Invincible Blood Sorceror

And he could see several other worlds present in the far distance.

There was no air here.

No sound except the rush of blood in his ears and the hum of essence sustaining him. No up or down in any meaningful sense, just the world behind him and infinite darkness ahead.

His bloodline's instincts activated, something deeper than conscious thought guiding him toward a specific direction.

He oriented himself toward that sensation and pushed harder.

Speed increased exponentially once atmospheric drag disappeared. Blood essence propelled him forward with nothing to resist his momentum. The world behind him shrank, becoming a sphere, then a disk, then a bright dot among millions of stars.

He was moving at different speed levels; it was like he was a blur of vision.

Time became meaningless. Minutes or hours passed; he couldn't tell which. All that existed was the void, the stars, and the burning need to reach his destination.

His essence reserves depleted steadily.

This kind of sustained effort, maintaining life support and propulsion simultaneously, drained him faster than any battle. But his bloodline adapted, drawing from reserves he didn't know he possessed, tapping into something fundamental that refused to let him fail.

Eventually, another dot appeared in the distance. Different from stars, larger, closer, with its own light reflected from a distant sun rather than generated internally.

[EARTH DETECTED]

He adjusted his trajectory, aiming for the blue-green sphere that grew steadily larger as he approached. It looked similar to his own world, with clouds, oceans, and landmasses—but the continents had different shapes, the patterns unique.

As he drew closer, his speed became a problem. He was moving too fast and would impact the atmosphere with force that might tear through his protective barrier or burn him alive from friction.

Jorghan spread his blood essence wider, creating drag, bleeding off velocity as carefully as he could manage while maintaining life support.

It was a delicate balance, slowing down without losing the barrier that kept him alive.

The atmosphere reached up to meet him, thin at first, then growing denser. Heat built along his barrier as friction increased. Not dangerous yet, but uncomfortable, a warning that he was pushing limits.

He adjusted continuously, fine-tuning his descent, burning essence reserves at alarming rates but unable to stop now. Earth filled his vision—all he could see in any direction was the planet rushing up to meet him.

Then he was through the worst of it, dropping through clouds that looked exactly like the ones above his own world, descending toward landmasses that sprawled below in browns and greens.

[ATMOSPHERIC ENTRY]

[Blood essence shield: MAXIMUM DENSITY

Thermal absorption channels: ACTIVE

Deceleration protocols: LOADED]

He followed towards a specific region, a cluster of structures, roads, vehicles moving between buildings, and all the signs of human civilization.

The ground rushed up faster than expected. Jorghan poured essence into slowing his descent, creating barriers of solidified blood energy beneath him to cushion impact, burning through the last of his reserves to ensure he didn't simply crater into the planet's surface.

He hit the ground in front of a large building.

He'd crossed the void between worlds through sheer willpower and bloodline capability.

He'd reached Earth.

[LANDING COMPLETE]

[Impact force: 100.7 G (absorbed by blood essence cushioning)

Physical status:

- Minor burns: 23% of skin surface (regenerating)

- Essence depletion: 54%

- Muscle fatigue: 78%

- Blood essence reserves: 2,094 units

He crossed the void between worlds under his own power.

He accelerated through space using blood essence, compressing distance rather than simply moving through it. By the time he reached the planet, his momentum was no longer just speed—it was stored force, layered and condensed around his body.

When he entered the atmosphere, the world itself resisted him.

His blood essence shield activated fully, wrapping around his body like a living shell. It absorbed most of the force meant to shatter continents. But no shield is perfect.

Some of that power escaped.

And the ground paid the price.

Layers of pits, each more than a hundred meters wide, spread outward from the point where he landed.

For a brief second, the earth itself seemed to shudder, as if struck by a giant's fist.

His feet drove several inches into the soil, knees bending to absorb what remained of the impact. The protective barrier shattered at once, blood essence scattering into the air like mist. His transformation faded, strength bleeding away as exhaustion finally caught him.

