Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 137: Half breeds of the empire

But it was exhausting.

The Haelves were learning his patterns, adapting their approach.

And they protected each other with the same coordination they used to attack.

When Jorghan tried to isolate one for a killing blow, others would intervene, covering their companion’s retreat, forcing him to defend rather than press the advantage.

They’re too synchronized, Jorghan thought, parrying a strike that would have caved in his ribs if it had connected.

I need to break their formation and scatter them.

He reached for his mana reserves; not blood magic this time, but elemental control that he had always possessed alongside his bloodline abilities.

His palms glowed with red sigils as he activated his magic, and he swiftly pointed his palms towards the sand.

The sand responded.

The desert floor beneath them began to shift, grains rising into the air in response to his will. Not gently, but violently, as if the ground itself were rejecting their presence. The sand swirled faster, gathering momentum, becoming a whirling barrier that obscured vision.

The Haelves reacted immediately, recognizing the danger of fighting blind. They broke formation, leaping back in coordinated retreat, attempting to escape the growing sandstorm before it could fully envelop them.

Most made it.

Five didn’t.

They hesitated a fraction too long, perhaps overconfident in their enhanced durability, perhaps simply caught off-guard by the sudden environmental shift.

The sandstorm engulfed them, and in that moment when they were isolated from their companions, temporarily blinded and disoriented, Jorghan struck.

He moved through the sand as if it wasn’t there, his own magic letting him navigate what would have been impenetrable to others. His enhanced vision pierced the swirling grains, locking onto the five isolated targets.

The first Haelve died without knowing Jorghan was there.

One moment, it was attempting to orient itself in the storm; the next, Jorghan’s blood-enhanced fist punched through its chest from behind, piercing engineered organs that should have been protected by reinforced bone structure. He withdrew his arm, and the Haelve collapsed, dead before it hit the ground.

The second saw him coming, but couldn’t react fast enough.

Jorghan’s hand shot out, blood essence manifesting as crystallized spears that erupted from his palm, impaling the Haelve through multiple vital points simultaneously. The creature tried to scream, but blood filled its lungs, drowning the sound.

The third managed to raise its arms in defense, enhanced reflexes finally catching up to the threat.

It didn’t matter.

Jorghan’s strike shattered both forearms, the bones—reinforced beyond normal human capacity—breaking like dry wood under the force of his attack. A follow-up blow to the throat crushed its windpipe, and it fell choking, clawing uselessly at its ruined neck.

The fourth actually landed a hit, its fist connecting with Jorghan’s jaw hard enough to snap his head to the side. Pain flared, sharp and clarifying, and Jorghan smiled through bloodied teeth. He grabbed the Haelve’s extended arm with both hands and simply tore it off at the shoulder, enhanced strength overcoming engineered durability through sheer savage application of force. The Haelve’s scream was cut short when Jorghan used its own severed limb as a club, crushing its skull with a single overhead swing.

The fifth tried to run, finally recognizing that staying in the storm meant death. It almost made it to the edge of the swirling sand before blood essence wrapped around its legs, yanking it backward. It fell hard, and before it could recover, Jorghan was there. He didn’t use finesse or technique—just raw power, his hands closing around the Haelve’s head and twisting until the reinforced spine gave way with a sound like breaking timber.

The sandstorm dissipated as quickly as it had formed, grains falling back to the surface, revealing the carnage.

Five Haelves dead in less than thirty seconds.

The remaining thirty-five stood in a wider circle now, their perfect coordination momentarily shattered by the sudden, brutal loss of their companions.

But they were regrouping, reassessing, and adapting.

These weren’t mindless beasts that would break and run after taking casualties. They were weapons, programmed for a purpose, and fear wasn’t part of their design.

But wariness was.

Jorghan could see it in how they positioned themselves now—farther back, defensive stances rather than aggressive ones, watching him with enhanced senses that catalogued every detail of his movements, his breathing, and his power expenditure.

They were learning.

Calculating his strength and movements.

Trying to determine the most efficient way to kill him without losing more of their number.

