Night did not quiet Avalon so much as change the kind of noise it made. The bright calls of merchants faded from the main avenues, children were dragged away from fountains by parents who had already told them twice, and the loudest arguments around the auction district moved from public counters to private dining rooms, guest estates, rented pavilions, and guarded balconies where nobles could pretend their greed had manners. Holy lamps burned along the canals with steady pale-gold light, reflecting off the water in long trembling lines, while patrols crossed bridges at regular intervals and clerks carried sealed tubes from office to office with the exhausted urgency of people trying to finish one more task before another superior invented five more.
From the warded window of the Church-controlled residence, Noctis watched the district settle into its evening rhythm. The room behind him had already been placed under restricted privacy by Cardinal Aurevan's order, and the servants had learned quickly not to enter unless summoned. A tray of food had been left in the outer receiving room, untouched except for the wine Noctis had poured more out of habit than thirst, and the inner chamber remained clean, warm, and irritatingly serene. White stone walls caught the soft glow of scripture lines beneath the floor, the prayer alcove smelled faintly of incense, and the golden lance rested near the writing desk where it could be seen by anyone who entered but reached by him before anyone else took half a step.
He still wore Ren Arclight's face. The pale silver-white hair, the hooded shroud, the white-and-gold armor, the cross pendant, the subdued golden aura folded behind his shoulders, and the high-templar token beneath his vest all remained in place because Avalon was a city that remembered entrances, exits, servants, schedules, and small changes in routine. Removing the disguise would not have exposed him magically, but it was sloppy in a way he disliked. People did not have to see through a mask to become dangerous; they only had to notice that the mask disappeared at the wrong time.
Below, the Grand Radiant Auction district kept moving. Guarded carts rolled toward sealed storage halls, their wheels muffled by enchanted bands wrapped around the rims. Noble carriages stopped before guest estates where attendants unfolded steps, bowed too deeply, and pretended not to listen to arguments inside the cabins. Priests in pale robes crossed bridges in pairs while pages ran ahead with documents, and appraisers moved between offices with the slow confidence of old professionals who knew that everyone wanted their approval and no one enjoyed paying for it. Servants carried gossip from one residence to another under the excuse of carrying wine, linen, letters, or dinner trays.
Noctis had expected the auction to be useful. Holy relics, spellbooks, formation cores, support scriptures, clerical combat techniques, weapon records, relic forging notes, and aerial battle tools were all valuable, especially when he had Nocthyrael, Adrian, fallen angels, and fallen clergy to equip. The legal access Aurevan had secured would let him inspect, buy, or copy some of what he needed without turning the auction into a public mess. That had been the clean plan.
The clean plan was still useful.
It was also too small.
He watched a noble carriage roll past with four guards wearing polished armor that had probably seen more dining halls than battlefields. Behind it came another, this one with a family crest worked into the door in gold and crimson, followed by two temple wagons and a merchant escort arguing quietly about whose documents allowed them through the side lane. Every one of those people had come to Avalon with money, authority, family vaults, private collections, inherited bloodlines, sealed manuals, household relics, old favors, and the kind of arrogance that made them believe a public auction existed for them personally. Noctis did not need to chase every treasure in the hall if he could put his hands around the people who were already reaching for them.
Aurevan stood near the writing desk, waiting without making himself look like he was waiting. In public, he was still the cardinal who had escorted High Templar Ren Arclight into Avalon under sealed authority. In private, after the seal had closed and the servants had been pushed back into carefully managed ignorance, the obedience beneath Binding Stare rested quietly behind his eyes. He was useful because he could still think like himself. He knew which offices to pressure, which clerks to leave alone, which nobles were dangerous, and which priests would answer a question simply because the person asking wore a cardinal's mantle.
Noctis turned from the window. "Buying a few things is fine, but the buyers are more useful than the auction."
Aurevan's gaze lifted. "You want the people behind the bids."
"Yeah. If I buy everything myself, people notice. If they buy it, nobody cares. Then they hand it over later."
"That will require careful handling," Aurevan said. "Some of them are surrounded by guards, relatives, attendants, and faction watchers."
"No doubt. That is why I need the names first."
Aurevan moved closer to the desk. "Participants, lodging, guards, faction ties, and what they intend to buy?"
