Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Lancet stared at Spectra, his mind spinning the words she had just said over and over. He looked back at the glass cylinder. ”Are you sure?”

Spectra’s face had gone completely, terrifyingly still. Her sunglasses were off, so her intense crimson eyes were wide and locked on the necklace.

”Yes, I am,” she said with painful conviction. ”I would know Sacramenta anywhere.” Her hand rose unconsciously toward her chest, her fingers pressing lightly against the exact place where the heavy necklace had once rested.

”I told you I can feel it when it is close by. I can sense and recognize its aura.” Her jaw tightened in suppressed rage. ”That thing there is merely gold, steel, and a common crystal shaped to roughly resemble my pendant. It is not Sacramenta.”

Lancet looked toward the stage again, his mind struggling to catch up with the revelation. If anyone asked him, the necklace looked just right.

The intricate design, the tiny carved markings, even the aging effect that is to be expected from something that had been for so long. Someone went through great lengths to fake the necklace.

If the prestigious Grand Auction was casually willing to sell something like that as an authentic historical artifact, what else inside this opulent building was completely fake?

How many of the ancient relics people had just spent fortunes on were actually elaborate copies dressed up in convincing, fabricated history?

He stopped himself there. That was not the problem he should be worried about. The immediate problem was that Spectra’s catalyst was not here.

Lancet leaned forward slightly, half-listening as the more biddings came. Mid-bid, the man had dropped some more enticing information about the necklace, causing higher bids to follow.

Lancet wondered if the real Sacramenta was somewhere else in the market. Maybe they were selling the clever copy and keeping the original for themselves. Maybe somebody had stolen and secretly replaced it before tonight’s event.

Either way, there had to be a trail.

Spectra’s eyes had moved to the charismatic auctioneer. ”I am going to speak with that man.”

Lancet caught her wrist firmly before she could stand up. ”No.”

Her deadly gaze snapped toward him.

Lancet gave her a ’calm down’ look. ”You have to be cool-headed, Spectra. We can not afford to make a scene here.”

Spectra looked around the crowd and sighed softly, though her eyes moved to the necklace again.

”Besides,” Lancet continued, keeping his voice down. ”That’s not the man we should confront. He’s just announcing items. He probably only knows whatever flowery description they hand him and absolutely nothing more.”

Spectra’s eyes narrowed. ”Then who?”

Lancet looked farther back, into the shadows behind the stage. A single man had sat there throughout the entire auction, rarely speaking and never once addressing the excited crowd.

He was noticeably older, wearing a high grade, dark formal coat with a heavy gold chain running from one pocket. So far, every single attendant had respectfully checked with him before any item was brought forward to the floor.

He had been watching the incoming bids like a hawk, and had personally signed the sale confirmations, occasionally leaning toward a worker to give quiet, direct instructions.

”That one,” Lancet nodded. ”He’s the bidding master.” Spectra followed his gaze, locking onto the target.

Lancet went on. ”He’s the one actually overseeing exactly what enters and leaves this place. If anybody here knows where your real catalyst is, it’s him.”

Spectra settled back into her plush seat, though the simmering anger did not leave her beautiful face.

Someone declared, ”1 Million Notes!” The crowd gasped at that.

The speaker grinned. ”One million Notes for the Sacramenta. Going... going...”

Lancet dutifully raised his bidding tablet again. ”Two million Notes.”

A louder gasp echoed through the hall. Everyone turned to see who had just made that unbelievable bid. As they glanced at Lancet, most of them thought he was the son of a wealthy noble house, others thought he was speaking on behalf of the dazzling woman beside him.

He was far too young to spend such an amount.

In the end, no one was willing to counter his bid so the speaker announced the Sacramenta was sold to Lancet Leogardt for a sum of Two million Notes!

An attendant approached their row and informed Lancet that his purchased items could be securely collected from the private distribution area after the auction officially concluded.

Lancet thanked her politely and let her leave before leaning toward Spectra. ”Good.”

Spectra frowned at him. ”You just spent almost all your money on a fake.”

”I’m not going to actually give it to them,” he said. ”It’s just an excuse to get a conversation with our dear bidding master.”

That made her pause. ”I’m starting to rub off on you, dear Master.”

The lavish auction continued for nearly another hour, but Lancet barely paid attention to the remaining sales.

Spectra watched even less. She sat perfectly still with one leg crossed over the other and her dark sunglasses firmly back on, outwardly calm while one finger tapped slowly against the armrest.

Every single time the bidding master moved behind the stage, her head smoothly followed him. She hadn’t looked away from him for that entire hour.

The final item was eventually sold and the auction came to its end. The wealthy guests began leaving the main chamber in loud groups, while others moved purposefully toward the collection corridors to claim whatever treasures they had purchased.

Lancet and Spectra smoothly joined them, flawlessly maintaining the same appearance they had entered with. He kept one hand resting lightly at the small of her back as they walked, and Spectra leaned comfortably against him with convincing ease, smiling radiantly whenever anyone happened to look their way.

They entered the private collection area which had filled quickly with excited buyers. Heavy cases changed hands, receipts were rigorously checked, and security screens carefully verified the wealthy buyers before the expensive relics were finally released.

Lancet deliberately took his time. He and Spectra waited patiently while the dense crowd thinned, then remained lingering near the polished counter even after most of the major buyers had finally left.

Eventually, an attendant brought out the fake Sacramenta in a heavily sealed case and handed it to Lancet after rigorously checking his identification.

After painfully making the payment, he accepted the relic with a nod. Spectra did not even look at the box.

Once the last two straggling buyers disappeared down the long corridor, Lancet casually tucked the case beneath one arm and glanced pointedly toward the private, unmarked door directly behind the collection desk.

Spectra nodded at him and they quickly made their way to the door, walking straight through.

A startled clerk looked up from behind the counter. ”Excuse me, sir, that area is restricted—”

Lancet ignored him and kept walking, and Spectra followed silently beside him. The clerk called again, much louder this time, but they had already reached the inner office. Lancet firmly pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside.

The bidding master sat behind a wide, chaotic desk covered in glowing transaction crystals and stacked financial documents. He looked up sharply, scowling when both of them entered his sanctuary without an attendant. ”What are you doing here?”

Lancet calmly closed the door behind them, ensuring it latched.

The older man stood up, puffing out his chest. ”This area is highly restricted. Get out immediately.”

Spectra slowly removed her dark sunglasses. The bidding master froze for half a second, captivated by her striking crimson eyes.

Lancet placed the sealed Sacramenta case heavily on his desk. ”We need to talk about this.”