---
The second guard was tearing into a kobol with clawed fingers, ripping flesh with savage strength.
Scrrrk!
Blood sprayed.
The smell hit Sekhmet again, thick and hot.
The hunger stirred.
But Sekhmet forced himself to remain focused.
He watched the entrance.
The narrow mouth limited kobols to one or two at a time. That was the only reason the guards were still standing.
But kobols adapted quickly.
They began climbing the rock outside, trying to drop down through the opening from above, trying to overwhelm the chokepoint.
Sekhmet's eyes narrowed.
He had regained some function from drinking blood, but his chaos energy was still not full. He could not sustain long combat.
But he could do one decisive thing.
He could upgrade a skill.
A level-two skill would not just be a small improvement. In systems like this, level thresholds often opened entirely new functions.
He needed something that increased control.
Something that helped him fight crowds.