"All of that." Noctis rested one hand on the back of the chair, his tone easy enough that the words did not sound like a proclamation. "Also who has family vault access, who collects bloodline relics, and who would agree to a private meeting because they think it makes them look important."
"That will describe a number of nobles."
Noctis nodded once. "Alright. With nobles like that, this should be easier."
Aurevan accepted the order with a slight incline of his head. "I can use the auction security office, the sealed authority desk, lodging records, and the Church liaison hall. No one will question why I want the information. A cardinal escorting a high templar on a Three-Star Fortress recovery matter has reason to know who is bringing relics into the district."
"Good. Keep it normal. I do not want people thinking I am building a list."
"You are building a list."
"Exactly why I do not want them thinking that."
Aurevan's expression stayed composed, though something almost amused crossed his eyes before it vanished. "Understood."
Noctis walked to the desk and tapped the blank parchment the residence steward had left for official requests. "Forget the item lists for now. I want people. Names, factions, where they are sleeping, what they brought, who they brought, what they want, and who has something worth taking after they go home."
"There are temple delegations as well," Aurevan said. "Some of them will have archives rather than family vaults."
"Archives work. Vaults work. Private collections work. If they have relics, bloodlines, skills, manuals, or people who know where those things are, I want to know."
"I'll return after evening prayer. The district is easier to read at night. People attend dinners, accept invitations, drink too much, and let attendants carry messages they should have sealed better."
Noctis gave him a small approving look. "See, that is useful. Go do that."
Aurevan bowed with restraint, deep enough for the private room but not so deep that the habit would bleed too strongly into public behavior. Noctis noticed and did not correct him. The cardinal crossed to the outer door, restored the room's normal visitor appearance, and stepped into the hall with the calm face of a senior Church official heading out to review auction security before a major event. By the time the door closed behind him, he was Cardinal Aurevan again, and anyone watching would have seen nothing but a busy man handling the sort of business that busy men were expected to handle.
Noctis remained alone by the desk for several minutes after Aurevan left. He did not need the catalogues yet. The items would come later, and the auction would happily tell him what it believed each treasure was worth. What mattered now was who had come to take those treasures home. A relic bought by a noble family became part of that family's storage, and a noble family under Binding Stare became a door into everything behind the purchased item.
He thought about the difference between taking an object and taking the route the object used. If he stole a treasure from Avalon's storage, the auction would scream, guards would move, wards would tighten, and every participant would start protecting their own holdings. If Lady Somebody bought a relic and later decided to "donate" it through a discreet sealed channel, the paperwork would show prestige, piety, political strategy, or private generosity. If a lord returned home and quietly prepared copies of family manuals for a high templar he suddenly trusted, the movement would look like internal business until it was too late to matter.
Binding Stare did not need spectacle to work. He did not need people kneeling in hallways, muttering his name, or changing so sharply that servants whispered before sunrise. The best control would sit inside their existing desires. Greedy people would still be greedy, only their greed would include serving his interests. Ambitious people would still be ambitious, only helping him would feel like the smart path upward. Proud young knights would still want recognition, and if Ren Arclight became the person whose approval they craved, they would hand him their secrets while thinking they had earned his attention.
He smiled faintly at the thought and poured the rest of the wine into the cup, though he did not drink immediately. Aurevan himself remained only partially handled for now. Noctis had taken enough earlier to use Blood Memory for the token, the cover, and the procedural knowledge he needed, but not enough to fully pull the man apart for skills, bloodline depth, or complete conversion. That was deliberate. A cardinal changing too much inside Avalon would create noise in exactly the wrong place. Once the mission was complete and the city no longer needed to believe Aurevan was fully himself, Noctis could drain him properly, convert him, and fold him into the fortress like the others.
For now, Aurevan had to stay clean.
Useful. Normal. Boring.
Noctis leaned back against the edge of the desk and looked toward the window again. Avalon's night deepened, and the city's lamps brightened in response. The golden glow along the canals made the streets look almost peaceful from above, but Omni Eyes traced patrol paths, ward lines, servant corridors, and messenger routes behind the beauty. The capital was not asleep. It was simply doing its more private work.
Aurevan moved through that private work like he belonged to it.
