Chapter 194: Midnight Theft II
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The praise hit Reyan exactly the way it was meant to. His shoulders eased. His chest straightened slightly. Betrayers always wanted payment. But before payment, they wanted validation.
Dickon gave it to him like poison wrapped in silk.
"When this is done," Dickon continued, "you will be rewarded."
Reyan’s eyes flickered with greed. "I serve where value exists, young master."
Dickon almost rolled his eyes.
No. You serve where the money drips. But he did not say it.
Instead he nodded once.
"Then take us to the vault."
Reyan turned immediately.
"This way."
They moved.
The rear corridor opened into the lower administrative route leading toward the auction sub-levels. Their boots echoed softly on stone. Men spread themselves with professional instinct — front, center, rear, each cluster keeping line of sight without bunching too tightly.
They were not merely thieves.
They were a strike group.
Dickon enjoyed that thought.
A strike group in his shadow. Dawn House brought low not by a glorious duel or a public challenge, but by something simpler, dirtier, and far more effective.
If the ten legendary items vanished tonight, then tomorrow Dawn House would panic.
By auction day, the room would learn the truth.
No displays.
No goods.
No final stage piece.
At best, the auction would collapse into humiliation.
At worst, Sekhmet would try to bluff and be exposed in front of the entire city.
Either way, the result was beautiful.
Dawn House’s reputation would shatter.
The whisper campaign would become fact.
The city would laugh.
His father would see the path open wider.
Dickon’s smile sharpened.
He wanted to see Sekhmet’s face when it happened.
He wanted that almost more than the damage itself.
Ahead of him, Reyan led them down a narrow stone stair.
The air grew cooler.
The walls grew thicker.
The lower treasury level had been built for storage and defense both, but Reyan knew the route, and that made all the difference. Locks were only meaningful when the hand holding the key still understood loyalty.
Or should have.
They turned once.
Then again.
At the base of the second stair, Reyan raised one lamp from a wall niche and lit it with trembling fingers.
The flame bloomed low and gold.
For a moment, the stone walls looked wet.
That was when something else moved in the dark.
Not in front of them.
Above them.
Silent.
A shadow detached itself from the beam crossing the ceiling and slipped down a side gap between support stones.
One of Sekhmet’s bats.
He had assigned several of his summon bats to Auri earlier and ordered her to remain hidden inside the Dawn auction house through the night. She had obeyed without question. The bats were spread through the building like silent eyes, clinging to rafters, ledges, vents, and beams where no ordinary guard would think to look.
One of those eyes had now seen enough.
The bat vanished into a narrow service vent and flew low through darkness, beating silent wings through spaces no armored man could follow.
Below, the intruders moved on, unaware.
Not far above them, in the upper dark of the building itself, Auri stood hidden near a high service arch, almost invisible in the shadows. She had been watching the lower hall and treasury routes from the moment Sekhmet ordered her to guard the place. The bat landed lightly on her forearm, tiny chest moving fast.
Auri did not need words.
She understood the urgency from the bat’s agitation, its scent, and the pattern of its return. Her eyes sharpened immediately.
"Good," she murmured softly.
She did not move from her hidden position. She could not risk revealing herself yet.
Instead, she gave the messenger bat a single command. "Inform the master."
The bat launched at once, streaking upward through the hidden upper passages of the building, then slipped through the familiar route back toward Dawn House. It was fast, silent, and loyal to Sekhmet above all others.
In Dawn House, the messenger reached Sekhmet first because his blood-linked summons always prioritized their master.
The moment it landed on his bedpost, Sekhmet’s eyes snapped open.
He was awake before the first full heartbeat finished.
His body moved on instinct — not bloodlust instinct, not panic, but the cold practiced instinct of a man who survived purgatory by treating sudden wakefulness as a possible death sentence.
The bat fluttered once, agitated.
Sekhmet’s gaze narrowed.
Then the bond carried the message.
Voices. Numbers. Movement. Reyan. Dickon. Treasury route.
His face changed instantly.
No surprise.
Only calculation.
"Of course," he murmured.
He rose from the bed in one smooth motion, already pulling on his outer layer.
Then the communicating stone on his desk vibrated.
Buzz.
Auri’s contact line.
Sekhmet grabbed it.
"Speak."
Auri’s voice came low and precise.
"Master. Dickon Iron is inside the Dawn auction house with more than fifty men. Manager Reyan is guiding them personally. They are moving to the treasury now."
Sekhmet’s expression turned hard enough to cut.
"How many strong?"
"Two Chaos Rank Three. Seven Chaos Rank Two. The rest are Rank One and below."
That made him go still for a fraction of a second.
Heavy team.
Not impossible.
But heavy team.
This was not a simple theft crew.
This was a public humiliation team disguised as a raid.
Sekhmet spoke immediately.
"Stay unseen. Do not strike first. Keep watching."
"Yes, master."
The stone dimmed.
Sekhmet turned and crossed the room. He opened his door and moved into the hall.
No shout.
No alarm.
This was not the time to wake the whole house in panic.
First: his useful pieces.
He reached the twins’ door and knocked once, hard enough to wake, soft enough not to send servants stumbling out of rooms.
The door opened almost instantly.
Vera stood there first, already alert, hair loose, eyes sharp with the speed of a true vampire waking into purpose.
Vela appeared at her shoulder a heartbeat later.
"Master," Vera said.
"We have intruders," Sekhmet said. "Dress up for fighting and come with me. Quietly."