LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

In the distant skies of the planet Zordrix, the air grew still.

The once-thunderous cheers of the Jaldir people—the proud race who had placed their hopes in the Skyclaw Brotherhood—died in their throats.

Their eyes, wide with disbelief, were fixed on the swirling projections in the sky, showing the scene of devastation in the maze.

There, their hero, Velros Skybreaker, the unstoppable leader of the Skyclaw Brotherhood, had fallen.

The mighty Minotaur's club had struck him down, and his body lay motionless, crumpled under the force of the blow.

Gasps erupted through the crowd.

Mothers clutched their children, shielding their faces from the horror of what they had just witnessed.

The elderly Jaldir, who had once proudly told tales of Velros's rise to glory, stood silent, their lips quivering, unable to process what they had just seen.

"Velros..." one of them whispered, barely audible. "It can't be..."

High above, in one of the grand ceremonial towers of Zordrix, the Asura girl, who had been narrating the battle with fierce enthusiasm, was struck dumb.

The instrument she had been playing—a delicate wind device used to narrate victories—slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor.

Her voice, once so lively, was now silent, her mouth agape.

She stared at the screen in disbelief.

How could this have happened?

How could the mighty Velros have fallen?

Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire world had tilted on its axis.

"No... No!" she finally screamed, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. "Velros! Get up!"

But there was no movement. No stirring from the Skyclaw leader.

The rest of the Skyclaw Brotherhood scattered like leaves in the wind, running from the monstrous Minotaur.

It was chaos.

Their formation was broken. Without their leader, they were lost, each warrior fighting desperately for survival.

The Jaldir people erupted in screams of agony and disbelief.

"How could this happen?" one of them cried, their voice filled with despair.

"They were supposed to win!" another shouted, shaking their fists at the projection in the sky as though sheer will could bring Velros back. "They were the strongest! They were unbeatable!"

A young Jaldir girl, tears streaming down her face, clung to her father's arm. "Father... what will happen now? Without Velros, how can they win?"

Her father, who had been a warrior himself once, shook his head, his face pale and stricken with grief. "Without their leader... they are as good as lost."

The atmosphere grew heavy with sorrow. The Skyclaw Brotherhood, their pride and joy, their champions, had fallen.

It was not just Velros who had died—it was their hope, their faith in victory, their dreams of seeing their race stand triumphant at the end of this brutal survival event.

In the silence that followed, some dropped to their knees, praying for a miracle.

Others turned away from the sky, unable to bear the sight any longer.

Their idol, the symbol of their strength, had been snuffed out before their eyes. It was too much to bear.

---

Far away, in the shadowy realm where the Overseer and the six-armed shadow figures watched the events unfold, there was no such grief.

There was only cold, calculating analysis.

The Overseer sat upon his dark throne, a satisfied smirk curling his lips.

His eyes glowed faintly as he reviewed the scene where Velros had fallen, and the remnants of the Skyclaw Brotherhood scrambled for survival.

"Well, well," the Overseer said, his voice a slow, deep rumble. "It seems the inevitable has come to pass."

The six-armed shadows gathered around him murmured in agreement, though there was an edge of surprise to their voices.

One of them, the tallest, stepped forward, their six arms folding neatly across their chest.

"I must admit, Overseer, I didn't expect it to happen so quickly. The Skyclaw Brotherhood... I thought they might last longer."

The Overseer tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Lyerin is not to be underestimated. He has played his cards well."

Another of the six-armed figures shook their head in disbelief.

"Lyerin... that cunning beast. To think he orchestrated this entire sequence, laying the trap so perfectly. The Birdmen thought they could outfly the maze. They thought they could outsmart the Minotaur."

The figure chuckled, a hollow sound. "But they were fools. Lyerin knew how to break them. He knew how to make them believe they had a chance, only to snatch it away at the last moment."

A chorus of voices erupted among the shadows.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" one exclaimed, clapping their hands in slow, exaggerated applause.

"Lyerin has proven himself far more devious than I ever anticipated. To take down the Skyclaw Brotherhood... the pride of the Jaldir... It's no small feat!"

"More than devious," another shadow hissed, their voice laced with both awe and fear.

"Lyerin is terrifying! He lured them in, let them think they could escape, only to crush them with the Minotaur's power. The way that beast evolved, adapted... It was as though Lyerin knew every step they would take before they made it!"

"I've never seen such a display of cunning!" another one marveled. "The way he manipulated the maze, the creatures... It's like he's playing a game no one else understands."

"Indeed," the Overseer purred, leaning forward. "Lyerin is... special. His intelligence, his ability to strategize... It's what sets him apart. He doesn't just rely on brute strength like the others.

He thinks. He plans. He sees the long game."

The six-armed shadows nodded fervently, their admiration for Lyerin growing with every word.

"He's dangerous," one of them whispered. "So dangerous... I can hardly believe the other tribes haven't realized it yet."

"They will soon enough," the Overseer replied, his eyes gleaming.

"Lyerin is a force to be reckoned with. And now, with the Skyclaw Brotherhood broken... the tide of this survival event has shifted. He is no longer just another player. He is a master of this deadly game."

The six-armed figures exchanged uneasy glances, their admiration for Lyerin mingling with a growing sense of dread. One of them spoke hesitantly.

"If Lyerin continues like this... there may be no one left to stand against him."

The Overseer chuckled softly. "Exactly. Which is why I find him so... delightful."

---

Back on Earth, the humans who had been watching the event unfold on their screens were left in stunned silence.

The fall of the Skyclaw Brotherhood had been broadcast worldwide, and the shockwaves of their defeat rippled through every household, every city.

The Earth's Asura girl, who had been narrating the event for her people, sat in disbelief.

Her usually animated expression was frozen in shock, her lips parted as though she had been cut off mid-sentence.

"The Skyclaw Brotherhood..." she muttered, barely able to believe it. "They were supposed to win... They were supposed to lead the charge against the Stonehooves Tribe..."

But instead, it was the Skyclaw Brotherhood that had fallen.

Not the Stonehooves Tribe.

The mighty Birdmen, once the highest prospect of victory, were now in tatters.

Their leader, Velros, was dead, and without him, their chances of survival seemed slim.

The people of Earth were just as stunned. Families gathered around their screens, mouths agape, unsure of what to say.

The tables had turned so suddenly, so violently, that it left them reeling.

"Does this mean... we have a chance now?" one voice muttered in the silence.

The Asura girl blinked, shaking her head as she tried to compose herself.

"Yes... yes, this could be the opening we needed. With the Skyclaw Brotherhood weakened, Earth's representative... they may have a chance now. But... we cannot forget about Lyerin."

She turned her gaze back to the screen, her voice trembling. "Because if Lyerin is truly the one behind this... then our real battle has only just begun."

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