LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Chapter 254: Thunder Bats

The government's temporary oath had barely dried when Lyerin found himself surrounded by his new tribe members, all cramped inside a massive, reinforced truck.

The steel beast groaned under the weight of the passengers and the huge Pig Orc, whose imposing frame seemed to barely fit, even as it sat still under Lyerin's control.

Lyerin, however, chose to sit on top of the Pig Orc's head, his relaxed posture at odds with the tense mood swirling through the air.

Trailing behind them, a swarm of choppers and armored vehicles shadowed their path.

The government's fleet kept close, their engines humming like an ominous undertone to the strange alliance they had just forged.

One of the newly minted tribe members, a young recruit with wide eyes and a jittery demeanor, finally worked up the courage to ask, "Chief Lyerin, where exactly are we headed?"

Lyerin's lips curled into a slow smile, one that hinted at both mystery and danger. "We're on our way to a treasure trove," he said simply, letting the words hang in the air like a baited hook.

"A treasure trove?" another voice, older and gruffer, chimed in with a dubious tone. "What do you mean by that? Is this some hidden stash of supplies?"

Lyerin nodded, but his eyes glinted with something more sinister.

"Yes. But not just any supplies. I'm talking about resources we need to fortify against the Families' influence. Rare, raw materials, weapon caches, perhaps a few mystical items if we're lucky."

He looked around the truck, noting the skepticism mixed with anticipation.

"Of course, nothing good comes without a price."

"And what kind of price are we talking about here, Chief?" asked another member, his face pale but determined, as if he'd already braced himself for whatever might come.

Lyerin leaned back, his gaze drifting upward as if to the skies where danger lurked just out of sight.

"The trove is buried deep within the untamed lands along with the apocalypse, the wilds—regions where the terrain itself is now alive, unpredictable, and unkind. Feral eldritch beasts, magical storms, ancient traps…

"All these are hazards we're bound to face. It's a no-man's land, untouched and unclaimed because no one has dared to claim it."

The younger recruit swallowed hard, his fingers clutching the edges of his seat. "How… how far are we going?"

Lyerin glanced at him, a slight amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Far enough that you'll lose your sense of time. And just long enough that the weaker members might struggle to keep up."

He cast a quick, unyielding glance around, his gaze lingering on the newer, less seasoned faces.

There was a moment of silence before a woman in military fatigues, who seemed more seasoned than the rest, raised an eyebrow.

"You mean to say you don't know?"

Lyerin shrugged nonchalantly. "Not exactly. These lands shift and change. The path ahead is unpredictable. One day it could take us hours, the next, weeks. No one truly knows how long it will take to reach our destination."

A tense murmur ran through the group.

The unspoken fear among them was almost tangible.

Lyerin's cavalier attitude was unnerving, and even the most hardened of the temporary members found themselves stealing glances at one another, a mixture of anxiety and determination etched across their faces.

One of the men, perhaps trying to keep his composure, cleared his throat and ventured another question. "So, Chief Lyerin… you're confident about this path?"

Lyerin chuckled, the sound dark and cold. "Confident? In what? That I'll survive? Certainly." He leaned forward, his gaze sweeping over the temporary members. "But you all… well, some of you might fare better than others."

A nervous laugh escaped from one of the soldiers, his attempt at bravado falling flat. Another recruit nudged his companion and muttered, "Just remember, we're temporary members. We'll get through this… somehow."

Lyerin's smile was almost predatory as he listened, amused by their attempts to rally themselves.

He watched as the fleet moved like a shadow behind them, the sounds of engines filling the air, each one adding to the tension.

Lucas, who had been listening intently from his seat, finally interjected, his voice steady.

"It doesn't matter," he declared, addressing both Lyerin and his own men. "As long as this journey helps us escape from the Families' control and gives us a fighting chance, we're in. We've survived worse and will do whatever it takes to break free."

Lyerin raised an eyebrow at the display of loyalty, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

For now, it was better to let them believe they were capable, to see how far their resolve would take them.

His own motives were hidden, wrapped in layers they couldn't begin to understand.

For him, this mission was more than just gathering resources; it was a test, a way to gauge the strengths and weaknesses of his newfound allies.

And so they pressed on, each man and woman acutely aware of the quiet, sinister thrill that accompanied Lyerin's every word, feeling a growing sense of dread as they headed toward the unknown.

Lyerin's gaze was fixed forward, his lips curling in a faint smile as he whispered to himself, "Are we near?"

The path before them twisted in shadow, cloaked in the dense and haunting mist that clung to every branch and blade of grass like specters refusing to depart.