The cardinal's first stop was the Church liaison hall attached to the auction authority offices, a white-pillared building where senior clergy, temple delegates, and military observers could request official information without standing in line beside merchants and nobles. He entered through the side arch reserved for high clergy, acknowledged two bishops with a brief nod, and allowed the guards to open the inner door for him without asking why he had come. Inside, clerks worked beneath suspended lamps, sorting attendance records, lodging declarations, escort manifests, viewing appointments, and sealed notices from temple houses that wanted their business known only to the people already paid to keep secrets.
He did not demand everything at once. He asked first about security concerns tied to the Three-Star Fortress recovery matter. That opened the military side of the records. Then he asked which major buyers had requested access to combat relics, bloodline-compatible treasures, battlefield manuals, holy suppression tools, and restricted technique viewings. That opened the auction side. By the time an older clerk hesitated, Aurevan had already given him three good reasons to stop hesitating, none of them suspicious because all of them sat inside the authority he had brought through the gate.
The clerks answered. Some answered because he was a cardinal. Some answered because the Three-Star Fortress had frightened enough people that any recovery effort sounded important. Some answered because they were tired and wanted him to leave before he asked something harder. Aurevan collected names, lodging sites, faction ties, private appointments, known bidding interests, and security notes while appearing to review risk categories rather than map targets for a vampire wearing a high templar's face.
The auction district supplied more than records. Servants whispered while waiting in corridors, and they were worse at silence than their employers believed. One pair discussed which noble house had arrived with too many chests for a simple purchase. A page complained that House Caelbrin's attendants tipped poorly but expected everyone to rush when they snapped their fingers. An old appraiser grumbled to another that the Solmara Reliquary House had brought private lots it had not registered fully, which meant either confidence or fraud, and he hated both. Two guards near a side door compared which visiting parties would start trouble if wine was served too generously after the first preview.
Aurevan listened without seeming to listen.
From the liaison hall, he moved to the noble reception offices, where seating arrangements, private dinner invitations, and guest estate assignments were treated with an intensity normally reserved for military campaigns. There he learned which noble families had requested proximity to which buyers, which old rivalries had been separated by entire courtyards, and which young heirs had tried to force meetings with famous knights or rare relic sellers. A stiff-backed clerk explained that House Valcyr had taken rooms at Sunspire Noble House near the western auction pavilion, while House Caelbrin had chosen the Moon-Gold Residence by the canal mansions, because apparently the view mattered when one intended to overpay for dead saints' trinkets.
Aurevan did not react to the clerk's opinion. He simply let the man keep talking.
The knight order registration rooms gave him different information. Military people complained more directly and hid less behind perfume. The Order of the Dawn Spear had rented a martial compound near the training district and posted disciplined guards at all four entry points. Their representative, Captain Alaric Vaust, had requested viewings for spear relics, cavalry formations, battlefield blessing scripts, and old command manuals. A younger noble knight named Sir Rowan Veyr had arrived separately with a small but polished household escort, asked too many questions about high-templar combat records, and already annoyed two officials by implying that his family's Church ties should move him ahead of older orders.
The temple lounges were slower and softer, but no less useful. High Priestess Celiane Morth of the Temple of Saint Ilyra had taken residence at the Ilyran Pilgrim House beside the southern healing district, bringing healer-knights, senior attendants, and three locked scripture cases that were not registered for sale. She sought support scriptures, healing relics, purification field records, and hymn fragments related to angelic restoration. She was elderly, powerful, politically protected, and surrounded by people trained to notice discomfort. Aurevan marked her as valuable but difficult.
The merchant side gave him Master Pellan Orthis. The Argent Ledger Consortium had a counting house inside the merchant quarter and seemed less interested in famous relics than in miscategorized lots, damaged items, and objects that could be resold after repair. Pellan Orthis had spies among staff, or enough paid friends that the difference did not matter. He had already requested several private pricing reports and quietly asked which noble consignments were desperate to sell before public bidding embarrassed them. Aurevan made careful note of that, because someone who knew what was undervalued might already be reaching toward the same items Noctis would want.
Last came the seller-side pavilions. The Solmara Reliquary House occupied private rooms attached to its own pavilion, guarded not loudly but thoroughly. Matron Ysabel Solmara was old, elegant, and respected enough that even people who disliked her did not call her careless. She bought and sold relics, controlled several private lots not available to ordinary buyers, and had enough family appraisal knowledge to make her dangerous if she noticed Ren Arclight taking interest in the wrong thing. Aurevan gathered what he could and did not press farther. Some doors were better opened after one understood the hinges.
