Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 112: Herd of chimaeras

Whisperingtris Forest—Dawn

It took three days for the pieces to fall into place. The Whisperingtris was a vast wilderness that was close to the desert.

The transition from desert to forest was abrupt and jarring.

One moment, they were walking across sand and rock under an open sky; the next, they were stepping into shadows cast by trees so old and massive that their trunks could have housed entire families.

The Whisperingtris Forest earned its name from the constant susurration of leaves—even when no wind blew, the forest seemed to whisper secrets in languages no one could quite decipher.

Jorghan moved at the front of their hunting party, his senses extended outward through his blood magic, feeling for the life signatures of potential prey.

Behind him came the others in a loose formation—Swana and Sik’ra flanking the group with the practised ease of warriors who’d hunted together since childhood, while Sarhita and Scarlett brought up the rear, the former alert and confident, the latter still adjusting to the reality of hunting actual dangerous creatures.

She had grown accustomed to this world and slowly adapted to the lifestyle in the desert. Jorghan may have been rough with her, but she thought it was better here than in the prison back at home.

”The deer herds usually graze near the forest’s edge,” Sarhita said quietly, her liquid gold eyes scanning the underbrush.

”They come out of the deep woods at dawn to feed on the grass that grows where desert meets forest.”

”Assuming the larger predators haven’t gotten to them first,” Sik’ra added.

He carried a spear that seemed almost comically small in his massive hands, though Jorghan knew from experience that his cousin could throw it with enough force to punch through stone.

Even without mana, Sik’ra was profoundly stronger than an average elf.

Swana moved with barely a sound despite her tall frame, her own weapon—a curved blade similar to what El’ran had wielded—held ready but not aggressively.

”The Whisperingtris isn’t like normal forests. The trees here are old. Older than the clans, older than the settlements. They remember things. Sometimes they share what they remember.”

”Trees can’t remember things,” Scarlett said skeptically, though her voice was hushed. Something about the forest demanded quiet, as if speaking too loudly would be disrespectful.

”These can,” Swana replied.

”The Whisperingtris is one of the ancient groves. Before the clans, before civilization, when magic was wilder and less controlled, forests like this grew across the entire continent. Most were cut down or burned or simply died as the world changed. But this one survived. And it’s... aware. In ways, normal forests aren’t.”

Scarlett pursed her lip,s observing the information.

They moved deeper, following game trails that wound between trees with trunks easily twenty feet in diameter. The canopy overhead was so dense that little direct sunlight penetrated, creating a permanent twilight atmosphere. Luminescent moss grew on many of the tree trunks, providing just enough light to navigate by.

Jorghan felt his [Mana Devouring Attribute] responding to the environment, pulling in ambient energy that felt different from the desert’s harsh, direct power. The forest’s magic was older, deeper, and more patient.

It didn’t rush or burn—it simply existed, accumulating over centuries into something vast and incomprehensible.

[Environmental Analysis: High magical saturation]

[Mana Reserves: 694% and rising]

[Warning: Unfamiliar energy signatures detected]

[Recommendation: Heightened awareness - this location is not neutral territory]

”Something feels wrong,” Jorghan said quietly, stopping in a small clearing where mushrooms the size of dinner plates grew in perfect circles.

”Wrong how?” Sik’ra moved up beside him, his own senses extended outward.

”I don’t know. Just... wrong. Like we’re being watched, but not by anything I can identify.”

He turned slowly, scanning the forest in all directions.

”The life signatures here are strange. Overlapping, interconnected in ways that don’t make sense for individual creatures.”

”The forest itself,” Swana said.

”You’re sensing the forest’s collective consciousness. It’s not dangerous unless you—”

A roar shattered the morning stillness, so loud and primal that it seemed to shake the very trees. Birds erupted from the canopy in panicked flocks, their calls adding to the chaos.

”Move!” Jorghan shouted, but it was already too late.

The beast that burst from the underbrush was unlike anything he’d seen in this world. It stood perhaps twelve feet tall at the shoulder, with a body that seemed to be an impossible fusion of multiple creatures.

