Chapter 91: Tiny Terror IV
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"Fine. Bat Bat will be good."
Elena’s mouth twitched faintly. Then she turned and carried Bat Bat out.
Bat Bat kicked the air. Tiny feet flailing.
"Unfair," she complained.
The door closed again.
Sekhmet returned to his ledger. He forced his mind to focus on the business.
But even that was difficult when Bat Bat’s chaos echoed through the house like a small war.
For the next hour, the lesson continued.
Elena taught Bat Bat greetings. She taught Bat Bat not to interrupt. She taught Bat Bat the difference between "enemy" and "servant."
Bat Bat argued about all of it.
Bat Bat attempted to escape six times.
Elena caught her six times.
Bat Bat attempted to hide in a flower vase.
Elena pulled her out.
Bat Bat attempted to pretend she was a decoration.
Elena did not believe her.
Bat Bat attempted to bribe Elena with compliments.
Elena ignored it.
Bat Bat attempted to bribe Elena with the promise of "sharing meat snacks."
Elena reminded her she had no snack authority.
Bat Bat attempted to bribe Elena by offering to pee on Elena’s enemies.
Elena’s silence lasted five full seconds, which somehow felt more threatening than shouting. Then she said calmly, "Do not say that again."
Bat Bat whispered, "Okay."
By the end of the hour, Bat Bat’s energy began to fade.
She had spent too much chaos energy maintaining human form while flying badly, running, arguing, and making trouble. Even her pride could not keep her awake forever.
The lesson ended in the dining room.
Bat Bat sat on the table, arms crossed, eyes half closed, trying to look angry but failing because her head kept drooping.
Elena stood in front of her with the posture of someone who had won a battle without sweating.
Elena asked, "What do you say when you want something."
Bat Bat’s eyes opened slightly.
"I want," Bat Bat mumbled.
Elena’s eyebrows lifted.
Bat Bat sighed.
"Please," Bat Bat corrected reluctantly.
Elena nodded once. "And what do you say when you receive it?"
Bat Bat’s eyelids drooped again. "Thank you," she whispered.
Elena nodded again. "Good," she said.
Bat Bat blinked. Then she fell forward.
Plop.
Her forehead hit the table gently. She did not move. She was asleep.
Elena stared at the sleeping tiny girl, then sighed softly.
"She learned," Elena muttered. "A little."
Sekhmet did not see that moment directly, because he was in the library, but the system registered Bat Bat’s growth the moment the hour of real learning ended.
Inside Sekhmet’s mind, a soft chime appeared.
[Ding! Bat Bat Mental Knowledge: +3%
Current Mental Knowledge: 13%]
Sekhmet paused mid-page. He exhaled.
"Only three percent," he thought, "and it took a war."
He did not complain.
Because three percent was progress. And progress, in Null, was the only honest currency besides chaos stone.
After the lesson, Elena ordered the young maids to stop crowding the hallway and do their work. They obeyed reluctantly, still jealous, still whispering about "the master’s adorable summon," and still making dramatic sighs as if romance itself had betrayed them. Bat Bat and Sekhmet slept together. They imagined wild things.
Bat Bat slept through all of it, staying asleep past lunch, the tiny terror finally drained.
Sekhmet remained in the library. He had told Elena he would spend the day learning.
That was not an excuse.
He needed information. He needed understanding.
Not about romance, not about gossip, not about maids fighting for attention.
He needed answers. He needed to understand the world he was stepping back into after years in purgatory. He needed to know who controlled Slik now.
He needed to know what the underground market gangs were doing. He needed to know what kind of enemies might come after him.
He needed to know what kind of god could walk into the city gate wearing a cloak and show a battle power that his blood eye could not read.
He needed to know what kind of people existed in the city now that he was strong enough to be noticed. He walked along the shelves, fingers brushing spines.
Scrolls.
Records.
Old contracts.
Maps.
He pulled one out. A ledger of city trade permits.
He pulled another. A record of city guard captains.
He pulled another. A book on null treasure classifications.
His mind absorbed information quickly now, faster than before, as if the divine blood had sharpened not only muscle but focus.
He turned pages. He made notes. He cross-referenced names. He searched for any mention of abyss class artifacts.
Nothing clear. As expected... Those were myths that people either mocked or feared too much to write down.
He searched for any mention of void domains.
Rare.
Most were rumors.
He searched for any mention of blood witches.
There were a few lines about "witch tribes" and "blood crafts" in the Null, vague and careful, written like the author feared being cursed through ink and blood.
Sekhmet closed the book and stared at the shelf again. There was still something missing. Something he could not name yet.
Some thread connecting him to gods who had sent gifts.
Some reason the Null itself seemed to push him forward like a pawn being moved by hands too large to see.
He breathed slowly and walked deeper into the library wing, toward the restricted shelves his father kept locked when Sekhmet was younger.
He reached the old cabinet door. It was not locked now. His father had left the house to him, at least temporarily.
Sekhmet placed his palm on the cabinet and opened it slowly.
Creak...
Inside were old records wrapped in protective cloth.
The kind of documents that were not meant for servants. The kind meant for family.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed. "What did you hide in here," he thought, "Father.’
He reached in and pulled out a bundle carefully. The cloth was older than it looked. He placed it on the table, untied it slowly, and revealed the first document.
His gaze sharpened. He leaned forward. He began reading.