Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 239: Please help us, save the faeries

His system absorbed what it could from the alien hunters, processing their essence into usable mana, integrating knowledge about their biology and capabilities. The information would be useful if he encountered more of them.

And he suspected he would. The pack leader had escaped. It would report back to whatever larger organization these Scavenetores belonged to. Eventually, there would be consequences for this slaughter.

He rejected the integration as he didn’t want to have implications.

Jorghan walked toward where Nami held the sobbing child, ready to offer comfort and assurance that she was safe now.

He was halfway across the clearing when his senses screamed a warning.

Something was flying toward them, fast and agile, moving with purpose through the forest canopy.

Not a ship, something smaller, he could tell that.

Biological rather than technological, if the essence signature he detected was accurate.

Jorghan raised his hand and manifested a blood essence barrier, catching whatever was approaching before it could reach Nami and Kleela.

The figure slammed into his barrier with a force that would have injured a normal being. It rebounded, flipped in midair with remarkable agility, and landed in a crouch ten feet from Jorghan.

Wings.

That was the first thing Jorghan registered. Transparent wings that caught light in rainbow patterns that seemed to shift between solid and ethereal depending on the angle. They extended from the figure’s back, maybe seven feet in span, moving with the delicate precision of insect anatomy despite clearly being part of a larger body.

The figure stood slowly, revealing itself fully.

Male faery.

Young, probably early twenties by apparent age, though with faeries, actual age was impossible to determine by appearance alone. He had the same pale green skin as Kleela, the same elongated drooping ears, and the same enormous eyes, though his were golden rather than green.

His hair was darker than Kleela’s, almost black with green highlights, falling to his shoulders in a style that suggested he’d been traveling rough for some time. He wore clothing similar to Kleela’s plant-fiber construction but more elaborate, decorated with patterns that might have been royal insignia or simply personal preference.

And his expression showed desperate hope mixed with defensive aggression, as if he wanted to trust these strangers but had learned through hard experience not to.

Before Jorghan could speak, Kleela’s voice rang out.

“PECAH!”

The child tore free from Nami’s arms and ran toward the male faery with speed that suggested her injuries weren’t as severe as they’d appeared.

She threw herself at him, and he caught her, his wings wrapping around them both in a protective embrace that was clearly instinctive.

“Kleela,” the male faery, Pecah, said, his voice rough with emotion.

“You’re alive. You’re actually alive. I’ve been searching for months. I saw the Scavenetores ship and was worried to death.

Seeing him, something snapped in her mind, and she remembered everything. Kleela recognized the male faery.

Kleela sobbed into his chest, words pouring out in a rush.

“They found me in the ruins! They took me and hurt me and said they were going to sell me! But Jorghan saved me! He killed them all! He and Nami took care of me for a whole month, and they’re my family now!”

Pecah’s golden eyes fixed on Jorghan with new assessment, seeing him not as a threat but as someone who’d apparently protected his sister. The defensive aggression faded slightly, replaced by wary gratitude.

“You saved her,” Pecah said.

Not a question, but a statement requiring confirmation.

“We did,” Nami replied, moving to stand beside Jorghan.

“We found Kleela living alone in the Colloniel ruins a month ago. She’s been with us since, under our protection. We didn’t know she had family searching for her.”

Pecah’s expression became pained.

“That’s because I thought she was dead. We all did. When the Scavenetores attacked our kingdom, when we lost the war, I saw Kleela’s transport ship go down. I spent weeks searching the crash site but never found her body.

Eventually, I assumed…”

He trailed off, clearly not wanting to finish that sentence.

He looked down at his sister, his wings trembling slightly with emotion.

“But you survived.

You found shelter and people who protected you.

You’re alive.”

*

Kleela pulled back from her brother’s embrace, turning to look at Jorghan and Nami.

“I need to explain something. About who I am. About why the Scavenetores wanted me specifically.”

As her memories returned, she turned to Jorghan and Nami and felt compelled to share her story with them.

She took a deep breath, her drooping ears straightening slightly with something that might have been pride or shame.

