Invincible Blood Sorceror

"Crimson Emperor's Eye: Mark of Death."

Jorghan's eyes flared brighter, and suddenly he could see every soldier as if they were outlined in red light. Distance became meaningless, obstacles became transparent, and his perception expanded to cover the entire battlefield simultaneously.

He gestured, and the blood lances split—one thousand becoming two thousand, then four thousand, multiplying as he poured essence into manifestation. They filled the sky like a crimson cloud, blotting out the sun, casting everything in a red shadow.

"Rain of the Blood God."

The lances fell like judgment.

There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The spears tracked individual soldiers with implacable determination, adjusting mid-flight to follow desperate dodges, overwhelming defensive barriers through sheer volume.

The sound was like thunder mixed with screaming—metal piercing flesh, essence tearing through matter, death delivered on an industrial scale.

Another eight hundred fell in the span of ten seconds.

[Soldiers Eliminated: 3800]

[Blood Essence Absorbed: 800 additional units]

[Essence Reserves: 97% → 100% - MAXIMUM CAPACITY REACHED]

[Overflow Detected: Channeling excess into advanced manifestations]

The remaining soldiers broke.

Training and discipline couldn't withstand watching over a thousand comrades die in less than twenty seconds. They turned to flee, some dropping weapons in their panic, others simply running blindly toward anything that wasn't the crimson nightmare standing at the crater's edge.

Jorghan wouldn't let them escape.

His hands came together, fingers interlacing in a complex mudra, and his voice took on harmonics that seemed to bypass physical sound entirely, resonating directly with the blood in every living thing within a mile.

"Berserk Lord's Secret Art: Sanguine Cataclysm—Erupting Blood Sea!"

The sand beneath the fleeing soldiers liquefied, transforming into blood—not metaphorically, but literally. Silicon and minerals were transmuted through alchemical processes that shouldn't exist, the very substance of the earth becoming crimson fluid that rose in waves like an ocean suddenly appearing in the middle of the desert.

The blood sea expanded rapidly, covering square miles in seconds, rising to waist-height on the panicking soldiers. Those who tried to wade through it found their movements sluggish, as if the liquid itself were fighting them, pulling them down.

"Blood Sea Technique: Ten Thousand Drowning Hands!"

From the crimson ocean, hands began to emerge. Not human hands—these were constructs of pure blood essence, but they moved with terrible life-like quality, grasping, clutching, pulling. They grabbed soldiers' legs, their arms, and their necks, dragging them down into the blood sea.

The soldiers screamed as they were pulled under, the liquid filling their lungs, drowning them in essence that invaded their bodies, stopped their hearts, and extinguished their lives with cold efficiency.

Five hundred more died, pulled beneath the surface of an ocean that hadn't existed moments before.

[Soldiers Eliminated: 4400]

[Blood Essence Absorbed: 4,400 total units]

[Warning: Essence overflow critical—must expend or risk unstable mutation]

[Recommendation: IMMEMORIAL-CLASS TECHNIQUES NOW AVAILABLE]

Jorghan raised both hands toward the sky once more, and the blood sea responded to his will, rising in a massive column that stretched hundreds of feet into the air—a pillar of crimson power that connected earth to heaven, visible for dozens of miles in every direction.

At the top of the pillar, the blood began to condense, compressing under impossible forces, taking shape.

It formed a dragon.

Not a metaphorical representation or artistic flourish, but an actual construct in the shape of the ancient apex predators, hundreds of feet long, scaled in crystallized blood essence, with eyes like burning coals and a maw filled with teeth that could rend steel. It coiled around the pillar, gathering power, and when it opened its mouth, reality itself seemed to distort.

"Blood Dragon's Extinction Roar!"

The dragon's roar wasn't a sound, but it was a force made audible, a shockwave of compressed essence and elemental fury that swept across the battlefield like the breath of an angry god.

It struck the remaining soldiers—over two thousand men—with enough power to pulverize stone.

Bodies disintegrated where the roar touched them, armor crumpling like paper, flesh and bone unable to withstand forces that exceeded anything conventional matter was designed to handle. The wave continued past them, striking the artillery positions, the mobile armor units, and the supply trains in the rear.

Everything it touched was destroyed—not damaged, not disabled, but fundamentally unmade, reduced to component atoms that scattered in the wind.

[Soldiers Eliminated: 12,350]

[Artillery Destroyed: 20 units]

[Armor Destroyed: 15 units]

[Blood Essence Absorbed: 12,350 units total]

The dragon dissolved after its attack, blood essence raining back down to rejoin the sea, but Jorghan wasn't finished.

The Imperial fleet—six massive airships holding position five miles above the battlefield—had begun emergency ascent procedures, trying to gain altitude beyond his reach.

They wouldn't make it.

Jorghan's form lifted off the ground, blood essence forming beneath his feet like steps in the air, carrying him upward with accelerating speed.

As he rose, he gathered power, and not just the blood he'd absorbed, but elemental energy drawn from the environment, fire and wind and raw magical force combining with his bloodline abilities.

His ascent accelerated, faster and faster, until he was moving at speeds that created sonic booms, the air itself igniting from friction against his blood-essence shield.

He reached the altitude of the lowest airship in seconds.

"Elemental Fusion Art: Crimson Nova Canon!"

His hands thrust forward, and from his palms erupted a beam of concentrated destruction, blood essence, fire magic, wind compression, and raw kinetic force all woven together into a single coherent attack.

The beam was ten feet in diameter, white-hot at its core with crimson edges, and it struck the first airship's hull like the finger of an angry god.

The advanced armor that should have withstood sustained bombardment lasted exactly one second before failing. The beam punched through, cored out the ship's interior, and emerged from the opposite side, continuing into the sky beyond.

The airship's fusion reactor lost containment, and the explosion that followed dwarfed anything that had come before.

A miniature sun bloomed in the sky, expanding outward, consuming everything within a quarter-mile radius of the detonation point.

The shockwave struck the other five airships, sending them tumbling, their altitude control failing, and their crews scrambling to regain stability.

Jorghan didn't give them the chance.

From the settlements, Sarhita put her hands on her mouth. "What in the seven hells is he doing?"

"Massacre, it's called utter massacre."

"He is a terrifying individual, I would say," Thel'endra said.

All of them agreed with her, and especially Grace and Scarlett were quite shaken.