LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The panic set in almost immediately.

Velros and his Skyclaw Brotherhood had never faced anything like this before.

The Minotaur, now twice the size and anger, was bearing down on them, moving far faster than something its size had any right to.

Each heavy step of the beast reverberated through the twisting corridors of the maze, a deep, echoing sound that sent chills down the spines of even the most seasoned warriors among them.

Velros barked orders, his voice cutting through the panic. "Speed up! Use your magic! We have to outrun it!"

The birdmen of the Skyclaw Brotherhood, their wings flaring wide, each activated a win magic skill designed to boost their speed.

Immediately, their feet lifted from the ground, their forms becoming blurs of motion as they darted through the maze, faster than the eye could follow.

For a few heartbeats, hope bloomed in their chests.

They were the fastest beings in the skies—no grounded creature, not even a Minotaur, could keep pace with them once their speed magic kicked in.

But the labyrinthine maze twisted in unexpected ways, forcing them to make sharp turns, and the ever-present danger of hitting a dead end loomed.

Worse, the Minotaur was faster now, as if the transformation it had undergone wasn't just about size and strength—it had become more agile, more deadly.

With each roar, the beast gained on them, smashing through walls when it needed to, creating its own path through the maze.

They needed more than speed—they needed a way to slow it down.

"Someone, cast a delaying spell!"

Velros shouted over the noise of crashing stone and the heavy breathing of his comrades.

His second-in-command, a swift-winged birdman named Garrik, extended a hand, summoning a burst of magic that created a shimmering barrier in the path of the charging Minotaur.

For a split second, the Minotaur hesitated, colliding with the barrier.

It staggered back, letting out an enraged bellow, but the barrier wasn't enough to hold the beast for long.

With one massive swing of its club, the Minotaur shattered the magical wall, reducing it to a glittering cascade of energy. But that brief moment of delay was all the Skyclaw Brotherhood needed to gain some ground.

Velros turned to check on his men.

They were all panting hard, their wings working furiously as they zoomed through the tight corridors of the maze.

Sweat trickled down their faces, and the strain of using so much magic so quickly was beginning to show. But they were still alive. They were still moving.

"Keep going!" Velros urged, his eyes darting around for any escape route, any opening they could use to outmaneuver the Minotaur.

One of the birdmen, gasping for breath, glanced at Velros with wide eyes. "Captain, how long can we keep this up? We've already used our speeding magic once... we can't use it again!"

Velros clenched his jaw. He knew that. The maze was merciless.

It didn't allow for the same tricks to work twice.

Once they used a magic skill, it was gone, barred from their arsenal. But fortunately, their speed wasn't just limited to a single spell.

They had an arsenal of speed-boosting magic, different techniques, and ways to manipulate the wind.

"Don't worry," Velros called back. "We've got more where that came from! We're the Skyclaw Brotherhood! Keep pushing, and we'll outfly that beast!"

The birdmen nodded, drawing on their reserve spells, and once again their speed increased.

They shot forward like arrows, the walls of the maze blurring as they raced ahead.

For a moment, it seemed like they had finally put some distance between themselves and the Minotaur.

But Velros knew better than to let his guard down.

Every moment in this maze had been a struggle, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something worse was coming.

Suddenly, Garrik shouted, "It's slowing down!"

Velros turned his head just in time to see the Minotaur's form growing smaller in the distance, its heavy footfalls becoming quieter.

Relief escape from their breaths.

For now, they had escaped.

The birdmen allowed themselves a moment to breathe, to gather their strength.

They hovered in place, their wings beating gently as they caught their breath.

"Finally, it's gone," one of the birdmen said, his voice trembling with exhaustion.

Velros, though, wasn't ready to celebrate just yet. His instincts screamed that they weren't out of danger.

This maze had thrown too many tricks at them already. He took a deep breath, scanning their surroundings, searching for the next threat.

That's when he felt it. A tension in the air. The familiar, oppressive weight of something lurking ahead.

The birdmen, still recovering, noticed it too.

The air around them seemed thicker, heavier. And then they heard it—a rumble, not from behind this time, but from in front of them.

Velros's eyes narrowed, and he motioned for his warriors to form up.

The maze twisted before them, and as they rounded the corner, their hearts sank.

An army of Pig Orcs stood before them.

The Pig Orcs were lined up in formation, their grotesque snouts snorting in unison, their eyes glowing with a sickly yellow light.

Each one of them was armed to the teeth—axes, spears, clubs.

Their bodies were larger than the average orcs they had fought before, their muscles rippling beneath their coarse fur. They looked like an unstoppable tide of destruction, waiting for the command to charge.

Velros's heart pounded in his chest. He had expected danger, but this... this was more than he could have imagined.

His wings twitched as he scanned the sheer number of enemies.

There were hundreds, maybe more. And they were standing between him and his brotherhood's only way out.

"What... what do we do?"

Garrik's voice was shaky, and Velros could hear the fear in it. His second-in-command was usually unflappable, but the situation was starting to fray even the steadiest of nerves.

Velros looked at the Pig Orcs, their thick bodies packed tightly together, forming a wall of flesh and steel. His mind raced.

They had managed to outrun the Minotaur, but they had used a significant portion of their magic to do it. And now, they faced a similar challenge.

They couldn't go back—the Minotaur was still behind them, its roars echoing faintly in the distance. But moving forward seemed impossible.

"We fight," Velros said after a moment, his voice cold and steady. "We fight our way through."

There was a long silence as his warriors processed his words.

They all knew the odds were stacked against them.

They were tired, their magic reserves were low, and they were facing an army that outnumbered them several times over. But they were the Skyclaw Brotherhood. They had never backed down from a fight before.

"We have no choice," Velros continued, gripping his blade tightly. "If we stay here, we die. If we go back, we die. The only way is through."

The birdmen, though visibly shaken, straightened their backs and prepared for battle.

Even in the face of overwhelming odds, they wouldn't give up.

They were warriors—proud, fearless, and unyielding.

But just as they readied themselves for the fight of their lives, something changed. Velros felt it first, a sudden, suffocating sense of dread.

The Pig Orcs didn't move.

They just stood there, blocking the path.

Their snorts grew louder, their eyes burning brighter. And then, without warning, a deep, guttural roar echoed through the maze—the Minotaur!

Velros's eyes widened. No. Not again.

From behind them, the sound of the Minotaur's footfalls grew closer.

It was catching up, faster than ever before. And in front of them, the Pig Orcs remained like an impenetrable wall.

"We have no choice..." Velros whispered, his heart sinking as the situation closed in on them from both sides.

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com