Time passed swiftly once more, and another day came and went. As the sun once again sank below the western horizon, night fell over the skies of Moncarlo. Just like always, the city didn’t quiet down with the night’s arrival—on the contrary, it came alive in a different way.
By nightfall, the bustling streets of Moncarlo remained brilliantly lit, and the Wavewhirl Theater at the city center was particularly crowded and lively.
At the edge of a broad intersection, the towering theater building loomed tall. Guards were posted on either side of its wide-open doors. Carriages stopped along the street, from which well-dressed men and women of various ethnicities descended, stepping onto lavish carpets as they chatted and laughed on their way to the theater’s entrance. At a glance, it seemed they were there for a grand play—but the posters outside the theater had nothing to do with any performance.
What was about to take place inside was not a play or a conventional event, but a grand auction. Moncarlo, originally a pirate haven, had once gathered seafaring raiders from all over the seas. They brought with them exotic treasures, exchanging and displaying their plunder to greedy merchants who had gathered to speculate. In showing off their spoils, they publicly auctioned what they had seized—using sky-high prices to flaunt their wealth and power.
Thus, Moncarlo’s auction industry was born.
Though the noisy pirates had long since vanished with the centuries, the auction trade remained. Treasure hunters from North Ufiga, notorious thieves from major cities on the mainland, corrupt officials flipping stolen relics, and shady underground societies—they all needed a channel to launder goods and transform their "labor" into real profits. These demands gave rise to various Moncarlo industries, among them the flourishing auction scene.
Today, legal and illegal, mundane and mystical, from beneath the earth and above it, treasures from across the Conquest Sea region flowed into Moncarlo—bringing with them a steady supply of goods and drawing in speculators and collectors from all nations in search of their prize.
The Wavewhirl Theater was one of the oldest auction houses in Moncarlo. Long ago, when Moncarlo was still a pirate city, the building had originally served as a venue for prostitutes and captured slave women to perform for pirates. But with few proper structures at the time, it was repurposed for auctions during off-hours. Though Moncarlo had changed drastically since then and the original theater segment had since been separated, the name “Wavewhirl Theater” stuck.
Now, the Wavewhirl Theater was about to host a new large-scale auction. Eager audiences and collectors who had prepared for days were streaming in—and none drew more attention than the newly arrived Vania, the most talked-about nun in Moncarlo.
Under the unrelenting lights, Vania walked forward with a composed smile, greeting those who approached her. As the most significant public appearance of her Moncarlo visit, this auction demanded her presence. Naturally, many with social standing had chosen this moment to show their faces in front of her and make an impression.
At last, after a slow advance, Vania entered the hall. What met her eyes was a vividly decorated grand theater, larger even than Tivian’s Soaring Theater, and built in a circular rather than fan shape. In the center was a large circular stage, surrounded by sloped seating. Rising above were tiered VIP boxes, each offering excellent visibility.
The central stage remained empty for now, while the regular seats around it were already packed. Under the guidance of a designated attendant, Vania and her entourage climbed the stairs along the theater’s edge to reach their reserved box, where they sat down comfortably. Letting out a slight breath of relief upon settling into the sofa, Vania cast a glance across the lively venue before closing her eyes and whispering mentally.
“I’m in the box now, Miss Dorothy. Are you here at the venue too?”
“My real body isn’t here yet. What you’ll find in the hall is one of my puppets. It’s in box number 23—look five boxes diagonally to your right…”
Dorothy’s voice echoed in her mind. Following her guidance, Vania opened her eyes and looked in that direction, where she saw a well-dressed, handsome young man standing at the window of a box, waving toward her from across the railing. Seeing this, Vania relaxed slightly, though her tone still carried some concern.
“Miss Dorothy… are there really three Crimsons in this venue right now? There are so many people here—if something goes wrong…”
“Don’t worry. If something’s going to go wrong, this place won’t remain so lively for long. While three Crimsons sounds scary, they’re not on the same side. As long as we handle things well, there shouldn’t be a problem. Let’s just focus on the auction for now.”
