Chapter 211: The auction IV
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A noble tried to participate, raising with polite confidence, but the moment he did, someone behind him laughed softly like he had just told a joke.
A back-row bidder raised. "One point five."
Another back-row bidder countered instantly. "Two."
A mercenary rep joined. "Two point three."
The room warmed with competitive energy. The whip was not a trophy. It was a tool. Tool bidding always became vicious because tools had immediate use. People paid for what could save their life tomorrow, not for what looked good in a portrait.
Iron House did not bid.
Dickoff sat still, expression unchanged, as if the whip bored him. That told Sekhmet something. Iron House didn’t want the room to know they had an interest in flexible weapons. Or Iron House considered this item not worth their stones. Either way, their silence allowed other buyers to become bold.
"Three million," a cloaked buyer said calmly.
Mira repeated smoothly. "Three million."
A second cloaked buyer raised. "Three point five."
The first cloaked buyer countered. "Four."
The crowd murmured. A chain whip for four million was high for Grade Two, but not crazy. Not in a room already tasting Legendary Grade Three prices.
A mercenary rep raised again. "Four point three."
A quiet female bidder in a side row raised without expression. "Four point five."
The mercenary rep hesitated. His partner tugged his sleeve and whispered something. The mercenary rep cursed quietly, then lowered his marker.
Mira’s bell rang once.
"Four point five million. Any higher bids."
The first cloaked buyer paused, then raised. "Five."
A ripple moved through the hall. Five million for the whip.
The second cloaked buyer did not counter. The quiet female bidder did not counter. The whip had found its owner.
Mira rang again.
"Sold. Five million chaos stones."
The case rolled away under escort. A few people sighed. A few people muttered about "overpaying." The man who won did not look regretful. He looked satisfied, like he had just bought a future advantage.
Sekhmet watched that satisfaction carefully. A bidder like that will come back later, he thought. People who buy weapons like this do not stop at one.
Mira did not let the room rest too long. She raised her hand toward the staff again, and the sixth case rolled out.
When the lid’s rune seal flared, the air changed slightly. Not warmer. Not colder. Sharper, like the room had been sliced.
Inside lay two daggers in matching sheaths. The blades were slender and dark, with faint runes etched near the spine. The sheaths looked ordinary at first glance, but the way the light avoided reflecting off them hinted at concealment enchantments.
Mira’s voice was steady. "Legendary Grade Three. Twin Fang Daggers."
A murmur ran through the hall, deeper than before. Assassin-grade items were always popular, because half the people in the lower domain secretly wanted to kill someone, and the other half wanted to survive being killed.
Mira continued. "Matched assassin-grade blades with silent-draw effect. The draw does not produce the standard metal sound. The blades reduce vibration output when moved, making them suitable for discreet combat and close-range elimination. No active curse. Verified stable. Highly desirable to underground circles and discreet nobles."
Someone in the crowd whispered, "That’s a noble divorce tool."
Someone else muttered, "That’s a noble promotion tool."
Laughter moved through the rows like a wave that didn’t want to be noticed by the serious buyers.
Iron House leaned forward.
Sekhmet saw it instantly.
Dickoff’s gaze sharpened by a fraction. His scribe’s hand hovered closer to the marker.
Lily whispered, "They want these."
Sekhmet replied quietly, "Of course they do."
Mira rang the bell. "Opening bid, five hundred thousand."
Bidding began like a knife fight.
"Seven hundred!"
"One million!"
"One point five!"
"Two million!"
Iron House entered immediately. "Three million."
A noble box bidder countered. "Three point five."
A back-row bidder raised. "Four."
Iron House answered without pause. "Five."
The hall tightened. The price rose too fast. People stopped pretending they were here to browse.
A beastkin clan representative raised the bid. "Five point two."
Iron House raised. "Six."
The beastkin rep hesitated, then lowered. He didn’t want a war with Iron House for a pair of daggers.
A noble box bidder raised again, stubborn. "Six point five."
Iron House answered. "Seven."
The noble box bidder’s curtain shifted. A quiet argument happened behind it. Then the marker lowered.
Mira let the silence grow thick, because silence made the last bid feel like fate.
Ding.
"Seven million chaos stones. Any higher bids."
No one moved.
"Sold. Seven million. To Iron House."
