed to justify its presence.

From what I could gather just from describing this scene, the painting depicted the most glorious moment of Emperor Maximilian’s life, the one who elevated the Sylvantrium Empire to its current status.

Whether it was intentional or not, the grandeur of the painting successfully dampened the spirit of those who entered, including myself and Asulin.

To think that a masterpiece like this, housed in the most controversial Shatten of Blood Haven, would be used to instill discipline among visitors with depictions of the empire’s greatest history.

It was somewhat ironic that such an act took place in Blood Haven, far from the reach of the empire’s administration, but if it worked, then why not?

We paid the entry fee and walked in without hiding our greedy eyes. Many stopped in their tracks and gasped when they saw this painting at the entrance.

Shatten was filled with imposing figures, and this painting momentarily erased their greed, allowing them to purely admire its majesty.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. In the heart of Blood Haven, where the empire’s administration rarely reached, such a painting served its purpose perfectly.

“Every time I see it, I can’t help but notice how exaggerated it is. Even when I heard about it before, it wasn’t described as being so grand.”

Of course, there were those like Asulin, who didn’t seem overly impressed by the painting but instead scrutinized its realism.

—Oh, this is the famous painting depicting Emperor Maximilian’s prime during his reign.

—It’s truly remarkable how each swing of the sword is depicted as cleaving mountains.

—Perhaps it’s a warning, showing what could happen if someone dares to do something foolish here.

—I doubt anyone would be reckless enough to commit crimes here, considering the reach of the empire’s authority.

—That’s true.

Everyone focused solely on the grandeur of the painting.

Even if the emperor was considered a legendary hero who single-handedly defeated a dragon with a sword, the reality was much different. He fought a desperate battle against the limits of his kind to finally subdue the dragon.

This painting, focusing so intensely on the emperor’s greatness, felt somewhat off to those who knew the truth.

Still, given the rarity of people who would know these details visiting Shatten, such exaggerations might be understandable.

“It’s not uncommon for people to insist that exaggerations aren’t intentional. Compared to that, this seems relatively acceptable.”

“I agree.”

Asulin and I, who belonged to the rare group that didn’t outright reject the painting’s significance, didn’t feel uncomfortable despite the slight alterations.

The magnificent painting of the great hero’s achievement left us in awe.

On either side of the painting, expensive artworks and precious metals were displayed in transparent protective cases, intended to capture the attention of visitors. However, most people were too engrossed in the painting to pay much attention to anything else.

All that could be heard was the muffled sound of footsteps on thick carpets and the occasional gasp of awe-struck visitors.

“Most of the items here are acquired through dubious means and not through legitimate channels. Only the owner’s own creations are displayed.”

“It certainly smells fishy.”

“We need to find what we’re looking for before it gets tainted.”

“I trust my supplier. Please take care of it.”

“Ha ha, no need for that. Let’s check the catalog of items up for auction.”

—

Our conversation with Asulin revolved around discussing the background of the items displayed and finding the catalog listing the items we sought.

Entering Shatten, we found ourselves surrounded by sights that demanded our attention, almost like being in a museum of valuable artifacts and historical relics.

Though it felt odd to wander around as if we were simply visiting a late-night museum, our goal was to gather information about the items scheduled for auction, not to merely admire the exhibits.

We paused to carefully examine the catalog handed to us by the staff, which listed the items up for auction.

The thick velvet-bound catalog meticulously detailed each item, setting it apart from other catalogs with clear descriptions and images.

Since colored photographs had become commonplace before the Succession War, even black-and-white photos provided enough detail to give a sense of the items’ appearances.

The high quality of these photos made the catalog itself valuable, and I believed that in the future, the photos alone would be highly sought after.

Among the items listed in the catalog, one caught our attention.

“Ha ha, as expected, it’s listed last.”

Asulin pointed out the item I had been searching for, a sword.

Despite its elegant blade and ornate pommel, the distinctive features visible even in black-and-white photos suggested this sword was anything but ordinary.

Its unnatural brilliance and the faint chill emanating from it, captured in the photo, made it unmistakably unique.

“Paleord.”

The name of the legendary sword that had become the emblem of my family now shimmered in the black-and-white photo, momentarily blinding me.

Just moments ago, the black-and-white photos had captured every detail of the items so precisely. Yet, the photo of the item I sought, though more detailed than the others, still couldn’t quench my thirst.

If only I could see the real thing, I thought.

Even if it were a color photograph, it might provide a better indication of authenticity, but the cost of such photos was prohibitive.

Considering the economic burden, it made sense that Shatten wouldn’t risk such expenses, even as a grand marketplace in Sylvantrium.

‘That’s asking too much.’

I tried to rationalize, closing the catalog after the last page.

“Want to see the real thing?”

“…What?”

Asulin playfully suggested we see the actual Paleord, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Come with me.”

The light applause echoed through the bustling hall of Shatten, drawing the attention of both visitors and staff.

“What can I assist you with?” asked a staff member, approaching quickly.

“Asulin inquired about seeing the real Paleord before the auction.”

“Of course, we can show you the real items stored behind reinforced glass from a distance.”

Hearing this, I felt a mix of surprise and confusion.

“…”

Asulin fiddled with a peculiar brooch, catching my attention. This was no ordinary brooch; it was a VIP identifier for Shatten, used to distinguish frequent and successful bidders.

Hearing that one of the shadow market’s VIPs was the successor of the Duke’s family and my legal wife, I felt a chill.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Could it be… alcohol?”

“No!”

I had always heard that strong denial meant strong affirmation.

Realizing how the high-proof distilled spirits from the Central Continent had ended up in Asulin’s possession, I felt a growing unease.

“…Next time we come here, let’s always go together.”

My voice, tinged with a chill and stiffness, surprised even me.

“Y-Yeah.”

Asulin responded in a tone unlike her usual self, subdued by my intensity.

Shatten, oh sin’s temple. You seek to turn my wife into a demon.

If only we could reclaim Paleord…

—