LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The booming laughter of the Blast Apes reverberated through the clearing, their deep, raspy chuckles echoing like rolling thunder.

"Harrr-harrr-harrr!"

The leader of the community, a massive, scarred ape with fur as dark as the midnight sky, guffawed alongside its kin. But amidst the raucous laughter, something gnawed at the back of the leader's mind.

It couldn't shake the uneasy feeling creeping up its spine. Its laughter began to taper off, and it glanced to the left, then to the right.

"Kurruuuughh?"

Nothing seemed amiss.

The other apes, intoxicated and blissfully unaware, continued to howl and pound their chests, thum, thum, thum, their bodies swaying from side to side.

The leader let out a soft grunt, shaking its head. Must be nothing, "Kururugh," it thought. It resumed laughing, though its voice was now more strained, forced even.

"Harrr-harrr-harrr!"

But the feeling didn't leave. If anything, it grew worse.

"Haruughh?"

The air around it felt thicker, heavier, as though some unseen presence lingered nearby, watching.

The apes closest to the leader were clearly intoxicated.

Their red eyes were half-lidded, their movements sluggish and uncoordinated. One stumbled forward with a goofy expression plastered on its face, nearly tripping over its own feet. Another swayed from side to side, a hiccuping grunt escaping its throat every few moments.

"Hucuprrgh!" "Hucuprrgh!"

They looked as though they had consumed more than their fill of some kind of potent brew, their normally keen senses dulled by the effects of whatever had been mixed into the air and drink.

Beside the leader, a large wooden jug filled with a thick, amber liquid sat unattended.

The leader, still feeling that strange sense of foreboding, reached out with a large, calloused hand to grab it. Its thick fingers wrapped around the jug's neck, and as it raised the container to its mouth, it froze.

A shadow moved in its peripheral vision.

The leader's head snapped to the side, and for the briefest of moments, it saw a figure standing in the darkness just outside the circle of laughing apes.

"Kraaugaah?"

The figure's face was partially obscured by shadow, but its eyes gleamed with an unsettling light.

The leader bared its fangs and let out a warning growl.

"Karuu-"

However, before it could act, the figure moved with blitzing speed, kicking the jug from the leader's hand.

Thuck!

The amber liquid splashed to the ground, paasshh, soaking into the dirt.

The leader's lips curled back in a snarl, fury blazin in its bloodshot eyes.

"Gurruuggh-"

It reached for the figure, ready to tear them apart, but the intruder was faster, and he was intoxicated.

In one swift move, the figure shoved something into the leader's gaping mouth. The leader's eyes widened in shock, immediately, its massive frame began jerking back as it tried to spit out whatever had been forced down its throat. But it was too late.

Boom!

The leader's head exploded in a burst of flesh and bone, sending blood and viscera splattering across the clearing.

The other apes froze mid-laugh, their bloodshot eyes widening in stunned silence. For a moment, there was only the sound of dripping blood and the faint echo of the explosion.

Lyerin slumped to the ground beside the leader's lifeless body and his chest were heaving with exhaustion. His breaths also came in ragged gasps, with his face pale and streaked with sweat. He wiped a trembling hand across his forehead, feeling the familiar burn of exhaustion in his limbs.

The plan had worked, but it had taken more out of him than he had thought.

The wind shifted suddenly, carrying with it a familiar voice.

It was soft at first, like the whisper of a breeze, but soon it grew louder, more distinct.

"You could've just hidden, you know," the voice said, its tone almost amused. "After they killed your tribe members, you could've slipped away quietly. But instead, you came here, to these monkey communities, and did this. Is it to show me what you're capable of?"

Lyerin didn't turn to face the voice. He didn't need to. He knew exactly who it belonged to. Lord Victor.

Lyerin's eyes remained fixed on the intoxicated Blast Apes, who had begun to stir from their shock but still remained largely unaware of the impending danger. He forced himself to sit upright, his face set in an expression of calm determination.

"Kinda," Lyerin replied, his voice steady despite the weariness in his body.

Lord Victor's laughter echoed through the clearing, they sounded loud with mocking tone in it.

