Chapter 335: The Meeting IV
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The camp spread out ahead under lantern light, beasts, guards, and wealthy pretension all arranged in careful layers.
The black armored lizard lay low near one side like a scaled siege problem pretending to rest.
The two white griffin-like birds watched from their perch with hard yellow eyes and silver-feathered disdain.
Armored men shifted formation as the carriage approached.
The wheels rolled to a stop at the edge of Mihos Dawn’s chosen ground.
For one heartbeat, no one moved. Then the camp itself reacted. Not with a shout. Not with formal welcome. With organized suspicion.
Two outer guards stepped closer. Mounted men angled slightly to the sides, creating a loose field rather than a direct blockade. One of the white griffin-like birds lifted its head fully and opened its wings by a fraction, enough to show how broad the span truly was. The black plated lizard did not rise, but its one visible golden eye opened wider, and steam rolled faintly from between its teeth into the colder night air.
Kess stood near the carriage window, trying very hard not to look like a servant who had been turned into an insult.
Inside the carriage, Bat Bat pressed her face much too close to the window slit and whispered, "The big lizard looks like it eats bad manners."
One of the three rank-three maids answered without looking at her, "Do not test that thought."
Bat Bat leaned back with exaggerated dignity. "I am observing. Not provoking."
No one in the carriage believed that.
Sekhmet reached for the door.
Elena spoke quietly before he opened it. "He will attack with his mouth first."
Sekhmet replied, "I know."
She continued, "He will try to place you below him before anything else."
"I know."
The three rank-three maids remained silent, but their eyes were alive. They remembered the auction house. They remembered what happened when men decided lower Dawn softness meant weakness. They were not eager for blood tonight, but they were not afraid of it either. If Mihos crossed the line, they would answer. Their faces stayed composed. Their bodies did not.
Sekhmet opened the carriage door and stepped down first.
The camp saw him properly then.
A young man. Too calm. Too controlled.
Not dressed like a merchant’s son, not dressed like a lesser-city heir desperate to impress. Dressed like a man who had chosen the exact amount of restraint he wanted visible and refused to display one inch more.
He felt it the moment his boots touched the ground. It was pressure. Not from the guards. But from ahead. From within the camp.
It was strong. Old-blood strong.
The kind of strength that did not spill wildly because it had long ago learned that true rank wasted little. Sekhmet’s eyes sharpened by a degree. So Mihos was not all silk, signets, and inherited arrogance. There was substance there. Enough that it mattered.
Elena stepped down after him.
Then the three rank-three maids.
They spread naturally, not enough to signal open challenge, enough to make flanking Sekhmet less simple than any watcher would prefer. Bat Bat started to descend next, looked at the nearest armored guard, and immediately composed her face into what she clearly believed was a noblewoman’s political seriousness.
It was still Bat Bat.
The effect was not improved.
Kess, now finally allowed to stop running, took two careful breaths and stepped aside. His legs wanted to shake. He forbade them.
The nearest guard looked from Kess to Sekhmet to Elena and then back again. He knew enough not to address the lower-branch young master like a roadside merchant, but not enough to hide his uncertainty under good polish.
"You will wait."
Sekhmet looked at him.
Only looked.
The guard’s spine stiffened involuntarily.
Before any answer could be given, movement stirred deeper inside the camp.
A path opened through layered servants and guard lines.
Mihos Dawn did not rush. That would have lowered the moment.
He came forward at exactly the pace a man used when he believed the ground ahead belonged to him by right and everyone watching ought to feel grateful he chose to walk on it at all. He was handsome in the sharp, curated way Kess remembered. Dark gold hair combed back with too much care to look careless. Noble face. Excellent bones. Eyes bright and cold and already edged with insult. Fine travel robes in black and silver that whispered expense rather than shouted it.
And yes. He is strong.
Sekhmet saw that immediately and let the system move behind his eyes. "Blood eye."
[SYSTEM Notification: Blood Eye activated.]
The world narrowed for a second around Mihos. Information rose in clean internal lines.
[Name: Mihos Dawn
Race: Human. (Dawn Blood Noble)
Status: Active combatant.
Chaos Rank: Five.
Chaos purity: 70 percent.
Overall Battle Power: 58000
Chaos Energy: 30000
Chaos Body: 28000
Threat Assessment: Middle.]
Not enough to frighten him. But enough to matter. His chaos energy purity was the biggest problem.
Mihos stopped a short distance away and looked at Sekhmet as though trying to decide which insult would wound best if placed early enough.
When he spoke, the disdain was so polished it had likely been taught to him before his first weapon drills.
"So."
His gaze moved once over Sekhmet’s face, then his clothes, then Elena, then the maids, then Kess, and finally back again.
"You are the low born."
Bat Bat made a tiny sound inside her throat. One of the maids’ hands tightened by less than an inch at her side. Elena did not move at all.
Sekhmet answered calmly. "And you are Mihos who wants to meet me."
It was not the reaction Mihos wanted. He smiled faintly. There was no warmth in it.
"Yes," he said. "Though if your father had raised you properly, perhaps you would have known to greet the heir of the house by kneeling."
There it was. Positioning. Mouth first, exactly as Elena said.
Sekhmet held his gaze. "If my father had raised me properly, perhaps this meeting would not be taking place on a roadside stage. But in a graveyard."