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The change was immediate. The air smelled different. Not damp rot. Not stale stone. It smelled like grass warmed by the sun.
In front of them stretched a vast grassland, green and wide, rippling under wind like an ocean.
Sekhmet stopped walking without realizing it.
Lily stopped beside him.
Bat Bat flew up and hovered, eyes wide.
"Big," it whispered.
Far ahead, beyond the grassland, something dark and massive cut across the horizon.
Walls.
Real walls.
Not jagged cliffs.
Not natural stone.
Walls built by hands and power.
Huge, towering, layered with defensive runes that shimmered faintly even from this distance, like heat haze.
And at the center of that distant wall, a gate.
A true gate.
A mouth of civilization.
Even from far away, Sekhmet could see movement — tiny dots like ants, flowing toward the gate in lines.
As they walked closer, the dots became people.
Hundreds.
Then thousands.
A long queue snaking across the grassland, waiting to enter.
Caravans. Merchants. Soldiers. Travelers. Beast tamers. Hunters dragging carcasses. Couples. Families.
Noise drifted toward them in faint waves.
Shouts.
Laughter.
Argument.
Life.
Lily exhaled, relief written on her face.
"We are back," she whispered.
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the walls.
He did not feel only relief.
He felt danger.
Civilization was not safer than purgatory. It was just different. In purgatory, monsters hunted openly.
In the city, monsters wore clothes.
Bat Bat fluttered down and landed on Sekhmet’s shoulder like a proud banner.
"We’re home," it announced.
Sekhmet stared at the city walls and the giant gate, and the line of thousands waiting to pass through.
"Not home," Sekhmet murmured. "Not yet."
They stepped forward into the grassland, walking toward the gate, toward the waiting crowd, toward the first breath of civilization beyond the wild purgatory lands.
Only one day away now. And Sekhmet knew the next danger would not come from shadows under trees.
It would come from eyes that could count his worth.
It’s almost evening. Tonight they will camp here and tomorrow morning they will go to the city.
Moonlight painted the grassland pale, turning every blade into a thin silver needle.
The camp was quiet.
Lily slept with her cloak wrapped tight, her breathing steady, face softened by exhaustion. Bat Bat was curled near her neck like a strange red scarf with wings, making tiny chirping noises in its sleep as if it was arguing with a dream. The fire had burned down to a low orange heart, barely strong enough to keep the cold away.
Crackle... crackle...
Sekhmet sat with his back against a rock, watching the darkness beyond the circle of light.
His throat burned again.
Not from thirst for water. Not from fatigue. From hunger that lived inside his veins now, a craving that did not ask politely.
His tongue pressed against his teeth. His canines ached.
"I am fine," he told himself, the lie feeling cheap.
His body did not believe him.
The system’s calm voice slid through his mind like a blade through cloth.
[Ding! System Advisory-
Host blood-hunger rising.
Recommendation: controlled feeding required to maintain stability.]
Sekhmet exhaled slowly and stood.
He did not wake Lily. He did not touch her. He did not even look at her for too long, because her warm scent carried temptation, and he hated the part of himself that noticed.
He moved away from camp in silence.
Step... step... step...
He kept his pace measured, not running, not making noise, letting the darkness swallow him.
The grassland at night felt different than the forest. The forest hid things. The grassland exposed them. The wind moved freely, carrying scent for miles.
Woooo...
Sekhmet lowered his posture slightly and let his senses stretch. His Blood Eye did not only appraise. It sharpened his awareness of life, of heartbeat, of warm blood moving under skin.
Far ahead, near a shallow dip in the land, something moved.
A lone figure.
Not a beast. Humanoid.
Sekhmet stopped, eyes narrowing.
He activated Blood Eye fully.
[Name: Unknown Wanderer
Overall Battle Power: 2800
Race: Human (Purgatory-born)]
Condition: injured, dehydration, fear]
A scavenger.
Probably someone who had been watching the road for travelers to rob. Probably someone who thought the night made him brave.
Sekhmet’s jaw tightened.
"I do not want to kill humans."
But the next thought came colder.
"And I do not want to starve."
He moved closer, keeping his steps quiet, letting the wind cover sound. The figure crouched behind a small rock outcrop, clutching a short blade. His breathing was loud. His stance was wrong. The way he held the weapon screamed desperation more than skill.