The sound grated against Lyerin's nerves, but he remained still, staring straight ahead. After what felt like an eternity, the laughter finally died down, and Lord Victor spoke again.

"Here," Lord Victor said, his tone laced with amusement.

A soft metallic ting sounded as something flew through the air.

Lyerin's hand shot up reflexively, catching the small object before it hit the ground. He looked down at his palm and furrowed his brow. In his hand was a coin, but not just any coin. The design had changed. Where once there had been a silver insignia, now there was a golden panther etched into the dark metal.

"Hmmm?" Lyerin muttered, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the coin.

The weight of it in his hand felt different, heavier, as though it carried more significance than before. He knew this. Is this for real? He glanced up, searching for Lord Victor, but the figure was already gone.

The clearing was empty except for the drunken Blast Apes and the lingering scent of blood and sweat.

Before Lyerin could fully process what had just happened, a brilliant magic circle materialized beneath his feet. Its intricate symbols glowed with an ethereal light, and Lyerin's heart skipped a beat. He recognized the spell. He had seen it used before. Before he was sent here.

"Swoosh!"

A sudden gust of wind whipped around him, and Lyerin felt his body being pulled into the circle. He struggled to resist, reaching out to grab onto something, anything, to anchor himself in place. But the force of the spell was too strong.

"Wait!" Lyerin shouted, his voice strained. "The Blast Apes—"

His words were cut off as the magic swallowed him whole, the world around him dissolving into a blur of colors and light. He felt a wrenching sensation in his gut, his body spinning through the ether, before he was unceremoniously dumped onto a cold, hard surface.

Lyerin groaned as he pushed himself up, blinking against the sudden change in light. He recognized the familiar stone floor of the dungeon. He was back.

"Damn it!" Lyerin cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth in frustration. He had spent all that time, gone through all that trouble, just to tame those damn Blast Apes, and now it was all gone in an instant. He clenched his fists, seething with rage. That damn bastard Lord Victor!

But as his anger slowly ebbed, Lyerin's gaze fell on the coin still clutched in his hand. Its weight felt even more significant now, and he knew what it represented. The coin would give him access to areas and resources that were closed off to outsiders. It was precisely why he had ventured into the Blast Ape community in the first place. Why he fooled Victor.

Also one of the reasons why he pretended he wanted to enter the Borgias family main clan. And now, despite Lord Victor's meddling, he had the key to unlock those hidden places.

Lyerin exhaled sharply, his mind was thinking rapidly. There was still much to be done, much to be gained. He couldn't afford to waste time being angry. His goal was far from complete.

As if on cue, Lord Victor's voice echoed through the dungeon once more, disembodied and cold.

"I've taken thirty tribe members for my experiments," Lord Victor said, his voice laced with indifference. "Just thought you should know."

Lyerin's jaw tightened, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the coin even harder. He cursed Lord Victor silently, the rage bubbling up once again. One day, he swore, once he had gained enough power—once he had reached the sixth level of his tribe—he would enslave that arrogant bastard. He would bend him to his will and make him pay for everything.

But for now, there were other matters to attend to. Lyerin pocketed the coin and pushed himself to his feet. He couldn't stay here any longer. His tribe needed him.

Slowly, Lyerin teleported himself back and his Tribal mana beast members back to his tribe, gathering what remained of his people. Once he had them, he teleported again, this time to the heart of Borgias, the sprawling city where anything could be bought for the right price.

Inside the city, Lyerin blended in the populace. He made his way through the crowded markets, purchasing supplies, weapons, and resources in bulk. He spared no expense, using the coin to gain access to the rarest items that only the elite could acquire.

Every purchase brought him closer to his goal. Every transaction was a step toward rebuilding his plan.

By the time he returned to his tribe, night had fallen, and the stars glittered like diamonds against the velvet sky.

Lyerin stood at the edge of his tribe's territory, looking out over the small village he planned to rebuild from the ashes. He could hear the soft growls of his people as they settled in for the night, with their spirits slowly healing after everything they had endured.

A rare smile crossed Lyerin's face, and he felt a flicker of hope ignite in his chest. Finally, he thought. Finally, I can create a tribe in the real world.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes gleaming with desire. This was only the beginning.

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