LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The tension in the air crackled as the old man sighed, his fierce gaze softening just slightly.

He shook his head and spoke with the weariness of someone who had seen too much. "No," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "We're leaving. There's no point in this."

He gestured to the group behind him, and they began to turn, shuffling away, their shoulders sagging under the weight of defeat.

For a brief moment, it seemed that the confrontation would end peacefully. But then, the man with the electrical charge—his eyes gleaming with anger—stopped in his tracks and spun back around.

His fists crackled with blue energy, the air around him humming with the raw, dangerous power surging through his veins.

"Before we go," the man snarled, his voice dripping with malice, "eat this!" With a swift motion, he launched himself at Lyerin, electricity sparking off his hands in a wild arc as he aimed a devastating blow straight at Lyerin's chest.

Lyerin, seeing the attack unfold, couldn't help but laugh internally.

It was a familiar ploy—an old tactic used by those who pretended to be weak, only to strike when their target least expected it.

He had seen it before, back when naive tones had been tricked by rogues acting like victims, only to stab them in the back at the first opportunity.

These people were no different.

They were trying to manipulate the women in his tribe—Corora, Cornelia, Maria, and the others—acting pitiful just to win their sympathy, only to take advantage of their kindness.

Just like what he always does.

And this time, it's obvious Lyerin won't fall for it.

No, this time, he was going to play along, just for fun. He grinned to himself as he allowed the electrical charge to hit him square in the chest.

The impact sent a shockwave through his body, but instead of pain, all he felt was a tickle.

The sparky man didn't know that Lyerin's mana reserves were as vast and deep as a Guardian Panther Beast of the Borgia Family—one of the most powerful creatures to ever walk the earth.

The blows that landed on him, no matter how fierce they seemed, were nothing more than a mild annoyance.

Lyerin stood his ground, letting the man continue his assault, each punch and blast of electricity hitting him with growing intensity. Yet, Lyerin didn't flinch.

The sparky man was relentless, cursing loudly as he struck Lyerin again and again, sweat pouring down his face as he put everything he had into the attack. Find joy in m-vlemp _yr.

"You arrogant bastard!" the man shouted, landing another charged punch across Lyerin's jaw. "You think you can just stand there and dictate terms to us?!"

Lyerin let out a low chuckle, the sound barely audible beneath the roar of electricity. His body barely moved with each hit, his smirk never fading.

To him, the sparky man's desperate attempts were like the efforts of an insect, futile and insignificant.

The man's frustration mounted with each punch. "Fight back!" he screamed, his voice cracking with the strain of his rage. "Come on, fight me!"

But Lyerin simply laughed. "Is that all you've got?" His voice was calm, mocking. "You hit like a child."

The sparky man's fury exploded, and he unleashed a torrent of energy, aiming it directly at Lyerin's chest, trying to pour everything he had into one final blow.

The ground around them trembled as the crackling blue light engulfed Lyerin, the force of the energy rippling through the air.

And yet, Lyerin only laughed harder.

The man stumbled back, panting, his body shaking from the exertion.

His fists still crackled with residual energy, but it was clear he had given everything he had.

Lyerin stood in front of him, completely unfazed, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're finished?" Lyerin asked mockingly. "I was just starting to enjoy myself."

Just as Lyerin was about to speak again, Corora, Cornelia, Maria, Elena, Sophia, Lydia, Fiona, Emily, and Natalie rushed forward, their expressions a mixture of fear and frustration.

"Stop!" Corora cried out, stepping between Lyerin and the sparky man. "Please, stop this! There's no need for more violence!"

The old man, along with the sparky man, immediately backed down as the girls intervened.

Lyerin could see the manipulation at play—the sparky man's feigned submission, the old man's calculated silence.

They were playing the victim now, trying to twist the narrative in their favor.

The old man's voice rose again, this time filled with righteous indignation. "This is your fault, you damn shit! You started all of this!"

The sparky man chimed in, still gasping for breath. "Yeah, it's all because of you! We were just defending ourselves. You attacked us first!"

Lyerin's gaze swept over the outsiders, and then he began to laugh—a deep, rumbling laugh that echoed across the clearing. His laughter grew louder, more unhinged, as he clutched his sides, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You people," Lyerin said, his voice dripping with mockery, "are the most shameless bunch of hypocrites I've ever encountered."

He took a step forward, his towering presence casting a long shadow over the sparky man and the old man.

"You come here, begging for food and shelter. You act like you're helpless, weak. And then, the moment you think you've won the girls over, you turn around and try to stab me in the back?"

His voice grew louder, more intense, as he let his frustration spill out.

"You try to play the victim, you act like you're being oppressed, but the truth is, you're just scavengers.

"Parasites.

"You came here not because you wanted peace, but because you wanted to take what isn't yours. And now, when your pathetic little plan fails, you have the audacity to stand there and blame me?"

The crowd of outsiders murmured among themselves, some of them shifting uncomfortably under Lyerin's piercing gaze. But Lyerin wasn't done yet.

"You people disgust me," he continued, his voice laced with venom. "You come here, thinking you can manipulate these girls, thinking you can twist the situation to make yourselves look like the heroes. But you're nothing. Nothing but leeches, feeding off of the hard work and sacrifice of others."

His eyes blazed with fury as he turned toward Corora and the others, his voice softening slightly.

"Are these the people you brought here? Are these the ones you thought would help us? Look at them. They can't even stand up for themselves without trying to trick us, without resorting to cowardly tactics."

Corora and the other girls stood there, speechless, their faces pale as they took in the gravity of Lyerin's words.

They had hoped to save these people, to give them a chance at survival, but now they were beginning to realize that they might have made a terrible mistake.

The old man, sensing that the tide was turning against him, tried to regain control of the situation. "I mean, you're misunderstanding—"

Lyerin cut him off with a sharp gesture. "No, you are the one who doesn't understand. You think you can come into my tribe, take what you want, and leave when it suits you. But I'm not going to let that happen."

He turned back to Corora, his eyes softening for just a moment. "These people aren't worth saving. They'll betray you the first chance they get. I've seen it before, and I won't let it happen again."

The old man clenched his fists, his face twisted with anger, but he said nothing.

Lyerin had made his point, and the crowd of outsiders was left standing in uneasy silence.

Finally, Lyerin's voice rang out again, cold and commanding.

"So tell me, are these the people you want in our tribe? Because if they are, you'd better be prepared for the consequences."

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