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His father had never been a man who wrapped feelings in soft cloth. He believed love was shown through preparation, not words. He believed survival was the first requirement for any affection.
Sekhmet folded the letter slowly.
Elena watched his face carefully.
"They gave you a big responsibility," she said.
Sekhmet nodded once.
"It is my responsibility," he replied. His voice was calm, but inside he felt a familiar frustration. "He’s still gone. Even when I return from purgatory, he’s gone."
He exhaled, forcing himself to accept what he could not change.
"But I need to rest a few days before I handle business," he added. "My body is back, but my mind is... still walking out of the forest."
Elena nodded, approving.
"Rest is not weakness," she said. "Only fools believe exhaustion is bravery."
Sekhmet looked at her.
"Can you tell the vice general manager to meet me after two days," he asked. "Not tomorrow. Two days."
Elena nodded immediately.
"Yes," she said. "I will inform him. And I will remind him that if he wastes your time, I will personally throw him into the street."
Sekhmet’s lips twitched slightly.
"That might be excessive," he said.
Elena’s eyes hardened with playful menace.
"It will be educational," she replied.
Bat Bat nodded enthusiastically.
"Throw man," it said.
Sekhmet sighed.
Elena turned to leave, then paused at the door.
Her gaze shifted toward the hallway outside.
Voices drifted in faintly.
Giggles.
Whispers.
Too many footsteps pretending they were not footsteps.
Elena’s mouth tightened.
"The servant girls," she said, sounding like a commander describing an incoming disaster. "They are making a fuss again."
Sekhmet’s shoulders sagged.
"They were already doing that," he muttered.
Elena’s eyes softened a fraction.
"They were afraid you died," she said simply. "Fear turns into fuss when people do not know what else to do."
Sekhmet did not respond immediately. He remembered being chained in darkness, listening to water drip like time mocking him. He remembered thinking nobody would come.
Now he had too many people coming. He exhaled slowly.
"Tell them to calm down," he said. "And tell them I am not a festival they can enjoy."
Elena smiled.
"I will tell them," she said. "They will not listen. But I will tell them anyway."
She left the room.
The door closed.
Sekhmet stood in silence again, holding the letter like a weight.
Bat Bat hopped onto his shoulder.
"Master busy now," it said.
Sekhmet stared at the folded paper.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Busy."
He glanced at the system window again, at the numbers that now made sense, and at the new control he had gained over his blood.
He did not know what his real battle power felt like yet, not truly. He had seen the number, but he had not tested it. He had not stood in the open and let the city’s air press against his chaos energy without the restraint hiding him.
That would come.
Soon.
Maybe today /tonight, at night he will go out.
Today, he had returned alive.
Today, he had become Chaos Rank 1 without realizing it.
Today, he had stepped into civilization again with a monster inside him and a system in his mind.
And outside his door, servants were already whispering like birds around a ripe fruit, ready to swarm him with questions, admiration, and embarrassing loyalty.
Sekhmet closed his eyes for a heartbeat.
Then he opened them, expression steady. He folded the letter once more and placed it carefully on his table.
"Two days," he murmured.
Bat Bat nodded solemnly.
"Two days," it echoed.
At night Sekhmet would discover what ten thousand five hundred truly meant when tested against the world.
He looked at his final status window again.
[Status Window-
Host: Sekhmet Dawn
Race: Human
Location: Lower Purgatory (Null)
Overall Battle Power: 10500
Chaos Energy: 5000
Chaos Body: 5500
Chaos Energy Purity: 11%
Blood Awakening: 2%
Blood Proficiency: 56.6/100
Skills-
Blood Control Lv2
Blood Sword Lv1 (Can transform blood into a sword for now)
Blood Eye Lv1 (Appraise items and beings)
Blood Summon Lv1 (Summon blood minions using blood. Stronger blood = stronger summon. No max limit.)
Blood Puppet Lv1 (Slots 0/1) Cannot betray master. Forced conversion if target battle power is not more than 2x host. Stronger targets require willing acceptance.]
Outside Sekhmet’s door, the hallway was not quiet.
It only pretended to be.
There was the soft shuffle of feet that tried very hard to sound like "walking past" instead of "camping outside." There were whispers that tried very hard to sound like "work-related discussion" instead of "romantic speculation."
And there was the unmistakable sound of a broom being lifted like a weapon.
SWISH!
Auntie Elena stepped into the corridor with the expression of a woman who had raised one reckless boy, managed an entire merchant house, and was one misplaced giggle away from starting a war.
Three servant girls froze mid-whisper.
One of them was holding a tray for no reason at all.
Another had a comb.
The third had a bouquet of flowers that looked suspiciously stolen from the courtyard.
Elena stared at them.
They stared back.
Elena did not shout right away. That was the scariest part.
"Explain," she said softly.
The tray girl swallowed.
"We were... checking if the young master needed anything."
Elena’s gaze slid to the comb.
"Is he a horse," she asked.
The comb girl flinched.
"No, Auntie Elena."
Elena’s gaze slid to the flowers.
The flower girl tried to smile.
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
"Did you pick those from Lady Merin’s garden," she asked.
The flower girl’s smile died.
"...Yes."
Elena’s voice remained calm and terrifying.
"Lady Merin uses those flowers for her incense ritual," she said. "The one where she prays for patience."
The flower girl paled.
Elena stepped closer, broom still in hand.
"Now," she continued, "if her patience fails because her flowers disappeared, do you know who she will curse."
The girls shook their heads quickly.
"You," Elena said. "All of you. And then she will curse me, for allowing you to become idiots."