Chapter 49: Between Hunger and Choice II
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The space inside was larger than it looked from outside. It widened after the narrow mouth, opening into a low cavern with uneven ground. Old animal bones were scattered near one wall. The air smelled damp and stale, like stone that had not seen sunlight in a thousand years.
Drip... Drip...
Somewhere deeper, water fell from a crack in the ceiling, hitting a shallow puddle with a steady rhythm.
The sound should have been comforting.
Instead, it made Sekhmet’s nerves tighten.
Water dripping always sounded like time laughing at you.
Sekhmet set Lily down carefully near the back wall, away from the entrance. Her cloak was still wrapped around her, but it had shifted during the run. He adjusted it, pulling it up to cover her shoulders.
Lily did not wake.
Her eyes remained closed. Her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks.
One guard immediately knelt beside her, checking her pulse, checking her breathing, checking her for any wounds.
"She is alive," the guard whispered.
Sekhmet’s chest loosened slightly.
He turned away before anyone could see relief on his face.
The other guard leaned against the stone, panting, blood dripping onto the ground.
Plip... Plip...
Bat Bat landed on Sekhmet’s shoulder, then crawled down his arm like a tiny commander climbing onto a throne.
"Tired," Bat Bat announced.
Sekhmet ignored it.
He moved to the entrance and listened.
Silence at first.
Then, far away. The kobols were still searching. Their voices echoed through ravines like hungry birds.
Sekhmet pressed his palm to the stone near the entrance, feeling vibration through rock.
Footsteps.
Not close.
But coming.
Sekhmet exhaled slowly.
They had bought time.
Not much.
Maybe ten minutes.
Maybe fifteen, if the kobols lost the trail for a moment.
His body sagged slightly as the adrenaline faded.
The moment he stopped moving, his exhaustion hit like a club. His knees wanted to buckle. His shoulders ached. His hands trembled faintly. He forced himself upright.
The guard by Lily looked up at him, eyes sharp.
"Do you need help," the guard asked.
Sekhmet shook his head once.
"No," he said.
It was a lie.
But it was the only answer he could tolerate.
He stepped deeper into the cavern and sat with his back against the wall opposite Lily, keeping line of sight to the entrance while still being close enough to protect her.
His breathing slowed. The dripping continued. For a few seconds, it felt almost peaceful.
Then the hunger returned.
Not the ordinary hunger of the stomach.
Not the fatigue of muscles.
This hunger crawled up his throat like a living thing.
Sekhmet’s eyes drifted to the injured guard leaning against the wall.
Blood ran down the guard’s arm, pooling on the ground.
Plip... Plip...
The scent hit Sekhmet’s senses like a hook.
Warm blood.
Human blood.
Not kobol blood.
Not orc blood.
Human blood carries a different texture of life. It smelled cleaner. Richer. Softer. It made his mouth water in an instant.
Sekhmet’s throat tightened.
He swallowed.
The swallow did nothing.
The system spoke again, quiet and precise.
[Ding! System Advisory.
Host condition unstable. Blood intake recommended for stabilization and combat readiness.]
Sekhmet’s jaw clenched.
"Shut up."
He did not say it out loud.
But he thought it with enough venom that he wished the system could feel insulted.
The guard by Lily shifted, lifting his head as if he sensed Sekhmet’s change.
The guard asked cautiously, "Are you alright."
Sekhmet stared at the floor.
"I am fine," he said.
His voice sounded wrong to his own ears.
Too tight.
Too low.
The hunger sharpened.
Sekhmet’s eyes flicked to Lily.
Her neck was covered by her cloak now.
Good.
His gaze snapped back to the bleeding guard.
The smell filled the cavern.
Sekhmet’s fingers dug into his own palm.
Pain.
He needed pain.
He pressed harder until his nails cut skin.
A sting.
Not enough.
His canines ached again.
His body leaned forward slightly, almost without permission.
The guard leaned back instinctively, noticing.
"Sekhmet," the guard said, voice turning wary. "What is—"
The words did not finish.
Sekhmet’s control cracked.
Not fully, not like a complete possession, but like a dam splitting.
The bloodlust surged.
His vision sharpened.
The dripping sound grew louder. His heartbeat roared in his ears.
Ba - dum... Ba - dum... Ba - dum...
And his body moved.
Fast.
Too fast for a man with fifteen hundred battle power.
Sekhmet crossed the space between them in a blur, grabbing the bleeding guard’s wrist and yanking him forward.
The guard tried to pull back, shock flashing across his face.
"What—"
Sekhmet slammed him against the stone wall with one arm.
THUD!
The guard’s sword clattered to the ground. The guard raised his other hand to strike, to defend, to survive.
Sekhmet caught that hand too.
Then he leaned in and bit.
CRUNCH — Shhk!
Hot blood flooded his mouth.
The guard’s eyes widened in horror, then pain.
"Aa—!"
Sekhmet drank.
The relief hit instantly, like air after drowning. His muscles loosened. His fatigue peeled away in ragged layers.
The hunger purred. He swallowed and swallowed, tasting iron and life and chaos energy.
The guard struggled, but weaker now, shock slowing him more than strength.
Sekhmet drank deeper.
The guard’s breathing became uneven. His knees bent. He was slipping.
That was when Sekhmet’s mind screamed.
"Stop."
The word stabbed through the blood haze.
Sekhmet jerked back sharply, blood dripping from his mouth.
The guard sagged against the wall, pale, shaking, eyes wide.
Sekhmet stared at his own blood-smeared lips.
His chest heaved.
He had almost drained him.
He had almost killed him.
The other guard reached for his weapon, eyes full of fear.
"Monster," the guard whispered.
Sekhmet’s gaze snapped to him.
The bloodlust wanted the second guard too.
Two meals. Two stabilizations. Two living supplies.
The thought sickened Sekhmet even as it tempted him.
He took one step forward.
The second guard raised his blade, hands trembling.
"Do not," the guard warned.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed.
His hunger did not care.
His body moved again.