The landscape had an eerie, oppressive feel to it, each twisted tree arching as if alive, leaning into their path like silent observers.

Above them, the sky was a dull, washed-out gray, a heavy shroud stretching endlessly in every direction, swallowing up even the feeble sunlight that managed to break through the trees.

The only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the faint, uneasy whispers of an unknown wind, swirling with a kind of foreboding that made everyone but Lyerin pause every few steps.

It was as if they were stepping through a land that had long since died but hadn't yet accepted its own end.

Shadows lay thick beneath the twisted roots and knotted trees, seeping into every hollow and dark crevice, giving off an impression of concealed eyes watching their every movement.

The air was heavy, thick with a dampness that tasted almost metallic, like the calm before a storm.

No birds sang, no insects buzzed—there was only the unsettling quiet that cloaked their every breath.

The silence became louder, pressing on them, until one of the men, fidgeting nervously, finally muttered, "Why does it feel like... like something's watching us?"

His voice was low, as if he dared not disturb the silence.

"Stay focused," barked another. "Eyes ahead."

Then, a sharp crackling sound, like a bolt snapping from the heavens, split the air, piercing through the silence like an alarm.

A flash of blinding, white-blue light struck from above, aimed directly at one of the men on the right flank.

The charge seized him, forcing a scream out of his throat, echoing into the empty vastness around them.

He convulsed, his limbs jerking as the electricity lanced through his body, and then crumpled to the ground, smoking slightly, his breath ragged and shallow.

"What the—!" Another man's voice cut off abruptly as a second bolt crashed down, catching him off guard, striking him in the chest and throwing him back several feet.

His body hit the ground with a dull thud, the smell of charred flesh mingling with the damp scent of earth and decay.

"Look out!" someone screamed, but before the words could even fully register, another bolt, and then another, snaked down from above, illuminating the mist-laden sky like ghastly fireworks.

Men began yelling, calling out commands and warnings, but their voices were drowned out by the relentless electric charges descending like a rain of wrath.

Panic rippled through the group, their once steady formation shattering as they scrambled to evade the unseen attacker.

One of them raised his gun, aiming it blindly into the thick mist, shouting, "Where is it? Where's it coming from?"

His eyes darted wildly, searching the tree line as the light flickered ominously above him, another warning of the impending strike.

Another charge crackled, this one larger, brighter, striking the earth with such force it sent up a small explosion of dirt and debris, blinding those nearby as they staggered back, coughing and stumbling over each other.

"Everyone, fall back!" one of the leaders yelled desperately, his voice cracking under the strain.

However, the order barely reached their ears before yet another surge of electricity arced down, catching another man by the leg and sending him sprawling, writhing in agony.

"Who... what... is doing this?" another voice rang out, choked with terror, and someone else yelled, "Form a perimeter! Stay together, for the love of—"

But it was useless.

Panic had already set in, their lines were broken, and they were nothing but scattered, vulnerable targets in the shadowy landscape, with no clear escape.

Every few seconds, another charge struck, relentless and unyielding, sending the men into further disarray as they stumbled over roots, rocks, and each other in their attempts to flee the onslaught.

"Hold steady!" shouted one of the commanders, though his own voice quavered, betraying his fear.

Discover exclusive content at m,v l'-NovelFire

He barely managed to finish his words before a bolt sizzled right past him, narrowly missing his shoulder.

The crackling energy continued to fall in waves, never allowing them a moment's rest. Men fell, staggered to their feet, only to be struck again.

The once-dominant group of suited men and soldiers, with their advanced weaponry and apparent authority, was now reduced to frightened prey, scrambling under a relentless attack.

In the midst of the chaos, the figures scrambled to regroup, their breaths ragged, faces pale, and eyes wide with panic and confusion.

"Keep moving, don't stay in one place!" a voice shouted.

Yet the urgency in their commands was matched only by the frantic disobedience of their bodies, which betrayed them, flinching with every crackle, every near miss of the unforgiving electrical strikes.

Lyerin watched all of this, his eyes flickering with a strange, almost detached interest as the men continued their desperate, chaotic attempts to survive.

He stood calm, almost serene amidst the havoc, arms folded across his chest as he observed them with a hint of amusement that played at the corner of his lips.

Then, with a low murmur, he mused to himself, a hint of recognition in his voice,

"Thunder Bats? Hmmm… we're definitely close."

The words were spoken softly, almost to himself, yet somehow in the desolate, charged silence, they seemed to echo, casting an eerie stillness over the chaos for a split second, as though even the land itself had paused to listen.