By the time evening prayer gave way to deeper night, Aurevan had enough.
He returned through streets lit by holy lamps and watched the auction district change again. Children were being called indoors from balconies and courtyards, though some leaned through railings to watch noble guests arriving for late dinners. Old pilgrims left shrines in slow groups, guided by younger relatives or temple attendants, while wealthy buyers entered private halls where servants carried wine, fruit, roasted meats, and the kind of conversation that would become rumor by morning. Covered relic carts moved under guard toward sealed storage, and clerks locked office doors with sighs that sounded almost prayerful.
Noctis was still by the window when Aurevan entered the residence chamber. The seal closed behind the cardinal, the record script marked the visit as restricted, and the outer hall returned to silence. Aurevan waited until the privacy field settled before lowering his head.
"Master."
Noctis turned from the window. "Tell me who matters."
Aurevan placed several folded sheets on the desk. "There are many participants, but seven stand out for your purposes."
"Start with the easiest."
"Lord Edric Caelbrin," Aurevan said. "House Caelbrin is known for collecting rare bloodline relics, saint-blood containers, inheritance tools, and relic cores tied to noble lineages. Edric is staying at the Moon-Gold Residence near the canal mansions. His security is respectable but not disciplined. He trusts his name, his money, and the fact that most people want something from him."
Noctis pulled out the chair and sat, gesturing for Aurevan to continue. "That sounds like a man who makes bad private decisions."
"He does. He has already arranged two private dinners and one closed meeting with a minor seller who claims to have a sealed blood vessel from an old battlefield saint. He is charming in public, greedy in private, and careless when he thinks the room belongs to him."
"Bloodline relics?"
"Yes. He is here for anything tied to blood inheritance, saint remains, relic cores, and old family tools. His family collection is rumored to contain sealed bloodline samples from holy-war remnants. I cannot confirm the full inventory from auction records, but the rumor appears strong."
Noctis tapped one finger against the desk. "Good first target."
Aurevan nodded. "The second is Sir Rowan Veyr of House Veyr. Young noble knight, proud, insecure, eager to prove he belongs in circles older than he is. He is staying at the Veyr townhouse near the eastern knight quarter and has been drinking tonight with two young knights from allied families. He wants high-templar combat manuals, dueling relics, holy armor, and anything that makes him look like he is being taken seriously."
Noctis let out a quiet breath through his nose. "So he wants someone important to tell him he matters."
"That would be accurate."
"Easy meeting, then. Ren Arclight gives him five minutes, and he thinks he won a prize."
"Likely."
"Who else?"
"Lady Mirelle Valcyr of House Valcyr," Aurevan said. "Young, polished, ambitious, and more controlled than Veyr. She is staying at Sunspire Noble House near the western pavilion. She brought two family relic guards and several attendants. House Valcyr has old holy-war prestige and maintains a private vault of battlefield relics, saint reliquaries, and bloodline-compatible defensive treasures. Their inherited Radiant Thornline is not confirmed in public records, but enough references appear in marriage contracts and military blessing registries that it is likely real."
Noctis's eyes narrowed slightly beneath the hood. "Radiant Thornline."
"A defensive holy bloodline, if the records are accurate. Barrier, thorn-light, and retaliatory protection techniques."
"That could be useful."
"Yes. She is not as easy as Caelbrin or Veyr. She is ambitious, but she thinks before moving."
"That just means we do not treat her like an idiot."
Aurevan inclined his head. "Agreed."
Noctis leaned back. "Give me the harder ones."
"Captain Alaric Vaust of the Order of the Dawn Spear. Veteran knight captain. He is staying at the Dawn Spear martial compound near the training district. Disciplined security, strong internal command, and fewer private weaknesses visible so far. He wants spear relics, cavalry formation manuals, holy battlefield scripts, and command records. He also carries a personal spear technique manual not listed in auction records."
Noctis gave that a small look. "Personal manual?"
"Mentioned by one knight after too much wine. The order does not advertise it."
"Noted. Hard to isolate?"
"Harder. His men respect him, and he behaves like someone used to battlefield caution."
"Then not first."
Aurevan moved to the next sheet. "Master Pellan Orthis of the Argent Ledger Consortium. Older merchant, cautious, extremely informed. He is staying at the Argent Ledger counting house in the merchant quarter. He wants damaged relics, miscategorized lots, forging notes, and anything that can be repaired or resold to nobles. He has informants among auction staff."
