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So he decided. One drop for summon. Two drops for consumption — one for him, one for Bat Bat. He did not want to share.
But he knew Bat Bat’s growth mattered. Bat Bat was not just a minion. Bat Bat was his first companion. His scout. His battle partner.
And, annoyingly, his tiny moral anchor in a world that kept pushing him toward monstrosity.
Sekhmet opened the vial carefully.
Pop!
The dried blood flakes were delicate. He used a thin thread of blood control to lift one drop and place it into a summoning bowl.
Then he lifted the second drop. He placed it on the tip of his finger. He stared at it.
It looked like nothing. A dried speck. And yet it carried the weight of a god’s life.
Sekhmet swallowed. He brought his finger to his mouth. He tasted it.
The moment it touched his tongue, Sekhmet froze. The taste was not metallic like normal blood. It was... bright.
Warm.
Almost sweet, but not like sugar. Like life itself had flavor. Like sunlight trapped inside a drop. His body reacted instantly.
A surge of power rolled through his veins, not wild, not violent, but deep and steady, like a river that had been waiting to flow.
His breath caught. His eyes widened slightly. For a moment, his hunger felt... smaller.
Not gone. But quieter. Like a beast briefly soothed.
Sekhmet swallowed. And he felt something else. A faint echo. Not a voice. A memory fragment.
A sensation of standing high above clouds, looking down at mortals like ants, feeling nothing but endless time.
Then it vanished.
Sekhmet exhaled, his heart pounding.
Ba - dum... Ba - dum...
Bat Bat stared at him, eyes huge.
"Master... face weird," Bat Bat whispered.
Sekhmet wiped his mouth slowly. "Fine," he said.
Bat Bat sniffed the vial again, trembling.
"Bat want," it whispered.
Sekhmet lifted the third drop with blood control and placed it onto Bat Bat’s tongue.
Bat Bat froze like it had been blessed by a holy ceremony.
Then it shuddered. Its wings flared. Its eyes rolled back dramatically.
"Ooooooh," Bat Bat whispered. "Good."
Sekhmet stared. "You are acting," he said.
Bat Bat blinked and instantly looked offended. "No act," it said. "Good snack."
Sekhmet exhaled through his nose, almost amused. Now it was time.
He placed the summoning bowl in the center of the room, cleared space, and drew a small circle with a thin line of blood around it. Not necessary, but it helped his focus.
He looked at the six rare bats.
"Stand back," he ordered.
They obeyed instantly, moving to the edges of the room, wings folding.
Bat Bat climbed onto the bed again, eyes shining.
"Summon," it whispered excitedly. "Summon bat people."
Sekhmet ignored the commentary. He closed his eyes. He poured chaos energy into the bowl.
Not a little. A lot.
He pushed his energy like a flood, letting the system’s summoning pathway drink it. His room’s air tightened as if the space itself was being pulled.
The lantern flame flickered violently.
Fzz... fzz... fzz...
The blood in the bowl rose. Not like a thread. Not like a serpent. Like a storm.
Shhhhhh—!
The drop expanded, spreading into swirling red mist, then condensing into flesh.
Wings formed first — large, leathery, bat wings that unfolded with a soft, wet sound.
Shlk...
Then legs, slender but strong, feet touching the floor with gentle balance.
Tap.
Then a torso — human-shaped, feminine, smooth skin with a faint warm tone, but with subtle bat-like traits at the edges, as if her blood remembered another form.
Then arms.
Hands.
Fingers.
Then hair — dark, long, spilling down her back.
Then eyes.
When her eyes opened, Sekhmet felt the room shift. They were not glowing. They were simply alive.
Sharp.
Intelligent.
Her mouth opened slightly as she took her first breath.
Inhale...
Her wings spread fully.
Flap... flap...
She stood there. Half bat. Half human. Fully real.
She looked about eighteen, like the system’s reading would later confirm, but she carried herself like someone older — like a being born from blood did not understand childhood.
She immediately lowered herself to one knee. Her wings folded neatly. Her voice was clear, human, smooth.
"My master," she said.
Bat Bat’s jaw dropped.
"Talk... big talk," Bat Bat whispered.
Sekhmet stared at the summon, his mind racing. His blood eyes flickered. Information appeared.
[Blood Summon: Harpy Bat.
Age: 18
Overall Battle Power: 6500+
Traits: High intelligence, flight mastery, claw and bite combat specialization, high growth ceiling.
Status: Bound to Host.]
Sekhmet’s breath caught slightly.
"Six thousand five hundred," he thought. "From one drop."
His upgraded Blood Summon had made a difference. The harpy bat lifted her head, gaze steady and respectful.
"I have no name," she said softly. "Please grant me one, master."
Sekhmet blinked. He had expected obedience. He had expected silence. He had not expected the weight of naming.
Naming meant responsibility. Naming meant acknowledging she was more than a tool.
Bat Bat whispered eagerly, "Name. Name. Name."
Sekhmet’s gaze stayed on the kneeling harpy bat. Her face was beautiful, but not soft. There was sharpness in her features. A hint of predation. Her wings were large enough to wrap around herself like a cloak.
She looked like someone who could kill and still bow politely afterward.
Sekhmet’s mind searched quickly. He did not want a long name. He wanted something simple to remember. Something that matches her appearance.
Something that could be spoken in battle. Something that sounded like night. Something that sounded like wings.
He spoke aloud. "Auri," he said. "Your name will be Auri."
The word fell into the room like a small stone into still water. The harpy bat’s eyes widened slightly. Then she smiled faintly, respectful and sincere.
"Auri," she repeated. "Thank you, master."
Bat Bat blinked.
"Auri," Bat Bat repeated too, tasting the word like candy. Then it nodded. "Good name."
Sekhmet exhaled slowly, feeling something strange in his chest.
Not warmth.
Not yet.
But a crack in his loneliness.
He looked at Auri. "Stand," he ordered.
Auri rose smoothly. Her wings folded behind her like disciplined soldiers.
"Yes, master," she said.