Pirates: Get the Ice Demon Slayer Magic at the beginning

When Ye Fan returned to his seat at the auction, his excitement had subsided a little, but he decided to continue watching the event and take this opportunity to broaden his horizons. As soon as he sat down, he found that the auctioneer on the stage was excitedly introducing a treasure on the table.

It was a broken sword, lying alone on the display stand, the blade was broken, only half of it was left, but although the broken sword was short, it exuded an ancient and mysterious aura. The blade was shiny black, and seemed to have traces of countless years, while the broken end was as smooth as a mirror, as if it was not broken, but was born that way. There were no inscriptions or patterns on the broken sword, and the surface looked extremely simple, but everyone present could feel that this sword was definitely not an ordinary thing.

"Everyone!" The auctioneer's voice was loud and mysterious, attracting everyone's attention. "This broken sword in front of you, our auction house has gone through many appraisals, but we still can't find out its origin, nor can we damage or change its form. Even with the strongest force, it can't be shaken in the slightest. It is obvious that this broken sword was once a magical weapon of a powerful person, but its identity is still a mystery now."

Ye Fan's eyes were attracted by the broken sword. Although it looked inconspicuous, from the ancient aura it exuded, Ye Fan faintly felt a trace of unusual power fluctuations, as if the broken sword was not really broken, but was sealed under the restraint of some power. He thought to himself that this broken sword might hide some shocking secrets.

At this time, other people in the auction house were also talking about it. Although many monks were interested in the broken sword, they were also skeptical. After all, the sword was broken and could not exert its full power. It was still difficult to decide whether it was worth spending a fortune on it.

"Although this broken sword may look insignificant, if there is a chance, it may be able to restore its former glory." The auctioneer emphasized, "Everyone, the starting price for the broken sword is 500 spirit stones!"

The starting price of five hundred spirit stones was already quite high. The people in the audience discussed it in low voices, but no one was in a hurry to bid.

Ye Fan observed quietly, and he developed a strong interest in the broken sword. For some reason, he always felt that the sword had some inexplicable attraction to him. But he also knew that it might not be appropriate to take action at this moment, after all, the value of the broken sword had not yet been fully demonstrated.

The atmosphere in the auction hall gradually became tense. Several bigwigs sitting in the front row exchanged glances with each other, as if they were considering whether to fight for the broken sword. Soon, someone broke the silence.

"Six hundred spirit stones!" A monk in luxurious robes raised his hand, his face full of determination.

"Seven hundred spirit stones!" Another person followed suit and made a bid.

The excitement in the auctioneer's eyes grew stronger and stronger, and his voice became louder and louder: "Everyone, this is an indestructible divine weapon. This is a rare opportunity!"

Ye Fan stared at the broken sword, thinking secretly in his heart, waiting for the right time. On the stage, the broken sword lay quietly, as if waiting for the arrival of a destined person.

In the VIP box on the second floor, the big guys stared at the broken sword on the stage, their expressions more solemn and thoughtful than those on the first floor. Although they seemed to be in no hurry to bid, in fact, the atmosphere in each box was no longer relaxed.

In one of the boxes, a middle-aged man in a gold-rimmed robe sat upright on a soft chair, squinting his eyes slightly, his gaze as sharp as an eagle, staring at the broken sword for a long time. Suddenly, he murmured in a low voice: "This sword... I seem to have heard this kind of aura somewhere, could it be..."

Beside him, a servant asked respectfully, "Sir, do you need to take action?"

The man waved his hand, signaling not to rush: "No, wait and see."

In the box on the other side, sat an old man with silver hair and a dignified look. He looked indifferent, but his fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, as if he was thinking about something. Suddenly, he snorted coldly and said to himself, "If this is really the relic, I'm afraid its origin is more complicated than what the auctioneer said..."

In the corner of the box, a young monk in a blue robe widened his eyes and asked in confusion, "Master, what is so special about this broken sword?"

The silver-haired old man narrowed his eyes and said slowly: "The broken sword is not an ordinary thing. It may be the remains of some ancient artifacts, or even a part of the imperial weapon... It's a pity that it has been broken into two parts. I'm afraid that its current form no longer has its full power."

