Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 221: Feelings of the red Elf

The Nuweʼrak Quarters

Jorghan made his way through the settlement as afternoon shadows lengthened across the sand. The Nuweʼrak clan occupied the larger section of Brownhill Dunes, their structures built with the distinctive architectural style that favored curved walls and domed roofs, practical for desert conditions, aesthetically pleasing despite their functionality.

Heʼd been avoiding this conversation for days, but Sigora had been right when sheʼd pointed out that unresolved tensions would poison the clan integration efforts.

Sarhita needed to be addressed, her anger acknowledged, and the conflict between them either resolved or at least managed to a point where it wouldnʼt undermine Solʼvurʼs cohesion.

He hadnʼt talked to her since the attack on the settlement. It had been weighing on his mind, too. He was aware of what she had to do, but couldnʼt take in the fact that she had just given up on Scarlett.

Maybe he was expecting too much of them.

Not everybody had a system like him to fight anyone.

Fear of life—it can make anybody do anything.

The main Nuweʼrak dwelling was larger than most, reflecting the clanʼs status within the settlement. Jorghan approached the entrance and knocked firmly on the wooden door frame.

A voice called from inside.

”Enter.”

He stepped into the interior, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. The main chamber was well-appointed with comfortable furniture, weapons displayed on walls, and maps and documents showing the clanʼs integration planning. And standing near the center of the room were two figures who turned to face him as he entered.

Sarhita stood with her arms crossed, her eight-foot frame radiating hostility that was barely contained. Her skin was deep red—not the pale crimson of his transformed state, but a rich burgundy that marked her as pure Nuweʼrak bloodline. Her black hair was pulled back in a warriorʼs braid, and her gold eyes blazed with fury that had been simmering since his return from Earth.

Beside her stood Katisana, also eight feet tall, her skin a lighter shade of red that suggested mixed heritage somewhere in her ancestry. She was older, with the bearing of someone whoʼd lived through enough conflict to develop both wisdom and cynicism. Her expression was more controlled than Sarhitaʼs, but her body language suggested she wasnʼt particularly happy to see him either.

”Lord Solʼvur,” Sarhita said, her tone dripping with contempt that turned his title into an insult.

Jorghan raised an eyebrow, as it was the first time hearing it.

”How generous of you to finally grace us with your presence. I was beginning to think youʼd just ignore us completely while planning your grand dynasty with more... compliant partners.”

He sighed, nodding his head.

Jorghan closed the door behind him, not rising to the bait.

”Sarhita. Katisana. We need to talk.”

”Oh, NOW you want to talk,” Sarhita snapped.

”After ignoring me for days, after announcing to the entire settlement that youʼre taking multiple partners without even discussing it with those of us whoʼve been—” She cut herself off, clearly not wanting to finish that sentence.

”Fucking you?” Jorghan supplied bluntly.

”Because we both know thatʼs what you mean. Youʼre angry I didnʼt consult you before making decisions about partnerships, as if our occasional encounters gave you veto power over my clan planning.”

Sarhitaʼs face flushed darker, her anger intensifying.

”It wasnʼt ʼoccasional.ʼ Donʼt diminish what we had just because itʼs now inconvenient for your political maneuvering.”

”What we had,” Jorghan replied coldly, ”was physical compatibility and mutual convenience. You wanted someone powerful who wouldnʼt bore you. I wanted an uncomplicated release. Neither of us pretended it was more than that.”

”You arrogant bastard,” Sarhita hissed, taking a step forward. Her essence manifested around her hands—red energy that marked her own bloodline abilities.

”You think you can just use people and discard them when theyʼre no longer useful? Youʼre exactly like your father—powerful but incapable of actually valuing anyone beyond their utility to you.”

Jorghan squinted.

”Yes, I know about your father. I know all about him.”

”Donʼt compare me to Serʼgu,” Jorghan said, his voice becoming dangerous.

”My father destroyed entire clans out of emotional rage. I make calculated decisions about what strengthens the Solʼvur. Thereʼs a difference.”

”Is there?”

Katisana interjected, speaking for the first time. Her voice was calmer than Sarhitaʼs but carried an edge of disappointment.

”Because from where Iʼm standing, youʼre treating partnerships the same way your father treated clan alliances, as tools to be leveraged for power rather than relationships with actual people.”

Jorghan turned his attention to her.

”Youʼre angry too. Why? Weʼve had maybe three encounters total, all of them explicitly casual. You knew I wasnʼt offering commitment.”

”Iʼm not angry that youʼre not offering commitment,” Katisana replied.

”Iʼm angry youʼre treating this like a breeding program. ʼStrategic partnerships.ʼ ʼGenetic diversity.ʼ ʼPolitical connections.ʼ Those are clinical terms for what should be intimate relationships. Youʼre reducing women to their bloodlines and clan affiliations rather than seeing them as actual people.”

”Thatʼs what CLANS DO,” Jorghan shot back, his patience fraying.

”Elven society has always prioritized bloodline strengthening and political alliances. Iʼm not inventing new standards. Iʼm following the same patterns every major clan uses. Madayanti, Yasoraga, and Naikini—they all approached me with the exact same logic. Combine bloodlines, strengthen offspring, and create political ties.

Why is it acceptable when they do it but manipulative when I do?”

”Because theyʼre honest about what they want,” Sarhita replied.

”Theyʼre not pretending thereʼs affection where there isnʼt. Theyʼre not making speeches about ʼbuilding futuresʼ while treating partners like interchangeable assets. Theyʼre upfront about transactional arrangements.”

She moved closer, her eight-foot frame forcing Jorghan to crane his neck to maintain eye contact.

”You want to know why Iʼm really angry? Itʼs not the multiple partners. Itʼs not even the lack of consultation. Itʼs that you stood there making grand announcements about the Solʼvur future without acknowledging that some of us were already part of your life. You erased us retroactively to make room for your dynasty planning.”

”I didnʼt erase anyone,” Jorghan protested.

”I ended casual arrangements that were never meant to be permanent and began planning appropriate partnerships for a clan head. Thatʼs not erasure—itʼs evolution.”

”Itʼs abandonment,” Sarhita corrected, and for the first time her anger cracked to reveal hurt underneath.