“No need to worry too much. Remember—this operation is also meant to thwart the Abyssal Church’s scheme… for the stability of the Conquest Sea.”
Dorothy’s voice reassured her. Reminding herself that she was fighting against a cult, Vania quietly settled her nerves and patiently awaited the start of the auction.
…
Meanwhile, on the other side of the venue in another box, Edward, wrapped in a loose cotton robe and gripping a cane in both hands, sat quietly on a sofa. Muscular guards surrounded him. His gaunt, aged face bore a grim expression as he stared silently at the bustling venue below, as if searching for something.
Without any public announcement, Moncarlo’s ruler had come in secret to attend the auction. Standing not far from him was Tonic, bald and robed, smiling as he waited.
“When is the moment Swordscale mentioned for the trade?”
Edward glanced at Tonic and asked with a stern tone. Tonic responded respectfully and calmly.
“Please be patient, Captain Edward. Lord Swordscale only instructed that you attend the auction. The exact timing of the exchange will take place during a particular moment of the auction. When that moment arrives, he will notify us again. As long as you fulfill your part, we will honor our promise.”
“Of course… allow me to remind you one last time, Captain Edward—do not attempt to forcibly locate Lord Swordscale. If your mystical detection is perceived by him, the entire deal is void.”
“…”
Edward said nothing in return. He simply cast a glare at Tonic, then turned his gaze back to the venue.
…
Elsewhere in the hall, inside a higher-tier box, a white man with neatly styled hair and a brown beard, dressed in a black tuxedo, stood by the railing. With a lofty gaze, he silently scanned the vast venue—his eyes fixed intently on the Moncarlo Church Delegation’s box.
As he watched, his fingers played with the serpent-wrapped ring on his hand. Behind him stood a number of silent attendants.
…
In another box a few levels lower, a pale, gaunt-faced man in a gray robe, his eyes ringed with dark circles, sat alone in his chair. His gaze occasionally drifted across the hall, and occasionally locked onto the wall clock inside the box. As he observed the time, he gently shook his head.
Judging by his expression, he was calculating—waiting for something.
“It’s not time yet…”
…
At last, with all the guests seated, the theater’s main doors were closed, and the orchestra beside the stage began to play a gentle melody. The music resonated across the spacious venue, signaling to everyone that the auction was about to begin. The previously noisy hall instantly fell into silence.
Once quiet had settled over the hall, the center stage floor slowly opened up, and a well-dressed auctioneer rose from the hidden lift platform. As he reached the surface, he spread his arms wide and loudly proclaimed.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Collectors and connoisseurs from around the world! Lovers of rare treasures! Good evening, and welcome to Moncarlo! Welcome to the Night of Curiosities!”
As his voice rang out, the audience erupted into enthusiastic applause. When the applause died down, the host continued with his opening remarks, introducing the event and setting the tone. Once the formalities were finished, he announced the official start of the auction.
“Alright! Enough talk—I’m sure you’re all eager to begin. Now presenting our very first treasure of the evening: Item Number One, the Lathia Jade-Handled Urn!”
With his words, the lift platform was activated again. A small pedestal rose from below the stage, bearing a silver urn adorned with jade inlays.
“This exquisite silver vessel once belonged to the Lathia family of Castia, who ruled the southwestern region of Castia three hundred years ago…”
The host excitedly launched into a full introduction of the first item, elaborating on its provenance, craftsmanship, artistic value, and historical importance. Once the description was finished, he announced the starting bid.
“...More details can be found in the catalogues provided to all of you, so I won’t dwell on the rest. The starting price for this treasure is 8,000 lir, with each minimum bid increment no less than 1,000 lir. Let the auction begin!”
With that announcement, the evening’s auction officially commenced. Amid a chorus of bids and raised paddles, the price of the first item climbed steadily, eventually closing at a sum of several hundred pounds—already a high price for mundane goods.
