Chapter 206: The Hall Opens II
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Lily stared at her, offended, then glanced at Sekhmet as if asking him to defend her. Sekhmet did not. He had learned long ago that when Elena spoke, arguing was a hobby that only led to suffering.
Elena looked at Sekhmet next. "Young master, the first guest line is already forming. The Iron House representatives are visible."
Sekhmet’s gaze sharpened. "Dickoff."
Elena nodded once. "Yes."
Lily’s expression tightened. She did not like that name. She did not like what it represented. She had grown up hearing her father speak politely of houses while privately describing them as poisonous. Iron House had always been one of the poisonous ones.
Sekhmet inhaled slowly. "Where is Mira?"
Elena gestured. "Ready. Auri is with her."
Sekhmet nodded. "Good."
Lily leaned closer again. "Your new secretary is terrifying."
Sekhmet did not deny it. "She is supposed to be."
Lily looked annoyed. "I was supposed to be your closest scary woman."
Sekhmet’s eyes flicked to her. "You still are."
Lily froze for half a second, cheeks warming. Then she narrowed her eyes and scoffed loudly as if the compliment was an insult. "Good. Keep remembering that."
Elena cleared her throat softly, reminding them the world existed beyond flirtation and pride.
"Open the hall," Sekhmet said.
Elena nodded and stepped away.
The auction hall doors opened with the Creak... sound.
The sound rolled through the building like a drumbeat. Then the first wave of guests entered.
It did not look like one wave. It looked like controlled flooding. People flowed in, wearing wealth, wearing weapons, wearing fear, wearing ambition. The hall itself was large, built in a layered structure with rows of seats descending toward the central auction platform.
Private viewing boxes lined the upper sides. There were sealed doors on both ends for security. Lamps hung high with runes embedded into the metal frames.
The floor was polished stone but etched with faint lines that looked decorative until you realized those lines were part of a containment array designed to dampen chaos energy surges.
The auction platform sat at the center like a stage for greed.
Behind it was a display wall, reinforced and guarded, meant to show items without allowing anyone to grab them. To one side was a locked gate leading to an internal holding vault. To another side was a small elevated desk where Mira would stand to host. A bell sat on the desk, chained to a brass handle.
The bell would decide when the room breathed.
Mira stepped onto her position with calm discipline.
The noise of the crowd rose.
Voices layered over each other, bargaining before the auction even began. Nobles greeted other nobles with smiles sharp enough to cut. Mercenary representatives watched everyone with the eyes of dogs waiting for meat. Beastkin buyers sniffed the air, literally, because some of them could smell chaos energy traces from items even through sealed cases.
Auri stood behind Mira, slightly to the side, watching the hall like a guard hidden in clerk clothing. She did not move, but her attention moved everywhere.
Sekhmet entered through the owner’s route and took his seat in the reserved high position. It was not a throne. It was a respectable chair on a raised platform behind a partial screen that allowed him to observe without being surrounded. It gave authority without theatricality. He sat with calm posture, hands resting lightly, eyes scanning.
Lily sat near him, close enough to speak, far enough not to look like property.
Elena remained in the back route, coordinating staff.
Bat Bat was not in the hall. Elena had insisted she remain in the house, and even Lily had agreed that Bat Bat’s presence in a crowded auction would become either chaos or comedy, and neither was safe today.
As the crowd settled, a hush moved slowly through the hall.
Not full silence.
But the kind of hush that happened when people realized someone important had arrived.
Dickoff Iron entered. He did not come with fifty men like his son.
He came with the kind of escort that did not need numbers to be threatening. Two guards moved beside him, their posture controlled, their eyes empty of warmth. Their battle aura was muted but dense, like compressed stone. Behind him walked a small group of Iron House representatives, scribes, and bidders carrying heavy pouches and contract paper.
Dickoff’s clothing was expensive in a quiet way. No bright colors. No loud jewelry. No flashing symbols. He wore the kind of coat that told you he did not need to advertise wealth because his name did it for him.
He paused near the entrance, scanned the hall once, and his eyes landed on Sekhmet’s position.
For a moment, their gazes met across the crowd.
Dickoff’s face did not change. But something behind his eyes tightened. He sat in a prime bidder seat. He did not greet anyone. He did not smile. He sat like a man waiting for a verdict.
Whispers spread immediately.
One said, "Iron House is here."
Another whisper, "Dickoff himself came."
Another guy said, "They say his son disappeared."
Someone asked, "No way. Who told you?"
His friend said, "Be quiet. Do you want to die?"
The guy answered, "I heard it from my cousin. He is my mother’s cousin’s fourth child’s long distance relative. His son in law works for the iron house. I heard it from him."
The guy who asked the question said, "What!!! That’s so confusing. Whatever... Good for you."
Sekhmet listened without changing expression.
Lily leaned slightly closer. "He looks like a corpse that learned how to wear clothing."
Sekhmet’s lips twitched faintly. "Do not say that too loudly."
Lily smirked. "Why? Will he cry?"
Sekhmet did not answer. He watched Dickoff, and he could feel the man’s anger control like a pressure. Dickoff did not scream because screaming was weakness. That made him more dangerous than Dickon had ever been.
Mira lifted her hand. The bell chain moved. It made a Ting sound. The sound cut through the hall cleanly.
Noise lowered by force of habit.
Mira’s voice carried without shouting. It had the crisp clarity of someone trained to speak over crowds.
"Honored guests of Slik City. Nobles, merchants, mercenary representatives, beastkin clans, independent collectors, and lawful observers. Welcome to the Dawn House Auction."
A subtle shift moved through the hall. Some people nodded politely. Some people smirked. Some people watched with hungry eyes.
Mira continued, her tone steady. "All items today are verified under standard Slik auction practice. Disputes must be registered through the proper channels. Violence is prohibited inside the hall. Any breach will trigger removal and investigation."
A few people laughed quietly, because everyone knew "prohibited" meant "punished," and punishment depended on who you were. Dawn house doesn’t have any power right now.