LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Lyerin stood still as the notification hung before him, his mind racing with possibilities.

The evolutionary paths presented two clear options for his Cragar'Throm Clan: one would mold them into highly intelligent, tactical beasts, keen in their intellect but weaker in raw strength.

The other path, however, promised raw, unbridled power.

He paced back and forth, his thoughts tangled as he contemplated the choice. "The intelligence path," Lyerin muttered to himself, rubbing his chin. "They'd gain sharper minds, enhanced coordination... They'd think faster, adapt to situations better... perfect for strategic operations. And their magical abilities would increase too—mind control, telepathy, illusions...

yes, that would make them dangerous in a more subtle way, less reliant on brute strength and more on manipulation."

The idea intrigued him, and he let himself imagine it for a moment.

With intelligence, they could serve him as more than just blunt instruments of destruction. He could send them on delicate missions, infiltrating places where sheer force would be a liability.

They could outwit enemies, exploit weaknesses in their minds rather than just their bodies.

Lyerin knew how valuable cunning members could be—he had learned that the hard way, growing up with the Borgias family, where every move was calculated, every word spoken with intention.

With clever beasts under his control, the potential for their usefulness would be limitless.

Lyerin considered this carefully, pacing in a tight circle. "With their minds sharpened," he reasoned, "they could even act as my lieutenants in the future... perhaps even become something close to trusted allies. They'd be able to carry out more complex orders without me needing to micromanage them. I could establish a network of them... spies, infiltrators, even tacticians.

They'd blend into places where brute force would stand out like a sore thumb, and they'd be harder to detect. Smarter, more subtle... deadlier in a different way."

But then he paused, clenching his fist as doubt began to cloud his mind. "That's all well and good," he muttered, "but that isn't what I need right now. I don't need subtlety. I don't need delicate operations." He stopped pacing and looked around at the chaos he had wrought—the shredded flora, the bloodstains, the carnage left behind by his Cragar'Throm Clan.

"No," Lyerin said, shaking his head, "I need brute power. I need force that can overwhelm anyone who stands in my way. Intelligence won't help me tear through enemies like Lucius and Varus. They don't fear clever tricks—they fear overwhelming strength, raw and unstoppable. I don't need sneaky, slithering beasts right now... I need monsters who can rip them apart, limb by limb.

I need soldiers who can smash through any barrier, any defense, without a second thought. That's the kind of power I need to command—beasts that inspire fear just by their presence alone."

Lyerin's eyes gleamed with dark excitement. The vision of hulking, monstrous warriors tearing through his enemies filled his mind. "Raging Brutes," he whispered with a grin. "That's what I need. Beasts are so powerful that even magic can't stop them. Beasts that can crush bones with their bare hands, tear flesh apart with their teeth, and stampede through entire armies without slowing down.

The kind of monsters that make even seasoned warriors tremble when they hear their footsteps."

The Raging Brute path promised strength beyond reason.

Enhanced physical abilities, increased size, monstrous endurance, and aggression that would make them nearly unstoppable on the battlefield.

Their power would be enough to overwhelm almost any foe. Lyerin envisioned them growing larger, their muscles bulging, their limbs becoming thicker and stronger. "They'll be like juggernauts," he said aloud, almost tasting the satisfaction that would come with commanding such beasts. "Nothing will stop them—not swords, not arrows, not magic. They'll charge through anything and everything.

And they'll tear down anyone who stands in our way."

However, there were risks. Lyerin frowned as he thought about the vulnerabilities of this path. "But... they'll be susceptible to magic, especially manipulation. Mind control, illusions... it could be their downfall." He gritted his teeth, considering the consequences.

"If they're too enraged, too wild... they could be turned against me. And if a strong enough mage gets hold of them, they could become liabilities rather than assets. Losing control of them would be disastrous. They'd be like wildfires... powerful, but dangerous to contain."

Lyerin pondered this issue for a long time, his mind whirling with conflicting thoughts. The brute force was appealing—more than appealing, it was exactly what he wanted right now. But the susceptibility to magic… that was a real danger, especially if they came across powerful sorcerers or illusionists. "But..." Lyerin whispered to himself, his voice thoughtful, "I can compensate for that.

I can find ways to bolster their resistance to magic. I can add in safeguards, spells, equipment… maybe even some magic of my own. Once they reach their full potential, I'll have time to refine them further."

His lips curled into a confident smile. "And by the time they're fully evolved, I'll make sure no mage will ever get the chance to manipulate them. I'll make them into weapons of pure destruction—unstoppable, loyal only to me." Lyerin nodded to himself, his decision clear.

He took a deep breath and made the choice. "The Raging Brute path," he said aloud, sealing the evolution of his Cragar'Throm Clan. "I don't need intelligence. I need brute power, and that's exactly what I'll get."

As soon as the decision was made, the transformation began.

Some of the beasts that stood before Lyerin started to writhe and shift.

Their bodies twisted unnaturally, their muscles bulging, stretching, and growing larger by the second. Lyerin watched with a wide, almost manic grin as the slim, fat, and small creatures he had once known began to change into monstrous behemoths.

One by one, they grew taller, broader, and more terrifying.

The first to transform was a once-slim creature whose skin turned as tough as stone. Its muscles rippled beneath its thick hide as it grew larger, its limbs bulging with power. Its legs thickened, and its head, once hornless, sprouted vicious, sharp horns that curved like jagged spikes.

The creature's eyes glowed red with a feral intensity, and its teeth elongated into sharp fangs that protruded from its mouth.

Next, another beast that had once been fat and slow began to change.

Its body shrunk slightly, but its fat seemed to melt away, revealing thick, powerful muscles beneath. Its arms and legs grew proportionately longer and stronger, and its once-dull eyes now gleamed with a wild hunger for violence.

Its skin hardened into a leathery hide, and spikes erupted from its back, making it look like a living weapon of war.

The smallest of the beasts, one that had been frail and weak, underwent the most dramatic change. Its bones cracked and reformed, its limbs stretching out as its body filled with new muscle.

It grew nearly twice its original size, its skin turning dark and tough, covered in spiked ridges. Horns sprouted from its head, curling wickedly toward the back.

The creature's once-cautious demeanor was replaced by an overwhelming aura of bloodlust and aggression.

Lyerin stood back, watching with pride as each creature completed its transformation.

They were monstrous now—towering, muscular beasts with an air of invincibility about them.

Some resembled minotaurs with massive horns and hooves, while others were hornless but equally menacing, like their bodies were sculpted into deadly weapons of destruction.

Weapons that he can use.

Lyerin couldn't contain his excitement any longer and let out a laugh that echoed through the dungeon. His plan was coming together perfectly.

These creatures, these wild beasts he had transformed into hulking brutes, were exactly what he needed to tear through the Borgias family.

But suddenly, Lyerin felt a sharp jolt in his chest, like a sense of awareness that shot through his lungs like electricity.

Urrghh!

His senses tingled, and his eyes narrowed as he realized what had happened. Though there were many Cragar'Throm Clan members present, all connected to him, he could feel it—death.

Maybe, some of them had died. He is not sure.

Lyerin gritted his teeth, his mind racing. "Damn it," he muttered, frustration lacing his words. "The Borgias assassins… they must have targeted those who were still transforming. They were vulnerable." He cursed under his breath.

The Borgias were cunning, skilled assassins who always struck when their target was weakest.

But Lyerin had anticipated this, that's the reason why he tamed a whole lot of them even.

However, he couldn't but help but think his thoughts turned dark as he imagined what must have happened.

Borgias assassins were trained to strike quickly and without mercy, using whatever means necessary to take down their targets.

Yet now, he will hunt them one by one.