Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 118: The Reckoning Approaches

IPMF Forward Operating Base - Interrogation Area

Lieutenant Csakan burst into the command tent where Major Carrow was reviewing tactical displays, his expression urgent enough that the Major immediately set aside his work.

”Sir, we have confirmation. The human female—Scarlett Moorne—she’s on the priority watch list.”

Carrow’s grey eyes sharpened.

”Explain.”

Csakan pulled up a holographic display from his tablet, showing surveillance footage from Earth. Grayhaven City. The Moorne mansion. The carnage was evident even in the compressed video format—bodies scattered across a garden, aircraft wreckage and fires burning across what had once been an estate.

”This footage is from that time,” Csakan continued.

”The incident that prompted our deployment to this sector. An unknown hostile with supernatural abilities attacked the Moorne estate, killed approximately forty security personnel, and destroyed six IPF aircraft using what our analysts classified as blood-based sorcery.”

Major and his crew had come searching for the people who attacked the Moorne mansion that day, and the reason for Major not knowing about Scarlett was that he hadn’t seen the faces or heard the names of the ones who did it.

He was already annoyed that the top brass had given him such an inferior mission, so he didn’t show any interest in those people. He left all those things to Csakan. Major Carrow wasn’t aware of a single detail of what happened at the mansion or who Jorghan was.

Major Carrow was a prideful man and a strong, experienced soldier. He believed that alien race was disrupting their universe, and their entire planet should be wiped out.

He swiped to another image—Scarlett being escorted into a spacecraft by a male figure, the resolution too poor to make out details but the basic facts clear.

”Surveillance satellites caught this. The hostile abducted Scarlett Moorne and one other individual—identified as Grace Moorne, the wife of Jamie Moorne. They departed Earth via the ship we traced here.”

”That little ship,” Carrow said quietly.

”The research vessel that went missing from this sector two weeks ago. You’re telling me this hostile stole it, used it to travel to Earth, committed mass murder, abducted two civilians, and then returned here?”

”We are after a single teenage boy,” he said.

”That appears to be the situation, sir.”

Carrow was silent for a moment, processing implications.

He chuckled, face-palming himself. ”To think they would let me do their shitty work.”

”What do we know about the hostile?”

”Very little. Physical description suggests a human or near-human male, approximately six feet tall. I think he is half elf and half human, sir. But the abilities displayed—spontaneous blood manifestation, kinetic attacks that exceeded anything we’ve seen from indigenous magic users, apparent immunity to conventional weapons fire—those put him in a threat category we’ve designated Omega-level.”

”Omega,” Carrow repeated.

The designation reserved for entities that could single-handedly threaten large-scale military operations.

”And this... person brought one of his abductees here. Which means he might still be in the area.”

”Yes, sir.”

Carrow stood, his expression hardening into something that promised violence.

”Increase perimeter security to maximum. I want mecha units on rotating patrol, sensor sweeps at full intensity, and all personnel on combat alert. If this hostile is nearby, I want him found and neutralized before he can replicate what he did at the Moorne estate.”

He moved toward the interrogation area where Scarlett and Swana were being held, Csakan following close behind. Around them, the base erupted into controlled chaos as orders were relayed, units repositioned and weapons brought to ready status.

The interrogation had progressed to uglier methods.

Scarlett’s face was bruised, her lip split from where a soldier had struck her for continued silence. Blood trickled from her nose, and one eye was already swelling shut.

But her remaining good eye tracked Carrow with hatred so pure it was almost physical.

Swana was in worse condition. Her injured leg had been deliberately aggravated, and fresh wounds marked her arms and torso where interrogators had applied ”enhanced techniques.” But like Scarlett, she remained silent, her eyes defiant despite the obvious agony.

In another section of the camp, the captured Nue’roka warriors were being subjected to tests that had nothing to do with interrogation and everything to do with scientific curiosity.

Medical personnel drew blood samples, took tissue biopsies and ran scans with equipment designed to analyze non-human physiology.

The elves were treated not as prisoners of war but as laboratory specimens—another species to be catalogued, studied, understood so they could be better countered or exploited.

Lamorg, bound more heavily than the others due to his leadership status, watched the proceedings with barely contained fury.