Noctis's expression became more interested. "That one might know what the auction missed."
"Very likely."
"Also more careful than a noble who thinks money is armor."
"Yes."
"Later, then. Useful, but I do not want to start with the man who notices patterns for a living."
Aurevan continued. "High Priestess Celiane Morth of the Temple of Saint Ilyra. Elderly, politically protected, and surrounded by healer-knights. She is staying at the Ilyran Pilgrim House near the southern healing district. She wants healing relics, support scriptures, purification field records, and angelic hymn fragments. Her temple likely holds valuable archives on battlefield recovery and cleansing formations."
Noctis looked toward the window for a moment. "Risky."
"Very. Not because she is physically dangerous compared to you, but because her attendants are trained to monitor spiritual and emotional changes. If she behaves differently, they may notice."
"Then she waits."
"The last is Matron Ysabel Solmara of the Solmara Reliquary House," Aurevan said. "She controls private seller rooms attached to the Solmara pavilion. She buys and sells relics, has old family appraisal techniques, and likely brought private lots not shown to ordinary buyers. She is respected, disliked, and difficult to fool. Her people are quiet."
Noctis gave a dry little smile. "That usually means competent."
"Yes."
"Definitely not first."
Aurevan placed the final sheet beside the others. "There are smaller participants as well: minor noble buyers, temple assistants with limited authority, merchant agents, knight order envoys, and private collectors. They may be useful once the major routes are established."
Noctis studied the names without needing to read them slowly. Omni Eyes took in the handwriting, the spacing, the implied hierarchy of Aurevan's notes, and the small marks the cardinal had placed beside lodging names and security summaries. The list confirmed what Noctis had already suspected while watching the district from above. The auction was not the vault. The buyers were moving vault doors with legs, habits, pride, family names, and blind spots.
"I was thinking too small," he said.
Aurevan waited.
"If I buy everything myself, it turns into a show. People watch what I bid on, they guess what I want, prices jump, and some bored noble decides to compete just to feel relevant." Noctis tapped the name Edric Caelbrin. "But if he buys bloodline relics, that is normal. If Valcyr buys prestige relics, normal. If Veyr buys combat manuals and armor, normal. Then later, they hand it over."
"And their family holdings?" Aurevan asked.
"Same idea. They go home, open doors, and send me what is useful. Manuals, vault inventories, bloodline samples, relic fragments, anything worth moving."
Aurevan's eyes lowered slightly in thought. "That would extend your reach beyond Avalon."
"Exactly. Everyone came here carrying keys. The auction just put them in the same city."
The room stayed quiet for a few breaths, filled only by the low hum of the privacy ward and the distant bells marking another hour. Noctis could feel the scale of the plan widening, but it did not need grand language. It was simple in the way most good theft was simple once the correct door had been found. Use the auction openly, control the buyers privately, and let their own systems move the treasures for him.
Aurevan folded his hands inside his sleeves. "You intend to use Binding Stare on all major participants?"
"Not all tonight. That is how idiots get caught."
"Then you will start with the easiest and most useful."
"Yeah. The greedy one, the insecure one, and the ambitious one."
"Caelbrin, Veyr, and Valcyr."
"Caelbrin first. Bloodline relics matter, and his security sounds worse than his ego."
"His current location is the Moon-Gold Residence," Aurevan said. "He attended a private dinner earlier. The latest report places him in his canal-facing suite with two personal guards outside the main door, one attendant inside the outer room, and a private clerk reviewing tomorrow's lot interests. He has a balcony overlooking the inner canal."
Noctis looked toward the window, already tracing routes through the city. "Balcony line?"
"Visible from the south service roof if one has the height."
"I do."
Aurevan did not ask how. He had seen enough to know that Ren Arclight's movement was not limited by ordinary architecture. "The residence has holy privacy wards, but not military-grade intrusion defenses. Nobles prefer comfort until they are afraid."
"Convenient."
"His guards may notice if he dismisses everyone too abruptly."
"Then he does not dismiss everyone abruptly. He stays himself. That is the point."
Aurevan nodded. "Quiet obedience."
"No. Normal obedience." Noctis glanced back at him. "Quiet looks suspicious if the person is usually loud."