Item after item followed—second, third, and beyond. With each fall of the auctioneer’s gavel, applause rang out. Various relics and works of art were sold at steep prices to different buyers. The atmosphere reached new highs whenever a record-setting bid was made.
Finally, as time passed and the auction reached its midpoint, another item was raised onto the stage—a holy emblem necklace.
“Item No. 12: The Warmhearted Holy Mother Necklace! This piece is one of the lost treasures recovered from the many churches destroyed by cultists in Ivengard during the Muddy Stream War. It was crafted by an anonymous yet devout artisan, made from gold and ruby, and ingeniously fuses the Holy Mother emblem with a necklace design, creating a beautiful piece of religious jewelry! Perfect for devout women to wear—expressing beauty while radiating piety. With this around your neck, it’s as if you’re constantly under the Holy Mother’s protection…”
The host’s passion remained undimmed as he described the new item. Meanwhile, Vania—who had been seated in her box—stood up the very moment the necklace appeared, even before the host began speaking. She silently walked to the railing of her box, gazing longingly toward the stage, her eyes filled with desire.
“Sister Vania… are you interested in that piece?”
Noticing her reaction, Gaspard spoke up directly. Vania responded awkwardly.
“Uh… yes, that holy emblem does look quite appealing. But as a member of the Church delegation, we’re really just attending this event out of courtesy. Bidding on anything might not look so appropriate…”
Gaspard paused in thought for a moment before replying.
“If it were just any item, perhaps not. But if what the host said is true—if this necklace is a lost relic of the Radiance Church from the Buddy Stream War—then we can justifiably purchase it under the pretext of reclaiming lost holy property. Besides, didn’t Moncarlo’s ruler just make a donation to us? This would be a perfect use for it—as long as it doesn’t get too expensive.”
Hearing this, Vania smiled and nodded slightly.
“In that case… let’s see if we can win the bid.”
As bidding for Item No. 12 began, Vania joined in. Her box made only a single bid, yet all the other participants immediately backed off upon seeing her involvement. They graciously chose not to compete, giving face to the Church’s representative.
Thus, the Warmhearted Holy Mother Necklace was successfully sold to Vania’s box at the starting price of 9,000 lir.
“Congratulations! Box No. 19, Sister Vania, has successfully acquired this exquisite holy emblem artwork! That which belongs to the Lord shall return to the Lord!”
With the host’s gavel strike, thunderous applause once again echoed throughout the hall. In a VIP box above, the man wearing the serpent-ring clapped along with the crowd. His eyes remained fixed on Vania, who stood by the railing. Her immediate and eager reaction upon seeing the emblem had not escaped his notice.
“Stuck to the script, huh… Old man…”
Smiling faintly, the man murmured to himself. Then he reached inside his coat and retrieved a small, crystal-clear vial.
“Send this in. Submit it for auction through the proper channels.”
He handed the vial to a waiting servant behind him, who stepped forward respectfully to receive it.
The servant—pale-skinned, resembling a mainland noble—left the box and exited the venue, carrying the vial straight to the auction’s front desk, where he addressed the auction manager.
“Mr. Jacques, I’m Gaede, consignor of Item No. 17. I’ve finally recovered the item. Please have it added to the auction.”
Presenting the vial, the man calling himself Gaede handed it to the manager, who examined it carefully and smiled.
“Good thing it turned up. If we’d been missing a listed item from the printed catalogs, not only would we lose face, but Mr. Gaede would also have been fined. Everything’s in order now. We’ll arrange it immediately.”
He summoned two staff members and handed them the vial for staging. The staff took it and promptly departed, heading down a corridor toward the staging area beneath the theater.
But once they were away from the manager and Gaede, one of the staff smirked faintly, raising the vial to inspect it closely.
Then, he unscrewed the vial’s cap, took a glass bottle from the other staff member, and poured the colorless liquid from the crystal vial into the glass one—leaving only a trace behind.
Finally, he turned into a nearby washroom, filled the emptied vial with tap water, sealed it tightly again, and continued on his way.