”Smart,” Jorghan said, his voice carrying across the space between them.

”You’re learning that I’m not easy prey. That’s good. It means you might survive a little longer.”

Behind him, on the elf side, they were watching with amazement, seeing Jorghan fight. He was like a phantom on the battlefield; his movements were hard to track, and only a bunch of them could see where he moved. The sandstorm he used to kill those Haelves surprised them; he was decisive and accurate.

Thel’endra’s surprise had no end. Jorghan was giving her one after the other.

Sigora looked at her with a smug face as she felt proud seeing her nephew.

Back at the field, Jorghan wiped blood from his mouth—his own blood, from the hit he’d taken. The wound was already healing, blood essence knitting tissue back together at visible speed, but the damage had been real. These Haelves hit hard enough to hurt him, even in his transformed state.

I need to be smarter about this, he thought.

They adapt too quickly to the same tactics. I need to keep changing approaches, keep them reactive instead of proactive.

The bloodline stirred within him, responding to his need, offering possibilities he hadn’t known existed.

[Bloodline Ability: Blood Manipulation - Advanced Telekinesis]

[Crimson Dominion: Manipulate blood essence at range without direct contact]

[Warning: Increased essence consumption]

Jorghan’s grin widened as understanding flooded through him.

Not just manifesting blood or using it as armor—but true telekinetic control, the ability to move and shape essence at a distance, to weaponize it without physical contact.

The Haelves charged again, their brief hesitation overcome by tactical programming.

This time they came in waves, three at a time in staggered sequence, ensuring that even if he countered one wave, another would be right behind it.

Jorghan raised his hand, and blood essence erupted from the ground around the first wave. Not barriers this time, but animated constructs, tendrils that moved with predatory intelligence, wrapping around Haelve’s legs and arms, constricting with force that would have crushed normal bone.

The Haelves tore free; their enhanced strength was sufficient, but it bought precious seconds. Seconds, which Jorghan used to launch himself forward, meeting the second wave head-on.

His fist caught the lead Haelve in the solar plexus, the blow enhanced not just by strength but by blood essence that invaded the creature’s body through the point of impact. The Haelve’s eyes went wide as its own blood began to rebel, vessels rupturing from the inside, organs hemorrhaging.

It collapsed, drowning in its own blood.

The other two in the wave attacked from opposite sides—coordinated strikes designed to crush him between their combined force.

Jorghan dropped low, letting their fists meet above his head with an impact that created a localized shockwave.

While they were momentarily overextended, he swept his leg around in a circle, blood essence coating his limb like a blade. The strike cut through both Haelves’ legs at the knee, engineered bone and muscle parting under the enhanced edge.

They fell, and he finished them with brutal force, fists to the back of their skulls, crushing through reinforced craniums to destroy the enhanced brains beneath.

Eight dead now.

The third wave reached him, but they hesitated fractionally—seeing what he’d done to their companions, recalculating their approach.

That hesitation was fatal.

Jorghan’s telekinetic control manifested fully, blood essence responding to his will across dozens of yards. Crimson tendrils erupted from the sand around the third wave, not binding them but piercing them, spears of crystallized blood essence that shot upward with speed that exceeded even Haelve reflexes.

Two died instantly, impaled through multiple vital points.

The third managed to dodge, his enhanced agility letting him avoid the worst of the attack, but a tendril caught his arm, tearing through muscle and severing nerves.

Jorghan closed the distance before he could retreat, his movements now incorporating sand manipulation alongside blood magic. The ground beneath the injured Haelve became unstable, sand shifting into quicksand that pulled at its feet while blood tendrils wrapped around its torso.

He tried to break free, his enhanced muscles straining against the dual restraint.

It wasn’t enough.

Jorghan’s hand closed around the throat, and he channeled blood essence directly into the Haelve’s body. The creature convulsed as his own blood turned against it, every vessel expanding beyond capacity, every organ swelling with fluid that had nowhere to go.

That haelve died messily, blood leaking from every orifice as his body tore itself apart from the inside.

Eleven dead.

Twenty-nine remaining.