LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Chapter 237: Roaming

Lyerin led his ragtag group of tribe members, the hulking Pig Orcs, and the mismatched warriors of the Stonehooves Tribe out of the towering maze.

The massive stone walls that had once been home to the Minotaur spirit now served as a reminder of the tribe's power, but outside those walls lay the real threat.

The decayed remnants of Earth's cities stretched out before them like a wasteland, where monstrous creatures lurked in every shadow.

"Move out!"

Lyerin ordered, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

The Pig Orcs, enormous and grotesque in their forms, were already marching forward, their tusks glinting in the dim light, their eyes scanning for threats.

The rest of the tribe, armored in their scavenged gear, followed closely behind.

They were tense, some still unsure of their place, but Lyerin's confidence kept them moving.

As they walked, the silence of the ruined city was punctured by sudden screeches and growls.

Lyerin spotted a group of Fleshers ahead, the mindless, grotesque creatures of flesh and bone that roamed the Earth.

They were twitching, their limbs jerking unnaturally as if struggling against some invisible force.

They moved like broken marionettes, hunting anything with a pulse.

"Perfect," Lyerin muttered under his breath, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He gestured lazily toward the group of Fleshers. "Kill them."

Without hesitation, the Pig Orcs charged forward.

Their massive frames crashed through the rubble, their thick legs stomping with such force that the ground seemed to tremble beneath them.

Their crude weapons swung through the air, cleaving through the Fleshers with sickening efficiency.

Blood and torn flesh splattered across the cracked pavement as the Fleshers shrieked and fell, their limbs flying apart under the Pig Orcs' brutal assault.

The tribe members watched in awe, though some grimaced at the sight of the carnage.

Lyerin stood back, arms crossed, as the chaos unfolded before him.

"Throw the remains away," Lyerin commanded, his voice casual as though he were asking them to take out the trash.

His tribe moved quickly, gathering the mangled bodies of the Fleshers and tossing them aside.

Just as the last of the Flesher corpses was being discarded, the ground began to tremble.

Lyerin's sharp eyes flicked up, narrowing as a new presence emerged from the shadows.

A massive shape slithered forward from the darkness, and as it came into view, a collective gasp ran through the group.

The creature that appeared was like nothing they had seen before.

Its enormous, bulbous body was covered in thorny appendages that writhed like snakes, each thorn sharp enough to pierce through stone.

At the center of its grotesque form was a single, massive eye that pulsed with an eerie, glowing light.

It had an aura of ancient power, a primal beast from another world entirely.

"A Tentatorn," Lyerin whispered, recognizing the creature instantly. His eyes gleamed with interest.

This wasn't just some mindless monster like fleshers, it was the parasitic creature that was supremely intelligent too.

Right now, the Tentatorn was unlike the Tentatorn he met last time, it was now a true apex predator, and its strength was unmatched by anything in this decaying city.

The Tentatorn let out a low, guttural roar, the sound reverberating through the streets.

Its thorny tentacles shot out, wrapping around the remaining Fleshers in the area.

The moment its tendrils made contact with their flesh, the Fleshers were torn apart, their bodies ripped into shreds as if made of paper.

The Tentatorn's eye glowed brighter as it consumed the energy from their dying forms, growing larger, stronger with each kill.

Several of the tribe members stepped back in fear.

The Tentatorn wasn't like the weak Fleshers they had encountered.

It was a force of nature, and it was clear that if it wanted, it could tear through their ranks without breaking a sweat.

Lyerin, however, remained unfazed. He turned to one of the Pig Orcs, his gaze cold and calculating. "Deal with it."

The Pig Orc in question, a massive brute with tusks the size of small trees, snorted and hefted its enormous club.

It charged toward the Tentatorn without hesitation, the ground shaking under its weight.

The Tentatorn's tentacles lashed out, wrapping around the Pig Orc's arm and legs, but the Pig Orc roared and swung its club with immense force, smashing one of the Tentatorn's thorny appendages into pieces.

But the Tentatorn was far from finished.

The creature recoiled, its massive eye narrowing in rage.

With a violent thrash of its remaining tentacles, it whipped the Pig Orc into the air, slamming it into the ground with such force that the earth cracked beneath it.

The Pig Orc howled in pain, struggling to stand as the Tentatorn moved in for the kill, its tentacles closing in from all sides.

Lyerin watched with keen interest, not bothering to intervene.

He knew this was a true test of strength—both for the Pig Orc and the rest of his tribe. If they couldn't handle this, they had no place by his side.

The Pig Orc, battered but not beaten, roared again and surged to its feet. It tore at the Tentatorn's tentacles with its bare hands, ripping them apart one by one with raw strength. Read more tales on NovelFire-l-em,py-r

Blood spurted from the creature's wounds as the Pig Orc continued its relentless assault, swinging its club in wide arcs, each strike hitting with bone-crushing power.

The Tentatorn shrieked in agony, its massive eye darting frantically as its strength began to wane. But the Pig Orc showed no mercy.

With one final, earth-shattering swing, the Pig Orc's club came crashing down on the Tentatorn's head, splattering it across the ground in a gory explosion of flesh and thorns.

For a moment, silence filled the streets, broken only by the Pig Orc's heavy breathing and the distant sound of the wind.

The Tentatorn lay in a twisted heap, its once-mighty form reduced to a pile of unrecognizable goo.

Lyerin chuckled darkly, stepping forward to inspect the remains. His boots squelched in the muck as he approached the fallen creature.

"Take the crystal inside of it," he ordered, his voice calm and authoritative.

He knew that within the Tentatorn's body lay a rare and powerful crystal, one that could be used to enhance his tribe's abilities, after all, it was the main fuel to enter the ruined magical world.

With the size of the Tentatorn, Lyerin is sure that with this creature, the crystal would let him stay for a few years in that Ruined magic world.

This was why the Tentatorn had been so valuable-it wasn't just a dangerous beast, it was a treasure trove of power waiting to be harvested.

That is the reason why he let the other small Tentatorns go last time.

The tribe members hurried forward, carefully extracting the glowing crystal from the remains of the Tentatorn.

It pulsed with a deep, ominous light, like it was the tangible manifestation of the creature's strength.

As they finished, Lyerin received the crystal and happily took it to his pouch with him and then he turned to the group, with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"Good. We're just getting started."

He said, just relaxing while being carried by a Pig Orc under his command.