Chapter 26: The Lake That Complained V

Chapter 26: 26: The Lake That Complained V ---

He looked down at his current coat, the old grey one falling apart, stitched with survival and dirt. He tossed it aside without ceremony and put on the nightmare coat.

The moment it settled on his shoulders, he felt the difference. The coat hugged him without restricting movement. It warmed slightly, adjusting to his body. The air around him seemed to change, as if his scent was being wrapped and muffled.

He pulled on the nightmare boots next, replacing his hole-ridden shoes.

The boots fit perfectly, as if they had been made for him. When he stood and walked a few steps, his feet felt lighter, more secure. His steps made less sound.

Tap...

Almost silent.

Sekhmet exhaled slowly.

"Better."

He glanced down at the bat perched on his shoulder. The bat looked at the coat and boots, then looked at Sekhmet like it was evaluating whether he was finally worthy of existing.

"Do not judge me," Sekhmet muttered.

The bat blinked, then made a satisfied sound.

"Batbat."

Sekhmet rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back toward the wilderness.

"Three months to the city."

That meant three months of walking, fighting, hiding, and cultivating on the move. He had spent over 4.6 years in purgatory already. That number sat heavy in his mind, but he did not let it become a spiral. The past did not matter. Only the next step mattered.

"By the time I reach the city, my training will be over."

That was not a comforting thought. It was a deadline.

"I need to raise my chaos energy purity as much as possible and raise my blood proficiency too."

He had one goal now.

"Get stronger."

The bat chirped, as if agreeing, though it probably just wanted more food.

Sekhmet began moving forward, leaving the lake behind. He followed the natural terrain, keeping to higher ground where possible. The nightmare boots helped. He moved with less noise, less strain. The coat reduced the scent of blood that still lingered faintly in his body no matter how clean he was.

Hours passed.

The sun climbed.

Heat shimmered above rocks.

Sekhmet drank water when needed, but he did not trust it to solve his deeper problem. He could feel the blood thirst now like a quiet creature inside him. It did not scream like last night. It did not claw at his throat. It simply waited.

Waiting was worse.

Waiting meant being patient.

He moved through scattered trees and rough ridges until the terrain shifted again into a more broken region. Tall stones stood like pillars. Shadows pooled between them. The air cooled slightly, and the wind carried a faint scent of fur.

Sekhmet slowed.

His instincts sharpened.

The bat peeked out of his pocket and sniffed the air, then made a quiet sound.

"Bat..."

Sekhmet’s gaze narrowed.

He heard it.

A faint scrape.

A crunch of stone under something’s weight.

Then a low growl.

Grrrr...

Sekhmet formed Blood Sword instantly, but kept it low, ready.

Shhhh...

He stepped around a pillar.

And saw the beast.

It was wolf-like but larger, with a body built for sprinting and tearing. Its fur was dark grey, mottled with streaks of purple. Its eyes glowed faintly. Its mouth hung slightly open, saliva dripping, and its teeth were too long.

A purgatory predator.

It watched Sekhmet with hungry intelligence.

Sekhmet activated Blood Eye.

[Ding! System notification- Voidfang Wolf.

Battle Power: 2600

Status: Hungry. Aggressive.

Note: Pack species. Others are likely nearby.]

Sekhmet’s jaw tightened.

Pack.

Of course.

The wolf took a step forward, growling louder.

Grrrrrr...

Sekhmet did not back away. Backing away invited chase. He stood still, blood sword ready.

"Come," he murmured.

The wolf lunged.

Whoosh!

Sekhmet sidestepped with the nightmare boots, the movement smooth and silent. He slashed across the wolf’s side.

Shhk!

Blood sprayed.

The wolf yelped but did not stop. It twisted mid-lunge, snapping at Sekhmet’s leg.

Snap!

Sekhmet kicked it in the jaw.

Thud!

The wolf stumbled back, then snarled again.

From the shadows between pillars, two more wolves emerged.

Grrrr... Grrrr...

Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed.

"Three."

Manageable.

But not trivial with his current battle power and ongoing injuries.

The bat crawled out, clinging to Sekhmet’s shoulder. Its eyes were bright, alert.

