Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 89: Controlled Rage

Sarhita looked at him, at the mansion where more soldiers were emerging, and at the blood that dripped from his fingers. Her eyes searched his face, looking for the man she’d come to care for beneath the monster he was displaying.

”Please,” he said quietly, and something in that single word—some vulnerability, some plea for trust—made her decision.

”Okay,” she said.

”Okay, I’m coming.”

She entered the ship with Scarlett following close behind, the two women eyeing each other warily as they strapped into acceleration couches.

Though Scarlet was in awe at the height and color of the elf she was seeing.

Jamie burst from the mansion, blood chains broken through sheer force of will and desperation. Lukas limped behind him, one leg dragging where Jorghan’s restraints had damaged muscle and tendon.

”Grace!” Jamie roared.

”You son of a bitch, give her back!”

Reinforcements were arriving now—more security contractors, responding to the emergency calls. They took up positions around the garden, creating a perimeter, weapons trained on the ship.

But they didn’t fire, not yet, waiting for clear orders, for understanding of what they were facing.

”Stand down!” someone was shouting.

”All units, hold fire! We have civilians in the—”

The night sky split open with the roar of engines.

Six aircraft descended in formation, sleek military vehicles marked with the insignia of the IPF—Interplanetary Force, Earth’s response to the dimensional crisis.

They were equipped with weapons designed to fight beings from other worlds, to counter threats that conventional military hardware couldn’t handle.

Spotlights bathed the garden in harsh white light.

A voice boomed from speakers on the lead aircraft, magnified to a deafening volume.

”ATTENTION, OUTSIDERS. YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY INTERPLANETARY FORCE MILITARY UNITS. POWER DOWN ANY ABILITIES AND SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN A LETHAL RESPONSE.”

Jorghan looked up at the aircraft, at the missiles and energy weapons pointed at him, and smiled.

[Warning: Multiple high-level threats detected]

[Bloodborne Rage: 45% activation threshold]

[Bloodline Ability Available: Bloodveil Dominion]

[Authorize activation? Y/N]

He authorized it without hesitation.

The blood that had been scattered across the garden—from the dead guards, from the dying soldiers inside the mansion, from a dozen sources—rose into the air like a crimson tide.

It flowed toward Jorghan, responding to his will, consolidating into a massive sphere that hovered above him like a miniature red sun.

[BLOODVEIL DOMINION—CRIMSON TIDE OF NEEDLES]

The sphere exploded outward into thousands of projectiles—needle-shaped and designed for maximum lethality. They moved with impossible speed and precision, each projectile tracking its target with guided accuracy.

The IPF aircraft tried to evade, their pilots responding with enhanced reflexes and advanced defensive systems.

It didn’t matter.

The blood weapons curved mid-flight, adjusted trajectories, and pursued with single-minded determination.

The first aircraft went down when a cluster of blood-bullets punched through its engine, turning the propulsion system into shrapnel that tore through the fuselage. It spun out of control, crashing into the mansion’s east wing with an explosion that lit up the night.

The second aircraft deployed countermeasures—chaff, flares, and electronic warfare packages designed to confuse tracking systems.

But Bloodveil Dominion didn’t use electronics or conventional targeting.

It tracked life force, following the blood flowing through the pilots’ veins. Blood-needles, thin as hair and hard as steel, penetrated the cockpit canopy and found their targets with precision.

The pilots died instantly, their brains pierced by crystallized blood that moved too fast to dodge or block.

The aircraft went into automated emergency landing protocols, but without human guidance it crashed into the garden perimeter, tearing through security personnel who couldn’t scatter fast enough.

The third and fourth aircraft tried to retreat, their pilots recognizing a threat beyond their capacity to handle.

Jorghan wouldn’t let them.

He gestured, and blood-chains—massive versions of what he’d used on Jamie—shot upward and wrapped around the vehicles’ fuselages. He pulled, and the aircraft were dragged from the sky like fish on hooks.

They hit the ground with shattering force, metal crumpling, systems failing, and personnel inside dying from impact trauma.

Jorghan’s blood-needles finished any survivors, methodically executing everyone in the wreckage with efficient brutality.

The fifth aircraft managed to fire before being destroyed—a missile streaked toward Jorghan, a warhead designed to counter otherworldly threats, with a payload containing compressed exotic particles that should have disrupted his connection to his abilities.

Jorghan raised one hand, and a wall of blood two feet thick materialized between him and the incoming weapon. The missile hit and detonated, the explosion washing over the blood barrier with tremendous force. The blood evaporated from the heat, but there was always more—Jorghan pulled moisture from the air, from the ground, and from the dying bodies scattered around the garden, converting it all into ammunition for his dominion.

A blood-spear, thick as a telephone pole, shot upward and impaled the fifth aircraft through its center mass. The vehicle exploded, raining burning debris across the entire property.

The sixth and final aircraft was already trying to flee, its pilot broadcasting frantic emergency calls for backup, for evacuation, for anything that could stop the monster below.

Jorghan let it get almost out of visual range, letting the pilot think he might actually escape.

Then he clenched his fist, and the pilot’s blood turned solid inside his veins.

The man died instantly, every blood vessel in his body rupturing simultaneously, hemorrhaging internally until he was more corpse than person.

The aircraft, now pilotless, entered an uncontrolled descent and crashed somewhere in the distance, the explosion a distant bloom of orange light against the dark sky.

Silence crashed down over the garden, broken only by the crackling of fires and the groaning of dying men.

Jorghan stood in the center of the carnage, blood dripping from his hands and floating in the air around him like a crimson crown. His eyes still glowed with red light, the Bloodveil Dominion still active, ready to destroy anything else that threatened him.

Jamie knelt near what remained of the mansion’s entrance; Lukas collapsed beside him.

The boy’s leg was pinned to the ground by a blood-needle as thick as a finger, driven completely through his thigh and deep into the earth below. He wasn’t screaming anymore—shock had set in, his face pale and his breathing shallow.