When Sekhmet was close enough, the man sprang out.
"Stop," the scavenger barked, voice shaking. "Drop your bag. Drop your weapon. I don’t want to kill you, but I will."
Sekhmet stood still, letting the moonlight reveal his face.
The scavenger’s eyes widened slightly.
"You... you’re alone," the man said, and greed flickered across his fear. "Good."
He took a step forward.
Sekhmet did not move.
The scavenger licked dry lips. "Give me your chaos stones," he demanded. "And whatever storage tool you got. I know people like you always have one."
Sekhmet’s gaze stayed flat.
"I am not here for conversation," he said.
The scavenger’s face twisted. "Then you are here to die."
He lunged.
Tap—!
The blade slashed toward Sekhmet’s stomach.
Sekhmet stepped aside like he had all the time in the world, then struck the man’s wrist with the edge of his forearm.
Crack!
The blade flew from the scavenger’s hand.
Clink!
The scavenger hissed, pain twisting his face, and he swung his fist.
Sekhmet caught the fist.
He tightened his grip.
The scavenger’s bones creaked like old wood.
The man’s eyes widened.
"Wait—"
Sekhmet slammed him down onto the grass.
THUD!
The scavenger coughed, air leaving his lungs.
Sekhmet leaned over him, eyes cold.
"You chose the wrong prey," Sekhmet said quietly.
The scavenger tried to crawl back, panic returning full force. He reached for the fallen blade with his good hand.
Sekhmet’s hunger surged.
The scent of blood from the scavenger’s cracked wrist rose into the air.
Sekhmet’s canines ached again.
He grabbed the man by the collar and yanked him close.
The scavenger’s eyes filled with terror.
"Please," he stammered. "I— I was hungry. I didn’t—"
Sekhmet’s voice came out rougher than he wanted.
"You have no idea what hunger means," he muttered.
He tilted the man’s head back, exposing the neck.
The scavenger’s pulse hammered visibly under skin.
Ba - dum... Ba - dum... Ba - dum...
Sekhmet froze for a heartbeat, fighting himself.
Memories flashed—his own shock, his own disgust, the first time his teeth broke skin. The moment relief tasted like sin.
His throat burned. His hands trembled once.
Then he made a choice. Not a wild one. A controlled one. He leaned in and bit.
CRUNCH —Shhk!
Hot blood filled his mouth.
The scavenger’s body jerked, a strangled sound escaping his throat.
"Ghk—!"
Sekhmet drank.
Not like a monster tearing into meat.
Like a man dying of thirst taking the first swallow of water.
Relief poured through him instantly—warmth spreading into his chest, strength sliding back into his limbs, the burning in his throat finally easing.
He swallowed twice.
Three times.
He forced himself to stop.
He pulled back sharply, breath ragged, blood on his lips.
Drip...
The scavenger sagged in his arms, pale and shaking but still breathing.
Sekhmet held him upright for a moment, ensuring he did not die.
The man’s eyes fluttered, unfocused, fear turning sluggish.
Sekhmet wiped his mouth with his sleeve, jaw clenched.
"I warned myself," he whispered. "I warned myself and it still happened."
The system spoke quietly, like a clerk recording a transaction.
[Ding! Blood Proficiency increase detected.
Blood Proficiency: +0.6%.
Current Blood Proficiency: 56.6%.
Host stability improved.]
Sekhmet closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Stability," he thought bitterly. "That is what we call it now."
He lowered the scavenger gently onto the grass. The man groaned, still alive, still human, still terrified.
Sekhmet stepped back, refusing to look at the bite marks too long.
He formed a small hardened blood patch with Blood Control and pressed it against the wound to stop the bleeding.
Ssshh...
The blood sealed roughly, not healing fully, but preventing death.
Sekhmet stood.
His hunger had quieted.
Not gone.
But quiet enough to let him think like himself again. He opened the void space and threw the man into the void land. He turned and walked away into the night.
Step... step... step...
By the time he returned to camp, the fire was still a low orange glow. Lily still slept. Bat Bat still chirped in its dream.
Sekhmet sat down again, staring at the moonlit grass.
His lips tasted faintly of iron. His mind tasted faintly of guilt. And yet his body felt stronger. He hated how both truths could exist at the same time.
(Note: Check out the Ant lord and Void lord books if you want.)