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Drip… Drip… Drip…
The sound followed Sekhmet even after he left the throne room behind, faint but persistent, like the dungeon had decided to move into his skull and start paying rent.
He walked through corridors that all looked the same. Rough stone. Old torch brackets. Damp air. The occasional smear of dried blood that made him tense, then annoyed when he realized it was probably from someone else and not an immediate threat.
Tap… Tap… Tap…
His footsteps echoed softly. He kept them light, careful, because the only thing worse than being lost was being lost loudly.
He turned left.
Then right.
Then left again.
Then he stopped, staring at a fork in the corridor that looked identical to the last fork he had passed.
Sekhmet's jaw tightened.
"I am trapped in a maze designed by idiots," he muttered. "This is a new low."
He tried to focus on the details. A crack in the wall. A torch that burned slightly lower. A scratch mark on the floor.
Everything looked the same.
Everything smelled the same.
Everything felt like the orcs had built this place by punching rocks into shape until the rocks surrendered.
Sekhmet rubbed his face, then remembered his hands were still stained.
He sighed.
"I will never emotionally recover from this smell," he whispered.
He kept moving, choosing paths based on instinct and the vague logic that bigger corridors usually led somewhere important.
Minutes passed.
Maybe more.
Time inside Null was already strange. Time in a dungeon was worse.
Then, without warning, the system chimed again.
[Ding!]
Sekhmet froze mid-step.
The sound did not come from the corridor. It came from inside his skull, crisp and clean, like someone tapping a bell directly against his thoughts.
A new notification unfolded.
[Ding! System notification- Gift Received.
Sender: Ant Lord Kai.
Title: God of Ant.]
Sekhmet stared at the words.
His breath stopped.
Then came out slowly, like he was afraid breathing too hard would trigger another divine delivery.
"Another gift," he whispered.
His eyes darted left and right, as if a god might be hiding behind a pillar, waiting to jump out and yell surprise.
"What," he said, voice rising. "What is going on?"
He took a slow step, then stopped again, because walking while panicking felt like a good way to fall into a trap.
"A god sent me a gift," he muttered. "Then another god sent me a gift."
His mind raced.
Void Lord John.
Now Ant Lord Kai.
Two gods.
Two gifts.
Two abyss artifacts involved.
His suspicion hardened into a grim guess.
He looked toward the darkness ahead as if it could answer.
"Let me guess," he said to the air, sarcasm sharp as a blade. "The Ant God also has an abyss-class artifact."
The system replied immediately.
[System: Confirmed. Ant Lord Kai possesses an Abyss-Class Artifact.
Gift includes: Marking skill fragment. Compatibility issue detected with Blood System framework.]
Sekhmet's brows lifted.
"Not compatible," he repeated. "Of course."
He stared at the notification again, then frowned.
"If it is not compatible, why send it."
[Ding! System notification- The System can modify gifted fragment into compatible blood-aligned skill. Modification will preserve maximum utility. Proceed with conversion.]
A prompt appeared.
[Option: Convert gifted skill fragment. Resulting Skill: Blood Puppet.
Proceed. Yes or No. ]
Sekhmet's mouth went dry.
Blood Puppet.
That name alone sounded like trouble.
And yet, trouble was already following him like a shadow. At least this trouble came with instructions.
Sekhmet forced himself to think carefully.
A skill that can mark followers.
A skill that creates loyalty.
In Null, loyalty was rarer than mercy. People pretended loyalty until the moment it cost them something, then they remembered betrayal was free.
If he could create servants who could not betray him…
That was power.
Not battle power.
Strategic power.
The kind that built kingdoms.
The kind gods feared.
Sekhmet's eyes narrowed.
"What will the modified skill do," he asked, because he had learned today that asking late meant bleeding early.
The system answered calmly.
[System notification- Converted Skill: Blood Puppet Lv1.
Function: Converts marked targets into blood-bound servants.
Condition: If target battle power is not more than two times host battle power, conversion can be forced. If target battle power exceeds limit, conversion requires willing acceptance. Blood Puppets cannot betray the host. Blood Puppets must follow host commands.]
Sekhmet stared.
His own battle power was fifteen hundred.
Two times that meant three thousand.
So for now, he could force weaker beings. But stronger beings would need to agree.
Still… even with restrictions, it was terrifyingly useful.
Sekhmet's thoughts sharpened.
I can use this in many ways.
Scouts.
Guards.
Workers.
Informants.
A loyal servant in a city of liars is worth more than a mountain of chaos stones.
He exhaled slowly.
"Do it," he said. "Modify it."
Ding!
[System notification- Conversion initiated. Estimated completion: 00:00:58]
Sekhmet blinked.
Less than a minute.
His mind immediately distrusted it, because nothing in Null was that efficient unless it was trying to kill you.
He waited anyway.
The corridor remained silent. Only dripping and distant torch crackle answered him.
Drip… Drip… Crackle…
Sekhmet's hands flexed. His shoulders tensed. His eyes watched the darkness ahead.
His coat pocket shifted slightly.
The tiny bat was still asleep, warm against his chest, unaware that its master was receiving divine gifts like unwanted mail.
Then the system chimed again.
[Ding! System Notification: Skill Registered.
Blood Puppet Lv1
Slots: 0/1
Note: Slots increase with skill level.]
Sekhmet's lips parted.
"Slots," he repeated.
So he could only maintain one puppet right now.
One.
It was limited, but even one loyal servant could change everything if chosen wisely.
He nodded slowly, storing the information away like a dagger tucked into a sleeve.
"I cannot test it now," he muttered. "Not unless I want to puppet a corpse, and even if I have standards."
He started walking again.
Tap… Tap…
Then another line of text appeared.
[System: Incoming Message from Ant Lord Kai.]
Sekhmet's throat tightened.
He braced himself.
The message unfolded, simple and heavy.
[Message: Become stronger as soon as possible. Ascend to godhood. Meet me at the Gods' Hall. I will wait.]
Sekhmet stopped walking.
The corridor seemed to hold its breath.