Amon, The Legendary Overlord

The night of the auction day was immersed in a sublime silence, punctuated only by the soft glow of the moonlight, creating an atmosphere of extraordinary peace.

A beautiful woman, with long black hair like the starry night, wore a long red dress as vibrant as a cut ruby. Her face, a work of art, had the perfection of rose petals, as stunning as a fresh spring dawn. The cold indifference she displayed towards everything and everyone contrasted with the delicate elegance of her features, making her shine even brighter. This contrast revealed an incomparable glamour and beauty as if she were a magnificent emerald amongst common stones.

"Flavia, please wait! I'm being sincere... I love you..."

The man's words echoed in the air, trying to reach Flavia, Ariel's aunt, who received them with an impatient and contemptuous look as she glanced at the man.

The man who interrupted her path was not just any individual. He stood out for his nearly mythical stature. Of high height, almost reaching two meters, he displayed a skin so intensely pale it seemed never to have been touched by the sun, which acquired a supernatural glow under the soft moonlight. His dark, dense, and mysterious eyes resembled deep wells, filled with unfathomable enigmas.

However, it was not just his physical appearance that captured his attention. His personality stood out as strongly as his physique. The man, Felipe, was extremely despicable, flaunting a narcissism that flirted with pathology. His arrogance and self-confidence were so intense that the space around him seemed to mold him. He behaved as if he were a sovereign monarch, an unquestionable king whose decrees should not be contested. In his world, everything he said was the undeniable truth, and all who disagreed were mistaken.

"Felipe, if you want to avoid seeing an idiot every day, I suggest you break your mirror!" Flavia replied before resuming her walk toward the auction house.

Felipe Hiponeto, who had never experienced such contempt, felt anger grow in his stomach. If Flavia were not the woman he so desired to conquer, he would have slapped her on the spot. It was only thanks to a superhuman effort, taking deep breaths several times to control his explosive temperament, that he managed to restrain such an impulse.

'You'll see... One day you'll be mine, and you'll find yourself kneeling at my feet, begging for mercy...' This was the vow that Felipe Hiponeto silently uttered, a promise made only to himself.

"What are you looking at?" Felipe spat, contempt coloring his words as he noticed the looks converging in his direction. He took out his frustration on the ground and, ignoring those he considered insignificant, advanced towards the auction house.

In his mind, a whirlwind of thoughts assaulted him. He felt humiliated, not so much by Flavia's disdain, but by the public gaze that had witnessed the contempt with which he was treated. For someone like Felipe, accustomed to being the center of attention and arousing admiration, this public rejection was a severe blow to his pride.

Disdainfully, he labeled the onlookers as insignificant plebeians, people who had no right to witness his humiliation. In his world, they were nothing more than ants at his feet. Still, he couldn't avoid him. His wounded ego clamored for reparation. Flavia's rejection was not an end, but a stimulus. A challenge to conquer her and the feeling of discomfort that the memory of those stares caused him. His wounded ego clamored for reparation. Flavia's rejection was not an end, but a stimulus. A challenge to conquer her and show everyone that he was the only one worthy of her.

Certainly, what drove Felipe was the pleasure of conquest. He did not truly love Flavia. What he coveted in her was her excellence, a trophy that would attest to his own worth. If it weren't for this, he would have already used his strength and imposed his will on her. However, he recognized, albeit begrudgingly, that he was a bit less powerful than her - just a bit. Even so, he considered himself cunning and strategic, avoiding getting involved in conflicts without being absolutely certain of victory.

However, it's evident that such reasoning was merely an excuse to protect his already fragile ego. Felipe was naturally cowardly. He despised the weak, but was also careful enough to avoid direct confrontation with the strong, keeping his contempt for when he felt secure enough to overcome them. He considered himself an unparalleled genius, a self-assessment that was not completely unfounded, since his talent was indisputable, even if it did not reach the point of unique genius.

For Felipe, the conquest of Flavia was a matter of power and reputation. Something coveted by many, but he believed only he was deserving of. With his distorted worldview and unbalanced thoughts, he did not hesitate to despise anyone who opposed him. When he couldn't win or was in a hurry, he manipulated public opinion, orchestrating situations so that people's hostility would turn against his opponents. In this aspect, he was an expert, having employed this tactic countless times. And strangely enough, there were thousands of people who blindly followed him, believing in everything he said.

In an almost caricature-like resemblance to a religious cult, Felipe's followers idolized him without question. They despised those he scorned and, even when he contradicted his own standards, all he had to do was present any excuse for his followers to accept, even in the face of irrefutable evidence of his hypocrisy.

Not far from there, Amon, Bianca, and the girls were also approaching the auction house. They had witnessed the scene from afar, arriving at the location exactly when Flavia launched her sharp barb: "If you want to avoid seeing an idiot every day, I suggest you break your mirror!" Ariel, thrilled with her aunt's sharp comment, mentally noted the phrase to use when she had a chance.

"Let's go in too," Bianca led them. She held the coveted VIP card, which allowed her to bring up to seven companions.

Upon arriving at the entrance, they were greeted by an elegantly dressed attendant. "Good evening, dear guests," he greeted with a polished smile. Bianca, in turn, waved back with a gentle smile and presented the VIP card.

"Ah, I see we have the presence of one of our most esteemed guests," said the attendant, carefully taking the card and signaling to a colleague. "Please, follow me to the VIP room," he invited, beginning to lead the group down a luxuriously decorated corridor.

As they walked, Bianca chatted amiably with the attendant, her gracious manners and captivating smile making a perfect counterpoint to the elegance of the auction house. They were taken to a VIP room, an exclusive and exquisite space, specially prepared to accommodate high-level guests like Bianca.

"Please, make yourselves at home," said the attendant, stepping away with a respectful bow after leaving them in the room. Bianca thanked him with a smile, while the others looked around, impressed with the extravagance of the environment.

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