LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The valley stretched out before the Stonehooves Tribe like a sea of chaos.

There were countless Valley Orcs—pig-like creatures with brutish strength, leathery skin, and tusks protruding from their mouths—surrounding the tribe.

These Orcs, known for their mindless savagery, snarled and snorted, but they didn't advance.

None of them dared to move forward.

It wasn't because of the warriors of the tribe or the barriers set around the camp.

No, it was something far more primal that kept them at bay.

The Minotaur stood at the entrance to the valley, its hulking form towering over everything around it.

Muscles rippled beneath its thick hide, and its massive horns gleamed under the dim light of the overcast sky.

The air around it seemed to hum with tension.

The Orcs, who typically feared nothing, hesitated.

They seemed to recognize the beast that now stood in their way.

On the Minotaur's broad shoulder sat Lyerin, his legs swinging casually as though he were perched on a throne.

He looked down at the sea of Orcs with a calm, calculating gaze.

His lips curled into a smile as he observed their hesitation.

He tilted his head back slightly and gazed up at the cloudy sky.

He couldn't see the Asura or the six-armed shadows that watched from the other realm, but he knew they were there.

They were always watching.

He could almost feel their eyes on him, judging, waiting, analyzing his every move.

In his past life, though Lyerin had been a weak, lonely scavenger, he had seen an event like this unfold.

He had watched from the shadows as a random tribe from an unknown world captured the spirit of a Minotaur and made it their own, using its power to crush their enemies.

He had marveled at the audacity and brilliance of that move, a strategy that no one had expected.

And now, he had done the same.

Lyerin grinned widely, feeling a sense of elation bubbling up inside him.

The Stonehooves Tribe had been chosen for this game—this twisted, violent contest orchestrated by the Asura and their demonic overseers. But instead of dreading it, he was thankful.

This was his opportunity to take control, to seize a power that would allow him to rise above the others.

"Ha," he chuckled to himself, "I really should thank them for choosing me."

But even as his heart swelled with satisfaction, Lyerin's expression hardened.

He couldn't allow himself to become too comfortable, not yet. He knew how these games worked.

The moment a tribe gained too much power, the Asura would turn the other participants against them.

Every single competitor would see Lyerin's tribe as a threat now that they had a Minotaur spirit.

The Asura girl, he knew, would be whipping the others into a frenzy, encouraging them to shift their focus to the Stonehooves Tribe.

The other participants would come for him, each of them desperate to destroy his tribe and claim victory for themselves.

"I need to deal with them first," Lyerin muttered, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the Orcs in the distance. "Before they get a chance to gang up on me."

However, when he said this, his eyes looked different. It was as if he wasn't looking at the Orcs but somewhere far away.

Lyerin stood up on the Minotaur's shoulder, raising one hand to his forehead as if saluting the unseen forces watching him from above.

"Let's get this started, shall we?"

---

Meanwhile, on Earth, the Asura girl hovered above the arena, her sharp eyes darting from one screen to the next as she observed the various participants struggling against the first wave of the game.

The Valley Orcs were relentless, their sheer numbers and brute strength overwhelming many of the tribes caught in their path.

"Look at that!" she exclaimed, her voice crackling with excitement as she zoomed in on one of the screens.

"The Ironmaul Clan—they thought their defensive walls would hold against the Orcs, but look! Those Raging Pigs are tearing them apart!"

The screen showed a group of warriors from the Ironmaul Clan desperately trying to hold the line as the Orcs slammed into their defenses.

The sound of wood splintering and metal clashing echoed across the battlefield as the pig-like creatures bashed their way through barricades, swinging massive clubs and axes with reckless abandon.

The Earthlings watching the broadcast gasped as one of the Ironmaul warriors was lifted off the ground by a hulking Orc, only to be smashed into the dirt with a sickening thud.

The camera panned to another screen. "And over here, the Brutarians Tribe is trying to regroup, but the Orcs aren't giving them a moment of peace! See how they swarm them? It's like a tidal wave of flesh and fury!"

The Brutarians warriors were scattered across a forested area, their formations broken by the relentless assault of the Valley Orcs.

Blood splattered the trees as the Orcs barreled through the undergrowth, their tusks gnashing and their fists pummeling anything in their way.

The Earthlings watching from the safety of their homes recoiled in horror as one of the Brutarians warriors was gored by an Orc's tusk, his body tossed aside like a ragdoll.

"This is brutal!" the Asura girl laughed, her voice full of delight as she reveled in the carnage.

"The Orcs are absolutely ruthless! Look at them go! Each of these tribes thought they were ready for this, but none of them expected the ferocity of the Valley Orcs!"

The Earthlings watching the live stream could hardly believe what they were seeing.

This wasn't just a game.

This was war.

Real war, with blood and death and terror.

The brutal nature of the Orcs left a sickening feeling in their stomachs.

Some couldn't tear their eyes away from the screens, while others turned away, unable to watch any more of the violence.

Back in the arena, the Asura girl shifted her focus once again. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she zoomed in on a particular tribe.

"And now... oh, now it's time for the real show. Look at this, everyone! The Stonehooves Tribe—they're next on the chopping block!"

The screen shifted to show the Valley Orcs amassing outside the Stonehooves Tribe's territory. But unlike the other tribes, the Orcs weren't attacking.

Instead, they stood frozen, their beady eyes fixed on the figure of the Minotaur standing before them.

The Asura girl raised an eyebrow. "What's this? They're hesitating? Are they... afraid?"

She zoomed in closer, her gaze locking onto the figure of Lyerin sitting atop the Minotaur's shoulder.

He was smiling, almost as if he were mocking the Orcs for their hesitation.

"Interesting," the Asura girl muttered, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

"Very interesting. The Valley Orcs are usually fearless, but it seems even they know better than to charge headfirst into a Minotaur. But let's see how long that lasts. They'll attack soon enough. And when they do..."

She threw her arms out wide, her voice rising to a fever pitch. "THEY'LL CRUSH THE STONEHOOVES TRIBE! Get ready, everyone! This is going to be a bloodbath!"

The Earthlings watching the broadcast leaned forward in their seats, their hearts pounding with anticipation.

Would Lyerin's tribe be able to withstand the coming onslaught?

Or would the Valley Orcs tear them apart like they had with the other tribes?

As the camera panned out, showing the tension building between the Orcs and the Stonehooves Tribe, one thing was certain: the real battle was just beginning.