Chapter 119: The Blood That Obeys
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Above him, the city continued breathing, unaware.
As Sekhmet climbed back toward the underground market corridors, his bats returned to the void land with silent flutters. He sent them ahead mentally with a simple command.
"Find the scavenger ghoul."
The bats obeyed, slipping into the void land like shadows diving into a lake.
Only Sekhmet and Bat Bat remained outside.
Bat Bat’s head drooped as they walked. Her earlier bravado faded like a candle burning out.
When they reached the surface and returned to the city streets, the night air hit them with cool freshness. It smelled of stone, smoke, and distant cooking. It smelled like civilization pretending it was clean.
Sekhmet moved through the streets quietly. He avoided crowds. He avoided attention.
The humiliations of merchant wars could wait until daylight.
Right now he was only a man returning home with blood on his soul. By the time he reached Dawn House, the mansion gates opened with a familiar creak.
The servants did not rush him this time. The house was quieter at night. Softer. Less eager to chatter and gossip.
Sekhmet entered his room.
Bat Bat barely waited for permission. She leaped onto the bed, flopped dramatically, and sighed like a veteran returning from war.
"I am tired," she mumbled.
Then her eyes closed. Within seconds she was asleep, tiny chest rising and falling, wings twitching occasionally as if she was dreaming of biting necks and declaring herself queen.
Sekhmet stood beside the bed for a moment, watching her. A strange warmth stirred in him — something like affection mixed with exhaustion.
He turned away and sat down slowly at the edge of the bed. His hunger was not fully under control.
It never was. It sat inside his throat like a patient killer.
But he could endure it for now. Because his mind had bigger questions. A system notification still lingered in his thoughts.
[Blood proficiency at 100%.]
A skill upgrade available.
Sekhmet stared at the wall, eyes unfocused, thoughts moving in quiet lines.
"Which skill do I upgrade," he wondered.
"Do I take a level one skill to level two and expand my options.
Or do I push a level two skill to level three and sharpen my blade.
Blood Control is already level two. It is stable. It is useful. Level three would make it terrifying.
Blood Eye at level one could become sharper, and appraisal in Null can be the difference between profit and death.
Blood Sword is still crude. Level two could give it form and flexibility.
Blood Puppet is dangerous. Raising it might increase slots, control, range, or thresholds. That could change everything."
He exhaled slowly.
Bat Bat slept on, unaware of the weight sitting in Sekhmet’s mind.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stared into the darkness.
"I am back in the city," he thought. "But the city is not peaceful. It is another battlefield, just with cleaner floors and sharper smiles."
His fingers tapped lightly against the bed frame. He did not decide yet.
Not now. He would think a bit more. And then he would move.
Sekhmet’s fingers tapped lightly against the bed frame.
Tap... tap...
He stared at the darkness, and the system’s last notification hovered in his mind like a blade suspended above his neck.
He looked down at Bat Bat again, her tiny mouth slightly open, asleep like a child who had eaten too much jam and regretted nothing. Sekhmet exhaled slowly.
"Which skill," he thought, and his mind immediately produced the list like a merchant producing inventory.
Blood Control was the one he used most.
Blood Control was the one that saved him again and again.
It was not flashy like a sword. It was not mysterious like puppetry. It was simple. Clean. Efficient. It turned blood into a tool, and in Null, tools mattered more than pride.
Blood Puppet was dangerous, and also necessary.
And now there was something else: the way Raka’s eyes had turned empty for a breath when the puppet took hold. The way a chaos rank three had become obedient without a fight in his soul.
Sekhmet’s jaw tightened slightly.
"Blood Control will keep me alive," he thought.
"Blood Puppet will give me leverage."
He made his decision. Not with excitement.
With the cold calm of someone who had learned that the world did not reward hesitation.
Sekhmet stood and walked to the small table near the window. The moonlight slid across his floor in pale stripes. The city outside was quiet now, but not asleep. Slik City never fully slept. Too many species. Too many businesses. Too many secrets.
He sat down and closed his eyes. He did not pray. He did not beg. He simply thought of the command inside his mind.
"Upgrade..."
A soft chime answered.
And the system opened his old status window first, as if reminding him what he had been only hours ago.
[Status Window-
Host: Sekhmet Dawn
Race: Human
Location: Lower Purgatory (Null)
Overall Battle Power: 16000
Chaos Energy: 8000
Chaos Body: 8000
Chaos Energy Purity: 12%
Blood Awakening: 3%
Blood Proficiency: 100/100
Skills Blood Control Lv2 Blood Sword Lv1 (Can transform blood into a sword for now).
Blood Eye Lv1 (Appraise items and beings).
Blood Summon Lv2 (Summon blood minions using blood. Stronger blood = stronger summon. Minimum summon battle power: 1,000. Rare summons can evolve into Harpies.)
Blood Puppet Lv1 (Slots 1/1) Cannot betray master. Forced conversion if target battle power is not more than 2x host. Stronger targets require willing acceptance.]
Sekhmet stared at it in silence.
It still felt unreal that his battle power was sixteen thousand.
Months ago, he had believed he was fifteen hundred. He had lived like a cripple while carrying the body of a monster.
Now he looked at the numbers and felt the same strange emotion he always felt when he saw his own power.
Not pride. Suspicion.
Because power in Null was never free. It was always a trade, and the bill always arrived later.
He exhaled slowly and pushed the thought aside for now.