The young monk was shocked when he heard this and asked immediately, "Do we want to fight for it?"

The old man pondered for a moment, his eyes sharpening: "Don't be hasty. If this sword is really related to some powerful being, fighting for it may lead to trouble. Let's make a decision after they finish fighting."

In another private room, a mysterious man in a black cloak sat quietly, his eyes glowing in the shadows. He stared at the broken sword, his mouth slightly raised, and muttered to himself: "Oh, these people only see the surface. The power hidden under the broken appearance of this sword is more terrifying than you can imagine..."

These big guys had their own calculations in mind, and they murmured to themselves, and the atmosphere became even more weird. Although they did not bid for the time being, everyone's eyes were extremely deep. Obviously, they were not uninterested in the Broken Sword, but saw some unusual clues and were waiting for an opportunity to act.

The atmosphere at the auction instantly became tense, and the price was quickly raised to five thousand spirit stones. The auctioneer stood on the stage and shouted excitedly: "Five thousand spirit stones! Is there any higher bid? This is a broken sword with an extraordinary origin. You must seize the opportunity!"

The monks on the first floor were so shocked that they could no longer participate in the bidding. They could only look up at the boxes on the second floor. The big guys on the second floor finally couldn't help but start to bid.

"Six thousand spirit stones!" The first person to bid was the silver-haired old man, and his tone was unquestionable. Although his voice was not loud, it carried an irresistible majesty.

Then, another big boss spoke coldly: "Seven thousand spirit stones." This voice came from the man in the gold-rimmed robe. He was not impatient, but his words were full of confidence. Obviously, he was also determined to win.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense, but this was just the beginning.

"Eight thousand spirit stones!" The mysterious man in the ink-black cloak spoke softly, his tone was icy cold, sliding into everyone's ears like a poisonous snake, making people shudder.

The auction hall was silent for a few seconds, and then there was a noisy discussion. The price of 8,000 spirit stones was already prohibitive for many people, but the big guys on the second floor were obviously not satisfied with this. The price was fought back and forth between them, rising layer by layer.

"Nine thousand spirit stones!" The man in the gold-edged robe made another bid, and this time his tone was noticeably colder.

"Nine thousand spirit stones? You want to break the sword with this price?" The silver-haired old man chuckled and then shouted in a deep voice: "Ten thousand spirit stones!"

At this time, the atmosphere in the venue was like a fully drawn bowstring, and everyone held their breath waiting for the next bid. However, before anyone else could make a move, the mysterious man in the ink-colored cloak slowly stood up and said in a low and sinister voice, "Twenty thousand spirit stones."

His voice was not loud, but it carried a sense of oppression that could not be ignored. The whole audience was silent, and even the auctioneer was stunned for a moment.

At this moment, a sneer came from the box. The man in the gold-edged robe no longer concealed his identity, stood up, and said calmly: "Twenty thousand spirit stones? Do you think that my Murong family is not brave enough to bid because of its reputation? The Broken Sword belongs to my Murong family. Anyone who bids again is against my Murong family!"

His voice was extremely cold and threatening, and the entire auction hall was suddenly shrouded in a chill.

However, his threats did not make the other bigwigs back off.

"The Murong family?" The silver-haired old man snorted coldly, his voice resounding throughout the venue like a bell. "Even if you are from the Murong family, don't think you can scare off my Fenglei Sect with just one sentence! Thirty thousand spirit stones!"

"Wind and Thunder Sect?" The mysterious man laughed grimly, his voice carrying a hint of contempt, "Do you think I'm afraid? Forty thousand spirit stones."

The atmosphere in the auction hall reached its peak. All the monks on the first floor held their breath, fearing that they would be involved in this power struggle. The strong men on the second floor no longer hid their identities at this moment. They revealed their names one after another and began to threaten their opponents without any scruples.

Ye Fan watched this scene silently, and was amazed in his heart. Although he was not weak in strength, he also deeply felt the competition between these big men at this moment. The strong men from various forces argued fiercely, and even fought for this broken sword. This made Ye Fan more determined. This broken sword is definitely not an ordinary thing!