LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The air inside the fortified walls of the settlement was thick with anticipation. Soldiers stood in orderly lines, their eyes glinting with discipline, though a shadow of curiosity flickered beneath their stoic exteriors.

The towering presence of Commander Lucas, now positioned beside Lyerin, commanded respect among the ranks, but it was clear that Lyerin himself was the real power in this equation.

His aura was impossible to ignore, radiating a casual authority that demanded both fear and awe.

Lyerin stood at the center of the assembly, a picture of poise and refinement.

His golden eyes swept over the gathered soldiers, his expression calm yet unreadable, as if every move he made was part of some grand design only he understood.

The harsh, flickering light of the torches lining the perimeter cast shadows across his features, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and giving him an almost otherworldly glow.

Behind him, Donovan, Theran, Miriam, Mikhail, and the Younger Woman lingered in silence, their battered bodies trembling under the weight of unspoken fear.

They dared not move, not even as their bruised legs threatened to give out beneath them.

Every glance from Lyerin was like a dagger aimed at their hearts, and every word he spoke felt like a prelude to yet another twist in his cruel game.

"Commander Lucas," Lyerin began, his voice smooth and deliberate, carrying effortlessly across the gathered crowd.

He gestured toward the soldiers standing at attention, his lips curving into a polite but enigmatic smile. "You've done well to maintain order here. The fortifications, the resources, the discipline of your men—it's commendable. Truly."

Lucas inclined his head, his expression betraying a flicker of pride. "We exist to serve, sir. Whatever you require, we will provide."

"I was counting on that," Lyerin said, his tone light, almost playful. He took a step forward, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace slowly before the ranks of soldiers.

"Today, I will require all of you to participate in a ritual of great importance. A ritual that will…" He paused, turning to glance at Donovan and the others, his smile deepening as if savoring some private joke. "…liberate these poor souls from the chains of their enslavement."

The words sent a ripple of confusion through the ranks.

The soldiers shifted uneasily, their murmurs barely audible, but Lucas quickly silenced them with a sharp bark. "Quiet!"

Lyerin chuckled softly, the sound low and amused. "Now, now, Commander. Let them wonder. After all, this is not an ordinary task." He stopped pacing, turning to face Lucas directly.

"I will need twelve of your finest men—strong in body, disciplined in mind. They will stand as the cornerstones of the ritual."

Lucas frowned slightly but nodded. "As you wish. I will select them myself."

"Good." Lyerin's gaze swept back to the soldiers. "The rest of you will form a perimeter around the ritual site. No one is to approach or interfere once the process begins. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the soldiers replied in unison, their voices ringing out like the clash of swords.

"Excellent." Lyerin's smile widened, though his eyes remained cold, detached. "Now, for the materials. I will need chalk, candles, and a sufficient supply of purified water. If there's none readily available, fetch me the cleanest you can find and I'll purify it myself. Additionally…"

He tilted his head slightly, his expression growing contemplative. "I'll require incense. Preferably something earthy—sage, if you have it."

Lucas immediately gestured for a nearby soldier to relay the orders. The man saluted and hurried off, his boots pounding against the ground.

"And finally," Lyerin continued, his voice dropping slightly, becoming almost conspiratorial.

"I will need absolute silence during the ritual. Not a single word. Not a single sound. Even the faintest disruption could compromise the entire process. Do you understand?"

Lucas nodded sharply. "Understood."

"Perfect." Lyerin clasped his hands together, his expression one of serene satisfaction. "You have twenty minutes to prepare. I suggest you use the time wisely."

The soldiers dispersed, moving with practiced efficiency to gather the necessary materials and prepare the ritual site.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The air buzzed with a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity.

Though they obeyed without question, it was clear that many of them were uneasy.

Rituals were not unfamiliar to them, but the presence of Lyerin, with his enigmatic demeanor and air of quiet menace, added an unsettling edge to the proceedings.

As the preparations unfolded, Lyerin turned his attention back to Donovan and the others.

His golden eyes locked onto each of them in turn, lingering just long enough to make their skin crawl. His smile remained, but there was a sharpness to it now, a predatory glint that made their hearts race.

"Well," he said softly, almost as if speaking to himself. "You must be wondering why I've gone to such lengths to… help you."

None of them dared to respond. Donovan's hands trembled at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to suppress the anger bubbling beneath the surface.

Theran shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting between Lyerin and the soldiers. Miriam and Mikhail exchanged nervous glances, their faces pale and drawn.

Even the Younger Woman, usually defiant, kept her head down, her jaw clenched tightly.

Lyerin's smile widened, his amusement evident. "Ah, I see. You're all too frightened to speak. How quaint."

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. "But let me assure you, my dear friends, your silence only makes this more… enjoyable for me." Find more to read at empire

Donovan's chest tightened as he met Lyerin's gaze, the weight of his fear battling against the urge to lash out. But he knew better.

They all did.

Lyerin's power was absolute, his games merciless. Any defiance would only serve to amuse him further.

Satisfied with their reactions, Lyerin turned on his heel and strode toward the ritual site, where the soldiers had begun arranging the materials.

Before he joined them, he glanced over his shoulder, his golden eyes gleaming with a dark promise.

"Fear not," he said, his voice carrying an edge of mockery. "By the time this is over, you'll have your answers."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Donovan and the others to grapple with their confusion and dread. They watched as Lyerin directed the soldiers, his movements precise and deliberate, his voice calm and authoritative.

The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last.

They didn't know what Lyerin's endgame was, but one thing was certain: whatever awaited them beyond this ritual would be no less terrifying than the journey that had brought them here.