Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 237: Faery child kidnapped

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, easy for her given their height difference.

"Give yourself credit. You’re building something unprecedented. A clan formed from desperate remnants, led by someone barely into adulthood by elven standards, navigating politics that would challenge leaders with centuries more experience. The fact that it’s working at all is impressive."

"Is it working though?" Jorghan asked.

"Or are we just delaying inevitable collapse?"

"Both," Nami replied honestly.

"Every clan is always on the edge of potential collapse. The strong ones just hide it better. We’re building something, and whether it endures depends on thousands of decisions we haven’t made yet. But we’re trying, genuinely trying, and that matters."

She kissed his cheek.

"Come inside. Sashru brought dinner, Kleela wants to show you her latest plant creation, and later you and I need to discuss some supply chain issues that require your authority to resolve. Life continues, regardless of existential concerns about success or failure."

Jorghan smiled despite his fatigue.

"Practical as always."

"Someone has to be when you’re lost in philosophical contemplation," Nami replied.

"Now come. Dinner gets cold, and Kleela gets cranky when we make her wait."

They returned to the tent together, to the makeshift family that was forming despite all the complications, to the work of actually building something lasting from the broken pieces they’d started with.

The Sol’vur clan was being reborn.

Slowly and messily.

The next day at the Cliff’s Edge

Jorghan stood at the cliff overlooking the valley where the Pantheon of Beasts’ remains lay sprawled across the ground.

The evening sun cast long shadows across the massive bones, making the ancient spear look like it was still vibrating from the impact that had driven it through a god’s skull millennia ago.

He’d come here to think, to escape the constant demands of camp management for a few minutes of solitude.

Grace and Luke were back at the Nor’vack clan. He told Grace to stay there until he was done with the settlement. Sigora had been with him throughout the day and left to deal with other tasks. She was the most dedicated person in this whole mess of a development. Swana and Sik’ra helped her as they wanted to.

Though Korreth had his reservations about them, he didn’t object.

Sarhita was still being distant, and Katisana was trying to bridge the gap between them.

Another day passed by with an en number of discussions and decisions.

This place helped.

The physical evidence that his ancestors had achieved the impossible reminded him that overwhelming challenges could be overcome with sufficient determination and sacrifice.

He was contemplating the engineering required to forge a weapon capable of killing divine entities when he heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind.

Nami appeared at the cliff’s edge, her usually composed expression showing panic that made Jorghan’s blood run cold before she even spoke.

"Kleela’s missing," Nami gasped, having clearly run the entire distance from camp.

"I’ve searched everywhere. Her tent, the gardens she tends, the residential ruins, the plaza—she’s gone. No one’s seen her since early morning."

Jorghan’s tactical mind immediately began calculating possibilities.

"How long?"

"At least two hours," Nami replied.

"I thought she was with Sashru, Sashru thought she was with me, and when we compared notes and realized neither of us had seen her..."

She trailed off, fear evident in her voice.

"She’s just a child. She shouldn’t be wandering alone. What if something happened to her?"

"Show me where you last saw her," Jorghan commanded, already moving.

"We’ll track from there."

They ran back toward camp, Nami leading him to Kleela’s small tent where the faery child kept her plants and personal belongings. Everything appeared normal, no signs of struggle, no evidence of forced entry, just the usual organized chaos of a ten-year-old’s living space.

But Jorghan noticed something.

A small trail of crushed plants leading away from the tent, heading northeast toward the forest that bordered Colloniel’s ruins. The plants weren’t crushed by boots or normal feet—the pattern suggested something smaller, lighter, and moving quickly.

"She went this way," Jorghan said, following the trail.

"Recent, within the last few hours, based on how the vegetation is recovering."

They followed the trail through the ruins, past temporary camps where other clan members were going about routines, into increasingly wild territory as civilization gave way to natural growth.

The forest that bordered Colloniel Ruins was dense, ancient trees with massive trunks, undergrowth that had never been cultivated, shadows that persisted even in daylight. Kleela’s trail continued into the trees, small footprints now visible in softer ground.

"Why would she come out here alone?" Nami asked, worry making her voice tight.

