Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 216: Genesis knights

Cameron considered the question, her fingers steepled as she thought.

"Jorghan Sol’vur. Elven warrior from the Vael’thoria realm. Heir to a bloodline that allows him to manipulate blood essence with precision we’ve never seen. Capable of crossing interplanetary space without a vessel through sheer biological adaptation. And motivated by protecting individuals he considers under his authority."

They have identified him with the help of Luke and the people from Jorghan’s world.

She gestured at the screen showing the departed ship.

"He came to Earth for specific objectives: to take back what they took from him and punish those responsible. He accomplished both objectives and left. His violence was targeted, not random. He avoided civilian casualties despite killing hundreds of combatants. And when given the opportunity to conquer or establish a permanent presence, he chose to simply leave."

"So he’s not a threat?" the lieutenant asked.

"I didn’t say that," Cameron corrected.

"I said he’s not an immediate threat to Earth as a whole. But he’s absolutely a threat to anyone who attacks his interests or his people. The Moorne Corporation learned that lesson definitively."

She stood and moved to the tactical display showing Earth’s major power centers. Dozens of organizations, factions, and corporations are all jockeying for position in the post-Convergence world order.

The Moorne Corporation had been one of the largest; now it was a power vacuum waiting to be filled.

"Ma’am," the scarred officer ventured, "Luke Moorne still lives. Should we—"

"Leave him," Cameron interrupted.

"Luke Moorne is broken. His father was executed in front of him, and his mother chose to leave with the person who destroyed their empire."

"I would be surprised if that boy would let him live him a happy life there."

She had been the one Luke had been talking to when he met Jorghan, and she was the one who informed him about Jorghan’s arrival on the planet.

Luke had been a promising boy for them, and they wanted to hone his skills and talent and make him one of the strongest fighters on earth, but after witnessing Jorghan, they began to ponder.

The fundamental power, wielded by everyone, but it seemed different when it came to Jorghan. He was a monster.

She returned to her command chair, making a decision she’d been contemplating since watching the footage of Jorghan’s assault on the estate.

"The Sol’vur boy gave us something valuable by destroying the Moorne Corporation. He eliminated a rival power center that was becoming too independent, too willing to make deals with offworld factions without IMF oversight. Jamie Moorne was planning to establish Earth as an independent power that could play realms against each other for profit."

Cameron’s expression became colder.

"That vision died with him. Now we have an opportunity to absorb Moorne assets, appropriate their technology, and consolidate power that should have been under military control from the beginning. So Jorghan Sol’vur did us a favor, even if that wasn’t his intention."

"What about the ship?" the lieutenant asked.

"The Triggon represented years of research and billions in development costs. Letting it leave Earth—"

"Was acceptable loss," Cameron finished.

"We have the technical specifications in our databases. The Moorne Corporation wasn’t the only organization developing lightspeed-capable vessels. We can build more. And frankly, having an advanced ship in the hands of someone who’s demonstrated he’ll use violence to protect his interests might be useful."

She pulled up a file on her personal display with intelligence gathered about Vael’thorian, the elven clans, their political structure, and conflicts with the Empire.

"The Sol’vur clan is newly restored, politically weak despite their warriors’ individual power. They’re surrounded by rivals who resent their recognition by the Council. They face Empire aggression that targets all elven populations. In short, they have enemies."

"And enemies can be useful," the scarred officer observed, understanding where Cameron was going.

"Exactly," Cameron confirmed.

"We let Jorghan Sol’vur return to his world with our technology, with knowledge of Earth’s capabilities, and with understanding that we exist as a potential ally or threat.

Then we watch. See how he uses what he’s learned. See if opportunities emerge for mutually beneficial relationships."

They weren’t aware of what was happening in the current state of affairs in the realm.

She closed the file and looked at her command staff.

"The Moorne Corporation wanted to control the bridge between Earth and other realms. They failed. But we won’t. The Interplanetary Military Force will be that bridge, and we’ll do it properly—with discipline, oversight, and strategic planning rather than corporate greed."