This was worse than death in combat.

This was humiliation, degrading, the reduction of proud warriors to objects of study for creatures who barely understood magic and had no respect for clan honor.

Carrow entered the interrogation area and looked down at Scarlett with new understanding. ”Scarlett Moorne. The boy who attacked your family estate—where is he? What is he?”

Scarlett spat blood at his feet. ”Go to hell.”

”We’re already there,” Carrow replied.

”This entire planet is hell from Earth’s perspective—a place where physics breaks down, where impossible things exist, and where our survival depends on understanding threats before they destroy us. So I’ll ask again—where is the hostile who brought you here?”

”I don’t know,” Scarlett said, which was technically true.

”We got separated in the forest. Could be anywhere by now.”

”But he’s coming for you,” Carrow said.

It wasn’t a question.

”Someone with his demonstrated capabilities, someone who abducted you from Earth specifically—he’s not going to abandon you here. Which means we have time to prepare a proper welcome.”

He turned to his soldiers.

”Continue with enhanced interrogation. I want full intelligence on the hostile’s capabilities, weaknesses, and behavioral patterns. Use whatever methods are necessary.”

He looked back at Scarlett; something appeared in his eyes: utter wickedness.

”You can make this easier on yourself and your friend by cooperating. Or you can watch her suffer until you break anyway. Your choice.”

”You’re making a mistake,” Scarlett said quietly.

”You have no idea what he is. What he can do. The things you know about him—that wasn’t even close to his full power. If he comes here, if he sees what you’ve done to us...”

”Then we’ll be ready,” Carrow interrupted.

”We have mecha units, we have air support and we have weapons specifically designed to counter supernatural threats. One hostile, no matter how powerful, can’t stand against a coordinated military force.”

You’re wrong! Scarlett thought but didn’t say.

You’re so wrong it would be funny if it wasn’t going to get all of you killed.

She’d seen Jorghan fight on Earth. Had watched him destroy trained soldiers and advanced aircraft without breaking a sweat. But more than that, she’d seen his eyes when he talked about family, about protecting those he cared for. Had heard the absolute certainty in his voice when he promised that anyone who threatened his people would face consequences.

These humans thought they were hunters setting a trap.

They didn’t understand they were prey that had already been marked for slaughter.

*

Whisperingtris Forest - Half Mile from IPMF Base

Jorghan stood in the clearing where the battle had occurred, his magic analyzing the residue left behind. The scent of plasma discharge, of burned flesh, of air and fear.

The ground was torn up by mechanical footprints, and blood—both elven and human, though mostly elven—stained the ground in abstract patterns.

”They were overwhelmed,” Sik’ra said quietly, examining the battlefield with a warrior’s eye.

”The Nue’roka fought, but whatever weapons these terraspers used, they were beyond the clan’s ability to counter. This wasn’t a battle. It was an execution.”

Sarhita moved to where drag marks indicated prisoners being hauled away.

”They took survivors. Both our people and the Nue’roka. That means there’s a base camp somewhere they’re holding them.”

Jorghan’s eyes were closed, his senses extended through blood magic to maximum range. He could feel Swana—her life signature weak, pained, but alive. And Scarlett, injured but conscious. They were close.

Perhaps half a mile east, in a location that registered to his senses as crowded with human life signatures. He could detect them by the blood flow in them.

Dozens of them.

Maybe hundreds, given the density of the readings.

”I found them,” he said, opening his eyes. They glowed faintly with crimson light, the Bloodborne Rage beginning to stir in response to his rising fury.

”They’re holding them in what feels like a military encampment. Heavy security. Lots of personnel.”

”Then we need a plan,” Sik’ra said.

”We can’t just charge in against that many—”

”You’re not charging in at all,” Jorghan interrupted, looking at his companions.

”You’re staying away. Together. This is going to be dangerous, and I can’t worry about protecting you while I’m dealing with whatever force they have.”

”Absolutely not,” Sarhita protested.

”We’re not letting you go in alone against an entire army base. That’s suicide.”

”For them, maybe,” Jorghan replied, his voice carrying that terrible calm that meant violence was imminent.