LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Lyerin circled the group of people for what felt like an eternity, his NovelFireere presence weighing down on them like a suffocating fog.

His gaze was sharp, piercing each individual as though he were assessing their very souls.

He walked slowly, his heavy boots crunching the earth beneath him, sending a tremor of fear through the crowd.

No one dared to speak, to even shift under his gaze.

They could feel it—the sheer power radiating from him, a presence so overwhelming it seemed to warp the air around him.

His expression was unreadable, but the cold glint in his eyes made it clear he saw them as nothing more than ants.

After a long, drawn-out silence, Lyerin finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Sophia, Corora," he began, not even glancing in their direction, "feed them."

The two women looked at each other briefly before nodding.

The others—Maria, Elena, Lydia, Fiona, Emily, and Natalie—followed suit, though the looks they gave the outsiders were not friendly.

There was tension between them, and it was palpable.

Lyerin continued, "I know you might hate them." His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. "They dragged you here, after all, to this place. Maybe you resent Corora and the others for that." He paused, letting the words sink in.

The crowd remained silent, though some couldn't help but shoot angry glances at Corora and the other girls. It was clear they did harbor some resentment.

"But you don't need to worry," Lyerin continued. His voice was calm, almost too calm, as though he were discussing something trivial.

"You'll be doing minimal tasks. Cleaning, tending to basic duties. Nothing too strenuous. You're all incredibly weak. Far too weak to be of any real use to me or my tribe."

The crowd bristled, but none dared speak up. Even the old man with the Sparky guy earlier despite his earlier defiance, now stood silent, his face pale and drawn.

One could see that Lyerin's words had sunk deep.

He looked directly at the old man, his eyes boring into his.

"Even you old man," he said, his voice tinged with disdain. "You're not worth a single thing right now."

The old man's hands trembled slightly, and he looked down at the dead Sparky guy at the ground, his jaw clenched in frustration.

But what could he do?

He was outmatched.

He had seen Lyerin's power now, and even more terrifying, the strange creatures under his command.

Their earlier bravado had melted away, replaced by the cold reality of their situation.

Satisfied that his message had been delivered, Lyerin exhaled deeply, the tension in the air easing just slightly.

He glanced at Corora, Sophia, and the others. "Take care of them," he ordered. "Make sure they understand their place."

Corora and the others nodded, though their expressions remained hard as they led the group away.

The resentment between them was obvious, but Lyerin didn't concern himself with such petty emotions.

These people were tools, and like any tool, they would be used or discarded based on their value.

As they disappeared from his sight, Lyerin decided it was time to relax. He had done enough for the moment, and his mind wandered to other matters.

He made his way toward the sanctuary, his sanctuary, a place he often visited to clear his thoughts.

The path to the sanctuary was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the wind.

The air here felt different, more pure and untouched, as though this small corner of the world had been spared the devastation of the apocalypse.

As Lyerin approached the gates, he noticed that the area had been thoroughly cleaned—no debris, no signs of life.

The girls had been thorough, perhaps even too thorough.

There wasn't a single animal left, no signs of the usual critters that often scurried around.

He let out a soft sigh as he stepped through the entrance, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

The sanctuary was a beautiful, yet haunting place.

Large trees, their trunks thick and gnarled with age, rose high into the air, their leaves casting shifting shadows on the ground below.

The plants were varied, ranging from vibrant green vines to strange, alien-like flora that seemed to hum with a life of their own.

Some glowed faintly in the dimming light, their petals giving off a soft, ethereal glow.

The bricks that made up the walls of the sanctuary were old, weathered with time, yet strong.

Cracks ran through them, filled with moss and tiny, creeping plants that thrived in the moist air.

Each stone seemed to carry the weight of centuries, as though they had witnessed countless stories unfold within these walls.

The stones underfoot were cool, smoothed by years of use, and they led deeper into the sanctuary, toward the heart of the place.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and the faint tang of something sweet, a strange but not unpleasant mix that made the sanctuary feel like a world unto itself.

Lyerin's thoughts drifted as he walked, his mind wandering to the events that had unfolded.

He wondered about the future—about his tribe, the strange notifications from the system, and what it all meant.

He could feel something changing, something shifting in the world around him, but he couldn't quite grasp what it was.

Suddenly, something small and quick darted across his path, catching his attention.

He stopped, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the tiny creature.

It was a mole, scurrying along the ground, oblivious to the predator watching it.

Lyerin's lips twitched into a slight smile.

He hadn't seen many animals lately, and this one piqued his curiosity.

Without much thought, he extended his hand, and from his palm, a black, gooey substance began to ooze, stretching out toward the mole.

The creature squeaked in alarm as it was caught in the sticky substance, struggling in vain to escape.

Lyerin crouched down, holding the wriggling mole in his hand. "Squeek, squeek," it cried, its tiny legs kicking uselessly.

Bored, Lyerin idly considered what to do with it.

He pulled out the insignia he had taken from the Borgias Family, a powerful relic that held the ability to create calamity beasts.

The thought crossed his mind—should he use it on this insignificant creature?

Could he turn this mole into something fearsome, something that could level entire cities?

But he shook his head, dismissing the idea. "Maybe tomorrow," he muttered to himself. "Once I figure out how to level up the tribe properly."

With a flick of his wrist, he released the mole, letting it scamper away into the underbrush.

Lyerin stood, his gaze following the mole until it disappeared from sight.

He continued his tour of the sanctuary, his steps slow and deliberate.

The plants around him swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling softly. chapter hosted on m,vle-mpyr

Some of the vines stretched high into the trees, their tendrils curling around the branches like serpents.

Flowers bloomed in clusters, their vibrant colors standing out against the dark, earthy tones of the stones and trees.

The air here was thick, humid, and it carried a sense of ancient life, of secrets hidden deep within the soil.

Lyerin's mind wandered again, contemplating the mysteries of this place, when a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

"Lyerin."

He turned, spotting Corora standing at the entrance of the sanctuary.

She walked toward him, her expression calm but with a hint of weariness. "The people are now accommodated," she said, her voice steady despite the obvious tension that still lingered between them.

Lyerin smiled, a slow, deliberate grin that spread across his face. "Good," he said, his tone low and satisfied. Everything was falling into place.

With a final glance at the sanctuary, Lyerin turned his back on it, finally, going to the ruined magical world again.