The head was vaguely ursine but far too large, with jaws that could have swallowed a man whole. Its body was covered in scales and fur in alternating patches, as if nature couldn’t decide what it should be. Four legs ended in claws that tore through the forest floor like it was paper, and a tail covered in bony protrusions lashed behind it with enough force to shatter smaller trees.

A chimaera. Not a natural creature but something created through magical experimentation or perhaps spontaneous mutation in high-mana environments.

It charged directly at their group with frightening speed for something so massive.

Jorghan reacted instantly, manifesting blood constructs and hurling them at the creature’s face, trying to blind it or at least slow its charge. The constructs hit and exploded, spattering the chimaera with crystallized blood that should have penetrated its eyes.

The creature didn’t even slow down.

It shook its head, dislodging the blood constructs, and continued its charge.

”Scatter!” Swana yelled, diving to the right.

Sik’ra went left, his spear already in throwing position.

Sarhita grabbed Scarlett and pulled her backwards, both of them stumbling over roots in their haste to avoid being trampled.

The chimaera’s charge took it through the space where their group had been standing, its momentum carrying it past them. It slid to a stop with shocking agility for something its size, claws digging furrows in the ground as it arrested its forward motion.

Then it roared again, and this time the roar was answered.

From multiple directions, more shapes emerged from the forest.

Smaller than the first creature but no less dangerous—wolf-like things with too many legs, serpents as thick as tree trunks with multiple heads, and birds with wingspans that blocked out what little light penetrated the canopy.

A herd.

A hunting party of chimaeras, all converging on their position with coordinated precision.

”This is wrong!” Jorghan shouted over the cacophony of roars and screams.

”Chimaeras don’t hunt in groups! They’re territorial; they kill each other on sight!”

”Tell them that!” Sik’ra replied, his spear already thrown, impaling one of the wolf-things through its center mass. The creature went down, but its companions simply flowed around it, barely acknowledging its death.

The battle became chaos.

Swana engaged the massive bear-chimaera, her blade moving in patterns that created walls of cutting force, keeping the creature at bay through sheer skill and power. But she was being forced backwards, the creature’s raw strength overwhelming even her considerable abilities.

Sik’ra fought three of the wolf-things simultaneously, his hands now empty of the spear.

He struck with palm strikes that detonated on impact, blasting the creatures backwards, but they kept coming, kept pressing, forcing him to give ground.

Sarhita had manifested her own weapons—twin daggers of crystallized water that moved like extensions of her arms—and was protecting Scarlett while engaging two of the serpent-chimaeras. But the creatures’ multiple heads made them unpredictable, attacking from angles that shouldn’t have been possible.

And Jorghan stood in the centre of the chaos, blood magic erupting from his body in waves, creating barriers and weapons and attacks in rapid succession. He’d already killed four of the creatures, his sorcery far exceeding what they could handle, but there were so many.

A wolf-thing lunged at him from his blind spot.

He didn’t turn, just manifested blood-spikes from his back that impaled the creature mid-leap. It died without a sound, but three more took its place immediately.

”They’re herding us!” Jorghan realized, his tactical mind cutting through the chaos.

”They’re not trying to kill us—they’re separating us, pushing us apart!”

As if to confirm his observation, the creatures intensified their attacks, focusing their efforts on driving wedges between the group members.

Swana was forced further right by the massive bear-chimaera’s relentless assault. Sik’ra and Sarhita were being pushed in opposite directions by coordinated attacks that gave them no choice but to retreat or be overwhelmed.

”Stay together!” Jorghan shouted, but it was too late.

A massive serpent-chimaera—this one easily forty feet long—erupted from the undergrowth between Sarhita and the rest of the group. Its multiple heads struck in different directions simultaneously, creating a living wall that forced Sarhita and Scarlett to scramble backwards to avoid being bitten.

On the other side, a coordinated push by four wolf-things drove Swana into denser forest, her form disappearing behind massive tree trunks as she was forced to engage them away from the main battle.

”Sik’ra!” Jorghan called out, manifesting a massive blood construct in the shape of a wall, trying to create a barrier that would allow them to regroup.

”Fall back to my position!”