LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Lyerin said nothing.

He stood there, his gaze fixed on the portal as though he were evaluating a piece of art. The soldiers fidgeted nervously, their questions growing louder as they turned to him for answers.

But he remained silent.

Seconds stretched into what felt like hours, the weight of his silence bearing down on them like a physical force. The soldiers exchanged uncertain glances, their anxiety mounting with every passing moment.

Finally, Lyerin shifted his weight, his crimson eyes gleaming with faint amusement as he looked over his shoulder at the gathered crowd. He raised a hand, and with a single gesture, the murmurs ceased.

"It's a portal," he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, as though the answer had been obvious all along.

The soldiers stared at him, their expressions a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"A portal?" one of them repeated, his brow furrowing. "To where?"

Another chimed in, his voice rising with panic. "What's on the other side? Is it safe?"

"Did you create it?" someone else asked, their tone tinged with suspicion.

Lyerin didn't answer.

He turned back to the portal, his expression unreadable.

The vortex swirled and pulsed before him, its light reflecting off his pale skin and dark clothing. His silence only served to heighten the tension, the soldiers shifting uneasily as they waited for him to speak.

And then, just as the tension threatened to boil over, he spoke again.

"It's a portal to Earth," Lyerin said, his voice low and deliberate, each word carrying an undeniable weight.

The camp erupted into chaos.

"Earth?"

"A way home?"

"After all this time?"

The soldiers' voices overlapped in a cacophony of disbelief, hope, and suspicion.

Some stared at the portal with wide, unblinking eyes, their hands trembling as though they might reach out and touch it. Others turned to Lyerin, their expressions demanding more answers.

But Lyerin said no more.

He stepped aside, his posture relaxed, as if he had no interest in the spectacle unfolding around him.

The soldiers swarmed closer to the portal, their movements hesitant and disjointed, like moths drawn to a flame they didn't fully trust.

In their minds, questions swirled and collided: Was this their way back? Could they finally leave this cursed world? Or was this yet another game, another trap set by the enigmatic man who seemed to delight in toying with their fates?

Lyerin stood on the outskirts of the chaos, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at his lips.

And as the portal pulsed and crackled, casting its otherworldly glow across the camp, the soldiers' confusion only deepened.

…n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The camp was alive with a kind of energy it hadn't seen in years.

Soldiers who had spent countless days and nights locked in the monotonous grind of survival, their spirits ground down by hardship, suddenly found themselves buoyed by a flicker of hope.

Conversations that were once hushed, limited to murmurs around dimly lit fires, now erupted into lively debates and cheers.

The portal's light bathed the camp in an ethereal glow, and its otherworldly presence seemed to awaken something primal in the soldiers—a yearning, a belief that after all they had endured, their salvation was finally at hand.

Men and women who had been stoic for so long, hardened by battles both physical and psychological, began to soften.

Laughter—real, unrestrained laughter—rippled through the air, strange and almost foreign to those who had long forgotten its sound.

Groups gathered in huddles, gesturing animatedly as they speculated on what this could mean.

Could this truly be it?

A way back?

Some soldiers fell to their knees, gazing at the swirling portal with reverence, their lips moving silently in prayers to gods they hadn't spoken to in years.

Others slapped each other on the back, their faces split with wide grins, as though they had already stepped through the portal and tasted the fresh air of their home world.

The air was thick with emotion, a potent cocktail of disbelief, euphoria, and pent-up longing that spilled over in waves.

"We're finally going home!" one soldier exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion. He grabbed the shoulders of the man beside him and shook him with a ferocity born of pure, unfiltered joy. "Do you hear me? Home! Earth! We're going back!"

"After all this time…" another muttered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she clutched a small locket that hung around her neck.

Inside it was a faded picture of her family, the edges worn from years of handling.

She pressed it to her lips, whispering their names like a mantra, as though the portal had already bridged the chasm between her and the ones she had lost.

The excitement spread like wildfire. Soldiers who had once been too afraid to dream, too afraid to hope, were now speaking with a confidence that bordered on reckless.

"Lyerin will take us back," they said to one another, their words gaining momentum as they were passed from group to group. "He's finally done it. He's opened the way."

"Of course he'll take us back," another chimed in. "Why else would he create this portal? He wouldn't just leave us here. He's been planning this all along."

The sentiment grew louder, more pervasive, until it was no longer a question but a statement of fact. Lyerin was their savior, their guide back to Earth. They began to cheer his name, their voices rising in unison like a battle cry.

"Lyerin! Lyerin! Lyerin!"

In the midst of the celebration, a small group of soldiers broke into song.

It was an old tune, one that had been passed down through their ranks, its lyrics filled with tales of home and hearth, of green fields and blue skies.

Others joined in, their voices raw and imperfect but brimming with emotion. The song echoed through the camp, mingling with the crackle of the portal and the sound of laughter and cheers.

But not everyone joined in the jubilation.

A few soldiers hung back, their faces marked with caution and doubt.

They exchanged uneasy glances, their arms crossed as they watched the festivities unfold.

"This is too convenient," one muttered under his breath. "Lyerin doesn't do anything without a reason. What's his angle?"

"Yeah," another agreed. "He's been toying with us for years. Why would he just… let us go now? What's in it for him?"

Their doubts, however, were drowned out by the overwhelming wave of optimism that had gripped the majority of the camp.

The celebrations grew wilder, more uninhibited. Soldiers passed around flasks of moonshine, toasting to their impending return. They danced around the portal, their movements uncoordinated but joyful, their laughter ringing out into the night.

In the midst of it all, Lyerin appeared, his presence commanding as he strode into the center of the camp. The soldiers quieted as they noticed him, their cheers dying down into murmurs of excitement and anticipation.

He stood there, his crimson eyes surveying the crowd with an inscrutable expression. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of his silence settle over them like a thick fog. The soldiers watched him expectantly, their faces alight with hope.

Finally, one of them spoke up, his voice trembling with emotion. "Chief… we're ready. We're ready to go back to Earth."

Another stepped forward, her voice steady and confident. "Thank you, Chief. Thank you for giving us this chance. We'll never forget what you've done for us."

Others joined in, their voices overlapping as they poured out their gratitude and excitement. "You've saved us." "We owe you everything." "When do we leave?"

Lyerin raised a hand, and the camp fell silent once more.

He looked at them, his gaze sharp and piercing, cutting through the crowd like a blade. And then, with a voice as smooth and cold as steel, he asked, "Who says I'm taking you back to Earth?" Experience new tales on empire

The question hung in the air, a dagger plunged into the heart of their celebration.

The soldiers froze, their smiles faltering as confusion and disbelief rippled through their ranks. The camp, which had been so alive with joy and hope just moments before, was now eerily silent.

Lyerin's lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile, but his eyes held no warmth. "Well?" he prompted, his tone almost mocking. "Who told you I would do such a thing?"

The soldiers stared at him, their faces pale and their eyes wide with shock. The weight of his words settled over them like a heavy shroud, suffocating the fragile hope that had burned so brightly.

And Lyerin just stood there, his smile never faltering, as though he were savoring their despair like a fine wine.