Chapter 207: The Hall Opens II
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Mira lifted the bell chain again. "The auction begins now," she announced.
A staff member rolled out the first display case. It was not a legendary item. It was a warm-up.
A high-grade piece that would attract bidders without revealing the strongest cards immediately. A polished weapon with visible runes, sealed under glass, aura humming faintly. The crowd leaned forward, interest rising.
Mira described it professionally, including grade, known function, and verified origin. Buyers began bidding.
Numbers rose fast. Not insane yet. But eager numbers.
Sekhmet watched the pattern of bidding more than the item itself. He watched who tried to raise early. Who hesitated. Who waited. Who bid in pairs, suggesting they were coordinating. Who acted alone, suggesting personal wealth.
Iron House participated early, throwing stones with confidence, trying to set a tone: We control this room.
They did not win the first item.
A neutral merchant house outbid them at the last moment, and the hall murmured in surprise. Iron House rarely lost early bids unless they wanted to, which meant either they were conserving stones for something bigger, or they were being cautious for reasons the room did not yet understand.
Mira’s bell rang again. The second item rolled out.
Another strong piece, still not legendary, but impressive enough to make the crowd believe Dawn House was not bluffing. Bids rose higher. The room warmed.
Sekhmet’s gaze flicked over the crowd again.
That was when he noticed three figures seated not in the best seats, not in the worst, but in the kind of seats people chose when they wanted to watch without being watched. Their clothing was modest but too clean. Their posture was too calm. Their eyes moved too precisely, not like excited buyers, but like hunters reading a field.
Alex. Sofia. And Natasha.
Sekhmet did not know their names. But he felt something cold in his blood when he saw them. It was not fear. It was recognition without explanation.
A familiar wrongness.
Like hearing drip... drip... drip... in a room that was supposed to be dry.
He did not activate Blood Eye openly. Not now. Not in the middle of a hall full of watchers. But his attention tightened.
Lily noticed his stillness. "What."
Sekhmet’s voice remained calm. "Nothing."
Lily narrowed her eyes. "That is a lie."
Sekhmet did not deny it.
Mira’s voice continued. The second item sold.
The crowd’s excitement rose again. Iron House bid again, heavier this time, trying to make a statement. They still did not win.
A beastkin collector with a heavy pouch of stones took it, smirking openly as if stealing victory from Iron House was a sport.
Dickoff Iron’s expression did not change. But his fingers tapped his armrest once.
Sekhmet watched that tap. He filed it away.
He is counting, Sekhmet thought. He is watching what I reveal. He is waiting for the legendary wave.
Mira rang the bell again. Then she spoke the words that made the entire hall lean in.
"Now," she announced, "Dawn House will begin the legendary sequence."
A hush moved through the hall like a wave. Even people pretending not to care sat straighter. Even those who had come only for gossip sharpened their eyes.
Because legendary items were not normal goods in the lower domain. They were the difference between a merchant being rich and a merchant becoming untouchable. They were also the kind of thing that attracted the wrong attention.
Sekhmet’s posture remained calm. Inside his chest, his blood moved slightly faster.
It was not hunger. It was anticipation.
Auri, from her position behind Mira, glanced briefly toward Sekhmet. The look was subtle, but it carried meaning.
Everything was ready.
Mira signaled the staff.
The first legendary case was rolled out.
The aura from it was different. It felt sharper, cleaner, older. The runes in the hall lamps hummed faintly in response, like recognizing a higher class of object.
The crowd inhaled. Someone whispered a curse. Someone else whispered a prayer. Iron House’s bidders leaned forward together.
Dickoff Iron finally moved his gaze fully to the item.
Mira began her description.
Sekhmet listened, calm and still, while his mind measured the room and the predators hiding in it.
Because the auction had officially started. And the stage had been built. And somewhere inside the crowd, hunters had arrived who did not look like buyers.
Meanwhile, casual buyers sat straighter. Proud nobles stopped pretending to be bored. Mercenary representatives leaned forward as if smelling blood. Beastkin clan buyers narrowed their eyes, ears twitching, tails stiff. Even the city guards on duty shifted their stance subtly, because legendary items made fools brave and made brave men desperate.
Mira waited for the noise to settle into the kind of tension she could control. She had a talent for that, not magic, not charm, but timing. She let the crowd feel the weight of what was coming, then she spoke again, voice clear and unhurried.
"The first legendary item," she said, "is verified under the Dawn House seal and confirmed stable for public sale. There is no active curse. There is no binding owner mark. It is a clean acquisition."
The staff rolled open the case, and the air itself seemed to warm near it. The case was reinforced glass with rune edges. Even so, the aura leaked through like heat through thin cloth, not dangerous enough to burn, but intense enough to make buyers imagine power in their hands.
Inside lay a weapon that looked like it had been designed for war and for theatre at the same time.
Mira’s hand lifted slightly in a controlled gesture toward the case. "Legendary Grade Three. Flame-Etched Warblade."
She let the words breathe, because Legendary Grade Three was not a casual phrase in Slik City. That grade meant it would not end in a street brawl. It would end in a personal guard’s hands, or in a noble house vault, or on the battlefield of someone important enough to survive carrying it.
(Give golden tickets and power stones.)