"She knows it’s dangerous. We told her to stay near camp."

"Children don’t always follow instructions," Jorghan replied, his senses extended, searching for any sign of the faery child.

"Especially curious children who’ve lived alone for years. She probably thought she could handle whatever she encountered."

They were perhaps two miles into the forest when Jorghan felt it again—that familiar sensation of being watched that he’d experienced multiple times since arriving at Colloniel Ruins. But this time it was closer, more intense, carrying hostility rather than just curiosity.

He raised his hand, and blood essence manifested around his fingers in warning spirals.

Then, with a thought, he activated an ability, plant manipulation, using his mana. The trees around them responded to his will, their roots erupting from the ground, their branches whipping through the air with coordinated purpose.

The watcher was yanked from concealment with violent efficiency, lifted into the air by wooden limbs that wrapped around its body like restraints, holding it suspended twenty feet above the ground.

*

What they’d captured made both Jorghan and Nami instinctively take defensive stances.

It was humanoid in basic structure—two arms, two legs, upright posture—but fundamentally alien in every other way. Its build was lean and muscular, suggesting predatory capability and physical power beyond what its size suggested.

The creature’s skin was dark, almost black, with a texture that resembled chitin or layered armor plates rather than normal flesh. The surface had a subtle sheen that suggested it might be harder than it appeared, possibly providing natural protection against weapons.

Its face was elongated and reptilian, with a pronounced snout that contained rows of sharp teeth visible even when its mouth was closed. Layered ridges covered its skull and neck, creating armor-like protection for vulnerable areas. And on either side of its mouth were sharp mandibles that clicked together with sounds that might have been communication or simply threat displays.

The creature’s eyes were the most disturbing feature, glowing amber orbs without visible pupils, tracking Jorghan and Nami with intelligence that suggested this was no simple beast.

This was a sentient being, capable of strategy and planning, currently radiating menace despite being thoroughly restrained.

It wore minimal equipment: some kind of harness with pouches attached, a belt that might have held weapons before the trees had disarmed it, and technological devices whose purposes weren’t immediately clear.

The creature’s posture, even suspended and helpless, remained tense and alert. It studied them with the focus of a predator that hadn’t given up despite being caught, waiting for any opportunity to reverse its circumstances.

Then it spoke.

The voice was harsh, clicking, and layered with harmonics that suggested multiple vocal cords producing sound simultaneously. But underneath the alien quality, the words were recognizable—Common Elven, the trade language most civilized species used for basic communication.

"Release me, or the faery dies."

Nami gasped.

"You have Kleela? Where is she? What have you done to her?"

The creature’s mandibles clicked in what might have been amusement.

"The small one is alive. Unharmed, currently. But my pack grows impatient. If I do not return soon, they will begin... examining her. Determining her value. Small beings with unusual abilities often fetch good prices from certain buyers."

"And she makes a delicious prey."

Jorghan’s blood essence flared with barely controlled rage.

"You’re slavers."

"We are hunters," the creature corrected.

"We acquire valuable specimens and deliver them to those willing to pay. The faery is extremely valuable—her species is nearly extinct, her abilities are rare. She will bring significant profit, if she survives acquisition."

"Jorghan, please," Nami’s voice was desperate.

"Save her.

Whatever it takes. Please."

Jorghan forced himself to think past the rage, to approach this tactically rather than emotionally. Threatening the creature wouldn’t help—it clearly expected violence and had prepared for that possibility. Killing it would just ensure Kleela’s death when the pack realized their companion wasn’t returning.

He needed leverage.

Needed to understand what he was dealing with and how to neutralize it.

"Take us to her," Jorghan said finally.

"To your pack, to wherever you’re holding the faery. We’ll negotiate for her release."

The creature’s glowing eyes studied him.

"You would walk into our camp? Surrender tactical advantage? That’s either brave or stupid."

"I’m the one who caught you with a thought," Jorghan replied coldly.

"I’m the one who can make these trees crush you into paste before you finish your next sentence. So maybe I’m confident that your pack isn’t a threat worth worrying about. Now take us to Kleela, or discover exactly how creative I can be with blood manipulation when I’m properly motivated."