Cameron gestured at the screen showing the space where the ship had disappeared.

"So we let them go. We watch. We prepare. And when the time is right, we make contact on our terms rather than theirs. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Ma’am," her staff replied in unison.

"Good. Now get me a detailed analysis of every Moorne asset on Earth. I want to know what we can use, what needs to be secured, and what we can use to expand IMPF capabilities. The Convergence changed everything, but we’re going to make sure Earth emerges stronger rather than being conquered by better-organized realms."

The command center returned to its normal operational rhythm, with officers moving to execute their commander’s orders and screens displaying intelligence feeds from around the globe and beyond.

Cameron Reid sat in her chair and allowed herself a small smile. Jamie Moorne had thought he was building an empire. Instead, he’d just provided the foundation for someone smarter and more capable to build something greater.

The game between realms was becoming more complex.

But Earth had players who understood how to compete.

And the Interplanetary Military Force was going to make sure they won.

*

The Imperial Capital - Vael’thoria

Faraway from Earth, in the heart of the Empire that spanned multiple continents and claimed dominion over millions, the Imperial Shrine rose above the capital city like a mountain made of faith.

It was enormous, easily the largest structure in the realm, visible from miles away, its white marble walls seeming to glow even at night. Golden accents caught sunlight and reflected it in patterns that appeared almost divine. Spires reached toward the sky as if trying to physically touch the heavens. And at its peak, a statue of the Great Emperor stood sixty feet tall, his stone face gazing down over his domain with the benevolent expression of a god watching over beloved children.

For the Empire and its people, the Great Emperor wasn’t just a ruler. He was divinity made manifest.

The living embodiment of order, righteousness, and cosmic authority. His word was law not because of political power, but because his will was considered the will of the universe itself.

To serve him was the highest honor any citizen could achieve. To die for him was to guarantee endless prosperity in whatever afterlife the faithful believed awaited.

And within the worship place’s deepest sanctums, where only the most devoted were permitted entry, the shrine created the instruments of the Great Emperor’s will.

The Genesis Knights.

*

Commander Zayne Blackwell knelt in the Preparation Chamber, his head bowed, his breathing controlled despite the adrenaline coursing through his system. He was thirty-two years old, had served the Empire for fifteen years, and had distinguished himself in campaigns against elven settlements and border conflicts with rival powers.

He’d killed his first elf at seventeen. Had commanded his first unit at twenty-three. Had been decorated for valor six times and injured in combat enough times that his body carried scars that no healing magic could fully erase.

All of it had led to this moment.

He wore the ceremonial white robes of a Genesis Candidate, simple garments that contrasted with his usual military uniform. His dark hair had been cut short, his face freshly shaved, and his body purified through three days of fasting and ritual cleansing.

Before him stood High Priest Matthias Cain, one of the twelve high-ranking shrine officials who served directly under the Great Emperor himself. He wore white and gold vestments that marked his sacred office, his weathered face showing decades of devoted service, his eyes carrying the zealous certainty of absolute faith.

"Zayne Blackwell," High Priest Cain intoned, his voice echoing in the stone chamber.

"You have been chosen. Among thousands who serve, among hundreds who aspire, you have been selected to become something more than mortal. Do you accept this honor?"

"I do, Your Eminence," Zayne replied, his voice steady despite his racing heart.

"Do you understand that this transformation is permanent? That’s what you will be consumed in service to what you will become?"

"I understand."

"Do you swear absolute loyalty to the Great Emperor? To serve his will without question, to execute his enemies without mercy, to die if necessary to advance his divine purpose?"

"I swear it on my life, my soul, and everything I am or will ever be," Zayne said, using the formula he’d been taught during his training.

High Priest Cain placed his hand on Zayne’s head, and essence flowed from the holy man into the kneeling candidate. It felt warm and invasive, as if Cain was reading his thoughts, assessing his sincerity, and measuring whether he truly possessed the devotion required for what came next.