A ripple moved through the crowd. Some were annoyed. Some were impressed. Some were excited because Iron House had just burned another heavy chunk of stones.
Sekhmet remained calm. They are collecting their tools, he thought. They are not done.
Mira allowed a controlled pause again to process paperwork, then introduced a small "interesting lot" to keep lower buyers engaged. It was a decorative chaos compass that pointed toward the nearest active chaos stone cluster, useful for travel and mining. It sold quickly to a dwarf craftsman who shouted that it would help him find his wife when she hid from him. The hall laughed again. The tension loosened just enough.
Then Mira’s posture straightened again, and the next major case rolled out.
"Legendary Grade Two. Ironhide Scale Vest," she announced.
The vest was practical, dark leather reinforced with scale-like plates that shimmered faintly under the glass. It was clearly designed for mobility, not heavy tanking. The runes were placed to reinforce impact resistance without restricting movement.
Mira’s explanation was crisp. "Protective torso armor designed for mobility. Reinforced impact dampening. Suitable for scouts, guards, and combatants who value speed. No active curse. Stable."
The bidding began and climbed steadily, but Iron House stayed quiet, letting other houses fight. It sold for three point eight million to a mercenary guild who clearly planned to give it to their captain.
Then Mira introduced a small "ceremonial interest" lot, the Beastbone Ritual Staff, but she did not sell it yet. She teased it instead, placing it as an upcoming lot to keep witches and scholars alert. The staff’s presence drew quiet interest in the upper boxes, especially from robed figures who had been pretending not to care.
Sekhmet’s eyes flicked again toward the three calm watchers.
Alex, Sofia, Natasha still did not bid.
They were not here for items.
They were here for something else, and the way they watched the hall felt like they were waiting for a scent to become strong enough to follow.
Sekhmet’s blood moved slightly faster.
Not hunger.
Pressure.
He did not show it.
He kept his posture calm, hands steady, gaze neutral.
Lily noticed his stillness again and whispered, "You are thinking too hard."
Sekhmet replied softly, "I am alive. That requires thought."
Lily frowned, but she did not push. She could feel when his mood shifted into survival mode, and she had learned that pushing then only made him colder.
Mira rang the bell again.
"Next item will be presented," she announced, and the staff prepared the next legendary case.
But before the case fully rolled into position, a subtle disturbance moved through the hall.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It was the kind of disturbance that happened when a professional did something wrong.
A contract clerk at the side table frowned at a paper seal.
Then frowned deeper.
Then glanced toward Mira.
Auri’s eyes sharpened instantly. She stepped closer, still behind Mira, and listened without leaning obviously.
The clerk whispered something.
Mira’s expression did not change, but her fingers tightened very slightly on the bell chain.
Sekhmet noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
What now, he thought.
Auri moved closer to the clerk, and her voice came low, calm. "Say it clearly."
The clerk swallowed. "A seal was placed," he whispered. "A small one. On a lower lot. It isn’t ours. It isn’t Iron House. It’s... unknown."
Auri’s eyes darkened.
That meant someone had tried to slip a foreign contract mark into the auction process. Not on a legendary item, because that would be too obvious. On a smaller lot, to test whether Dawn House staff would notice.
If it worked, they could escalate later.
If it failed, they would learn Dawn House was watching closely.
Auri’s gaze flicked toward Sekhmet’s platform for a heartbeat.
Sekhmet understood without words.
He did not stand. He did not shout. He simply raised two fingers slightly, a small signal.
Auri nodded once.
She slid away from the clerk station with silent steps, cloak flowing naturally.
Mira’s voice carried calmly, covering the pause smoothly. "We will proceed after brief verification. Dawn House, thank you for your patience."
The crowd murmured. Some were irritated. Some were curious. Iron House looked amused, as if hoping this delay would become embarrassment.
Sekhmet’s face remained calm.
Inside his mind, he locked onto one truth.
Someone was testing the auction’s integrity.
And whoever was doing it was confident enough to try while Iron House sat in the room.
That meant the auction was not just about selling items now.
It was about surviving the knives hidden in the crowd.
Mira rang the bell lightly again, signaling continuation.
And the next legendary case began rolling forward as the hall settled into uneasy anticipation, not knowing that behind the calm host voice, behind the polite bidding, a second battle had already started — silent, procedural, and deadly in its consequences.