“I’m not just a random faery child. I’m Princess Kleela of the Faelindore Kingdom. Third daughter of Queen Amalthea. My family ruled the largest faery civilization in this realm before…”

“Before the war,” Pecah finished quietly.

“Before the Scavenetores decided our kingdom was full of potential for them. The predatory hunters set their eyes on us.”

He moved to stand protectively beside Kleela, his stance defensive despite being surrounded by corpses and clearly outmatched if Jorghan decided to attack.

“The war lasted three years. We fought hard, using every advantage our magic and technology could provide. But we were outnumbered, gradually worn down through attrition.”

“When it became clear we’d lose,” Pecah continued, “our mother made desperate decisions. She evacuated the youngest royals—Kleela, sending her away in stealth ships with guards sworn to protect them. The plan was to hide them until the war ended, then reclaim the kingdom or at least ensure the royal bloodline survived.”

Kleela’s voice was quiet, filled with memories she’d tried to suppress.

“But our ship was attacked. The guards died protecting me. The ship crashed somewhere I don’t remember. And when I woke up, I was alone in ruins that felt safe somehow. I stayed there, tending the flowers, surviving. I forgot who I was, where I’d come from. Just remembered I needed to hide.”

Pecah’s expression showed pain at imagining what his sister had endured.

“The Faelindore Kingdom fell completely six months ago. Our father is dead, executed by the Scavenetore pack leader as a trophy kill. The entire civilization we knew is destroyed, scattered, with survivors hiding across the realm.”

He looked at Jorghan with newfound intensity.

“When I heard rumors that a faery child is living in the Colloniel ruins, I knew it had to be Kleela. I came here looking for her and found that she was taken by those scavenetores.”

“I was afraid that I couldn’t save her.”

“You don’t need to anymore,” Nami said gently.

“She’s safe. The hunters are dead. The pack leader fled. Kleela is under Sol’vur protection now.”

Kleela turned away from her brother, moved toward Jorghan, and did something that broke his carefully maintained emotional control.

She knelt.

A royal princess, however young and traumatized, knelt before him with her hands clasped together in the traditional begging posture.

“Please,” Kleela whispered, tears streaming down her face.

“Please help my people. The Scavenetores are still hunting us. They’re finding survivors, capturing them, selling them because we’re rare and valuable now. Please, Jorghan. You’re so strong. You killed all those hunters like it was easy.

Please help the faeries. Please save whoever’s left.”

Nami knelt beside Kleela, her hand on the child’s shoulder but her golden eyes fixed on Jorghan. “She’s right. We can’t just let an entire species be hunted to extinction. If there are survivors hiding, if the Scavenetores are actively pursuing them, we should help. The thirteen clans have always revered faeries. This is our chance to prove that reverence means something beyond just words.”

Jorghan looked at Kleela kneeling before him, at Nami supporting her plea, and at Pecah standing with desperate hope poorly hidden behind a defensive posture.

He thought about everything this would entail. Hunting down Scavenetore groups across multiple territories. Finding scattered faery survivors and offering them protection. Potentially making permanent enemies of an alien species with technology that exceeded elven capabilities.

All of it would be costly, dangerous, and distracting from the Sol’vur reconstruction efforts.

But he also thought about Kleela tending red lilies alone for years, convinced she had to be useful to justify her existence. About her joy when she’d discovered family again, when she’d been given safety and care without conditions.

About what it meant to actually protect what you claimed to value.

“Stand up,” Jorghan said quietly.

“Both of you. Royalty doesn’t kneel to anyone, even when asking for help.”

Kleela stood slowly, hope and fear warring in her enormous green eyes.

Jorghan met her gaze directly.

“I’ll help. We’ll find the faery survivors, eliminate the Scavenetore hunters pursuing them, and offer protection to anyone who needs it.”

Kleela’s face transformed with joy so pure it hurt to witness. She threw herself at Jorghan, her small arms wrapping around his waist, her voice muffled against his chest as she thanked him repeatedly.

Pecah’s wings fluttered with visible relief.

“You mean it? You’ll actually help us? Not just Kleela, but the scattered survivors?”

“I mean it,” Jorghan confirmed.