The correction landed. "Normal obedience."
"I do not need anyone drooling in hallways. I need them buying what I tell them to buy, keeping their mouths shut, and thinking it was their own smart decision. Caelbrin stays greedy. Veyr stays desperate to look impressive. Valcyr stays ambitious. I just become part of the reason they act on it."
"That will be more stable."
"Exactly."
Noctis stood and moved to the desk where the golden lance rested. He considered whether to bring it, then left it where it was. A high templar walking through the streets at night with a glowing lance drew one kind of attention; a high templar supposedly resting under a cardinal's protection drew none. If he needed a weapon, Nocturne and Ruin were already with him, and his blood could become anything else faster than most people could pray for help.
Aurevan watched him prepare. "Should I accompany you?"
"No. You stay visible."
"If someone asks for High Templar Arclight?"
"Make them wait."
Aurevan's expression remained calm. "I can do that."
"I know. You are very good at making people wait politely."
The cardinal lowered his head. "If a request comes from someone too important to delay?"
"Then I am in prayer, recovery, sealed consultation, or whatever sounds boring enough that they regret asking."
"I will choose carefully."
"Good."
Noctis adjusted the hooded shroud and let the holy aura behind him dim further until it looked like a faint residual glow instead of unfolded wings. The disguise remained intact, but he did not need to announce himself to the whole district while crossing rooftops. He moved to the window and studied the outside path: courtyard wall, service roof, canal bridge, lantern tower, noble guesthouse balcony, then a line of sight across dark water toward the Moon-Gold Residence. Genesis Step required visible anchors, and Avalon, for all its walls and wards, had built itself out of excellent sightlines.
Aurevan stepped closer but kept a respectful distance. "Lord Caelbrin may be easier to approach through invitation tomorrow. There is less risk."
"There is also more audience."
"That is true."
"I want him handled before he sleeps. Tomorrow he wakes up thinking the best idea he ever had is to buy me bloodline relics with his own money."
"And after the auction?"
"He hands them over privately. Then he goes home and starts looking through his family collection for anything that might make Ren Arclight interested in him again."
Aurevan absorbed that with a faint, thoughtful nod. "His vanity can carry much of the command."
"Exactly. Work with the problem, not against it."
Outside, Avalon's rooftops glowed under holy lamps, and the canals reflected strips of gold between dark building faces. The streets below were not empty, but they had changed. Families had retreated indoors, older residents lingered near shrines, servants moved faster with covered trays, and guards paid more attention to drunk nobles than to quiet rooflines. Auction banners shifted in the night wind, and far across the district, the Moon-Gold Residence shone with warm light along its balconies and canal windows.
Noctis placed one hand on the window frame. The ward read him as the registered guest inside the chamber, accepted the restricted privacy setting, and did not object when Aurevan's authority quietly softened the exit record into a private movement under sealed status. It was a small manipulation, exactly the kind Avalon's own officials used every day for senior guests who did not want their every step placed in a servant's mouth by morning.
Aurevan bowed his head. "Yes, Master."
Noctis paused and looked back at him.
The cardinal corrected himself immediately. "Yes, High Templar Arclight."
Noctis gave him a dry look. "Good enough."
Then he stepped through the open window and vanished.
Genesis Step carried him first to the courtyard wall, then to the service roof beyond it, each movement clean and brief, leaving no flare for anyone below to follow. The night air brushed against the hooded shroud as he crossed above a narrow street where two servants argued over whether a noble dinner guest had insulted the host or simply been too drunk to know where he was. Another step took him to the shadow beside a lantern tower, where he waited long enough for a patrol to pass under the bridge before crossing the canal line. Avalon's holy lamps reflected in the water below, bright enough to make the city seem awake even where the streets had gone quiet.
The Moon-Gold Residence waited ahead with its warm windows, polished balconies, private guards, and comfortable arrogance. Somewhere inside, Lord Edric Caelbrin was counting tomorrow's opportunities and assuming the auction existed for people like him. Noctis watched the canal-facing suite for several breaths, reading guard patterns, servant movement, ward strength, balcony access, and the thin line of privacy formation wrapped around the noble's rooms. Then his crimson eyes narrowed beneath the hood, calm and practical, as Binding Stare stirred behind them.
Tonight, he was not going after the auction's treasures.
He was going after the people who could buy them.