Jorghan dropped to his hands and knees, breathing hard. His body returned to its normal form, but every muscle screamed in protest, echoing the strain of what he had just endured.

*

Jorghan forced himself to stand, his legs shaking from exhaustion and essence depletion. He looked up at the building he'd landed in front of—a massive structure of white stone and glass, three stories tall, surrounded by carefully maintained gardens and decorative walls.

A mansion, the Moorne family mansion.

This was where Scarlett and Grace had lived before he took her away.

Scarlett mentioned her family's estate, described the wealth and influence of the Moorne family, and explained how her life had been controlled by expectations and obligations until he came.

Jorghan walked toward the main entrance, still unsteady but functional.

The system was working on healing him.

He was now in his human form.

His clothing was torn from the journey through space, his body covered in sweat despite the cold, but he was alive and mobile. That would have to be enough.

He reached the large door and tried the handle.

Locked.

His patience for obstacles was nonexistent right now.

Jorghan channeled what little blood essence he'd recovered and struck the door. Wood splintered, locks shattered, and the door swung inward with a crash that echoed through the entrance hall beyond.

He stepped inside into a space that screamed wealth. Marble floors, high ceilings with elaborate chandeliers, artwork on walls, and furniture that probably cost more than most people earned in years.

And absolutely no one was present.

The mansion was empty.

Not abandoned—everything was too clean, too organized for that. But no servants, no family members, and no guards responded to the sound of forced entry.

"Hello?" Jorghan called out, his voice rough from the journey.

"Is anyone here?"

Silence answered him.

He moved through the entrance hall into what looked like a living area. More expensive furniture, more artwork, but still no people. He checked other rooms systematically—dining areas, kitchens, studies, bedrooms—finding evidence of recent occupation but no actual occupants.

Finally, in what appeared to be a study on the second floor, he found another person. An older man, maybe sixty years old, wearing servant's clothing, dusting bookshelves with care.

The man turned when Jorghan entered, and his eyes widened in shock at the appearance of a crimson-eyed stranger covered in road dust and wearing strange, torn clothing.

"Who are you?" the man demanded, backing away nervously.

"How did you get in here?"

"Where's Grace and that bastard Jamie?" Jorghan said, ignoring the questions.

"Where are they?"

"They're not here," the man replied, still backing away.

"They left three days ago. I don't know where they went."

Jorghan's frustration threatened to explode into rage. He'd crossed the void between worlds, nearly killed himself getting here, and Grace was already gone?

"Where did they go? They must have said something about their destination."

"I'm just the estate caretaker," the man said, his hands raised defensively.

"I maintain the building when the family is away. They don't tell me their travel plans. I just know they packed suddenly and left in multiple vehicles. That's all I can tell you."

Jorghan stared at him, searching for deception, but the man seemed genuinely ignorant of useful information.

"Fine," Jorghan said finally.

He turned and walked out, leaving the caretaker staring after him in confused terror.

*

Jorghan exited the mansion through the broken front door and stood in the courtyard, trying to decide his next move. He had no idea where to start looking for Grace.

Earth was an entire planet, and he'd just learned that his only lead, the Moorne family mansion, was a dead end.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grounds. The air felt different here than on his world—similar oxygen content, but subtle variations in scent and pressure that marked this as a foreign place.

He walked toward what looked like a road beyond the estate's walls, hoping to find someone who could point him toward information sources. Cities had records, registries, and ways to track wealthy families' movements.

He passed through the estate gates onto the street beyond and was now standing on the road, looking at the world he was once in.

It seemed to have changed drastically, he could tell. The air felt different, and there was some strange mystical scent in the air that he sensed.

As he stood there, he heard screams of men, and when he turned, he saw people running.

Precisely then a woman ran around the corner, her clothing torn, her face showing pure terror. She was maybe in her thirties, with dark hair falling loose from what had probably been a professional style earlier in the day. She stumbled, caught herself, and kept running with desperate energy that spoke of mortal fear.