LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Lyerin walked through the dense, dark woods, his steps quiet but deliberate.

The trees parted before him as if even nature feared his presence.

His destination, the abandoned sanctuary of his tribe.

As he approached the sanctuary, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 'I'm back', he thought.

The word echoed in his mind, not with nostalgia or longing, but with a cold certainty that filled him with twisted joy.

"So those girls are back already and left without my permission. However, they are considered safe given their levels; I have already included them along with the beasts with my leveling up ability," he mumbled as he tried not to think about them.

Reaching the heart of the sanctuary, Lyerin stopped and pulled something from within his cloak—a small, glowing sigil. It pulsed with a dull, malevolent light.

This wasn't just any sigil; it was the tamers' sigil from the Borgias Family, something so rare and powerful that even they guarded it jealously.

He held it up in the strong sunlight, the markings on the sigil faintly visible, and a low chuckle escaped him.

"So this is it," he murmured, his voice carrying an eerie calm. "The tamers' sigil…"

He knew how the Borgias Family had acquired this artifact, and he knew that only the largest, most powerful families had access to these kinds of tools.

Tools capable of taming beasts far beyond the ordinary. Beasts that could bring about the apocalypse he had planned for so long.

'This was the real reason I infiltrated the Borgias', Lyerin thought as he turned the sigil over in his hands.

The image of his mother flashed briefly in his mind, but it didn't stir any warmth or regret within him. She had been nothing more than a test, a way for him to discover if he was truly shaped by the cruelty of the Borgias Family.

If their betrayal had molded him into the demon he had become. But no. The truth, as it turned out, was far simpler—and far more terrifying.

"I wasn't made this way because of them," he whispered to himself, gripping the sigil tighter. "I was born this way. I am a demon, and that's all there is to it."

A slow, manic laugh escaped his lips, growing louder with each passing second.

The trees around him seemed to shudder as his voice filled the air. 'I am a creature of even I don't understand.', he thought, the realization sending a jolt of excitement through him. 'There's no reasoning behind it. No grand purpose. I simply exist to destroy, to enjoy the madness.'

Clutching the sigil, he felt the power thrumming within it. This was what he needed to deepen his apocalypse, to let loose the chaos that had been brewing within him for so long. "Finally…" he muttered. "I can tame the beasts that will tear this world apart."

Lyerin began walking toward the some part of the sanctuary, already planning how he would raise an army of untamed creatures, creatures that would be unstoppable with this sigil.

Yet, as he crossed the threshold into his tribe's territory, something unexpected happened.

| Ding!'

A notification appeared in front of him, hovering in the air, the letters glowing with a faint light.

Lyerin's brow furrowed as he read the message:

always-on-MvLeMpYr

| After analyzing the Tribe's Leader, Lyerin Borgias, the tribe has detected that the leader's mana capacity has climbed too high.

| The tribe is now overshadowed, making the host unsuitable to remain as leader unless the host ceases all direct actions and allows the tribe to manage itself. |

Lyerin stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes.

"What…is this?" he muttered, his voice tense. He reread the message, a cold sense of dread creeping into his mind.

Before he could process the implications, another notification appeared:

| Ding!'

| To prevent alienation of the tribe from its leader and severance of all ties, the host is now limited to giving commands for three years.

| Should the host act independently, the tribe will sever its connection to the host permanently. |

Lyerin's heart skipped a beat. His hand tightened around the sigil as his thoughts raced. "What the hell is going on?" he growled under his breath.

And then it hit him.

The borrowed mana.

The power he had siphoned from the Shadow Panther of the Borgias Family had pushed his mana levels far beyond what his tribe could comprehend.

They saw him now as a being too powerful, too different from what he once was.

They feared the disconnect between him and the tribe would destroy them from within if he continued to act alone.

'The tribe thinks I've outgrown them', Lyerin realized, his mind whirling.

He could feel his grip on the tribe loosening.

'What the hell? I only borrowed it and it would disappear after later, at the end of the day, this Mana would disappear eventually, so how come?"

If he didn't follow these new rules, if he continued to act on his own whims, he would lose the tribe entirely. And with it, the support he desperately needed for what was to come.

Lyerin took a deep breath, trying to push down the panic rising in his chest.

'This is bad… really bad.' He knew his own nature far too well.

He was impulsive, reckless, constantly driven by a need for excitement and danger. It was why, in his past life, he had come so close to dying over and over again.

Without the tribe's support, he would be vulnerable—his recklessness would lead him into danger, into mistakes, into death just like when he tried to surprise and kill the dragon tamer, he was the one who was being surprised and killed instead.

Lyerin knew how aggressive he was.

"I court death too often," he whispered to himself, his voice strained. "I've always done it… and without the tribe…"

He clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on his shoulders.

His mind flashed back to the hundreds of thousands of lives he had lived before.

In each life, it had been the same—his desire for thrill and chaos had always led him to the edge of death.

Lyerin's face darkened.

The realization that he was bound to these rules infuriated him.

His entire life had been about freedom, about breaking free from the chains of control.

Now, even with all his power, even after defeating those who sought to bind him, he was once again shackled—this time by his own tribe.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "It's fine," he muttered. "It doesn't matter. I can work with this. I own this tribe, I will keep owning this."

But deep down, he knew the truth. His entire being was built on defying control, on pushing boundaries.

Being forced into this position, forced to rely on others, was the very thing he despised most. And yet, there was no way around it.

He needed the tribe, whether he liked it or not.

Lyerin exhaled sharply, his eyes flashing with frustration. "Alright," he said aloud, his voice carrying a note of finality. "I'll play along. I'll let them do what they need to do."

He glanced up at the sky, his expression hardening as the weight of the decision settled in. "It's not like I can't handle it." A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I've got three years, and plenty of time to prepare."

But even as he said the words, he felt the gnawing irritation inside him, the itch to take control, to act.

He knew it wouldn't be easy, but for now, he would comply.

'For now.'