"Batbat."

Sekhmet muttered, "Do not pee on them."

The bat blinked innocently.

Sekhmet moved first. He did not wait to be surrounded. He rushed the wounded wolf, slashing deep.

Shhk!

The wolf collapsed, gurgling.

The other two lunged together.

Whoosh!

Sekhmet spun, bringing the blood sword up to block one set of jaws while he elbowed the other wolf’s snout hard.

Crack!

He used Blood Control to pull the blood from the dying wolf on the ground, shaping it into a floating shard, then flung it like a spear.

Shhh—Thunk!

The shard pierced the second wolf’s shoulder.

The wolf screamed.

Sekhmet did not waste time. He drove the blood sword into its throat.

Shhk!

The wolf spasmed and fell.

The last wolf hesitated, eyes flicking between Sekhmet and the corpses, deciding whether hunger was worth death.

Sekhmet stepped toward it slowly.

The wolf growled, then turned and ran, melting into the pillars.

Sekhmet did not chase.

He stood still for a moment, breathing hard. The battle had been quick, efficient. The nightmare gear helped. His movements were steadier now.

But the smell of fresh blood hit him.

And the quiet creature inside him stirred.

Sekhmet’s throat tightened.

His mouth felt suddenly dry.

Not water-dry.

Blood-dry.

He stared at the dead wolf closest to him. Blood pooled under it, dark and hot in the sun.

His stomach twisted.

Then he remembered the relief from last night.

The fatigue dissolves.

The clarity.

The warmth.

He hated that he remembered it as relief.

He hated that his body reacted to blood like a starving man reacting to food.

His jaw clenched.

The system chimed softly.

[Ding! System Advisory: Host blood thirst rising.

Recommendation: consume blood to maintain optimal condition.]

Sekhmet stared at the corpse.

His hands trembled slightly.

He did not want to do it.

He did not want to become that kind of creature.

But he also did not want to collapse in the wilderness because of pride.

He inhaled slowly.

Then his thoughts came, quiet and bitter.

"If blood keeps me alive, then blood is what I will drink."

He crouched beside the corpse.

His body hesitated.

His mind screamed.

Then he leaned forward and bit.

His teeth sank into the wolf’s neck, finding a vessel, and blood rushed into his mouth.

Hot.

Metallic.

Wild.

It tasted different from the werewolf blood. Less intelligent. More animals. Still alive with chaos energy, still thick with the violence of purgatory.

Sekhmet swallowed.

Gulp!

The relief was immediate again, a warm wave spreading through his chest and limbs. The thirst eased like a knot loosening. His breathing steadied.

The disgust did not vanish.

But it was quieter now, pushed aside by survival.

He drank again, forcing himself to treat it like medicine rather than pleasure.

Gulp!

His stomach warmed.

His muscles relaxed.

He pulled back, wiping his mouth quickly with his sleeve, as if hiding the act from the world would hide it from himself.

He sat back on his heels, chest rising and falling slowly.

The bat watched him.

It blinked once.

Then it made a small sound.

"Batbat."

Sekhmet’s lips twisted.

"Yes," he muttered. "I know."

He stood, grabbed the two wolf corpses, and stored them in Void Land for later use. The remaining blood smear he left. The wilderness would clean it. The wilderness always cleans.

Whooomp...

He continued walking, the sun sinking slowly toward the afternoon.

Then the system chimed again.

[Ding!]

A new notification unfolded.

[System Notification-

Blood Proficiency: +0.5%

Source: Voidfang Wolf Blood

Current Blood Proficiency: 1.5/100]

Sekhmet stared at the number.

One and a half percent.

It was small.

It was nothing.

And yet it represented something he could not unlearn.

Every time he drank, he grew.

Every time he drank, he stepped farther from the man he used to be.

Sekhmet exhaled slowly, eyes fixed ahead.

He did not let fear stop him.

He did not let shame stop him.

He simply kept moving, because in purgatory, movement was life.

And somewhere far beyond these ridges, beyond these pillars, beyond these beasts, a city waited three months away, full of answers, lies, and new opportunities for his blood harem.

Sekhmet walked toward it.