LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The morning light barely touched the ruins of the city, casting long, eerie shadows over the crumbling buildings and cracked streets.

The silence was punctuated only by the occasional groan of a collapsing structure or the distant rustle of wind through the abandoned cars.

Lyerin stood amidst the chaos, his towering nine-foot frame covered in jet-black fur, his skin pulsing with dark veins that glowed faintly with an ominous red light. His transformation into an Eldritch being had rendered him a part of the twisted ecosystem that now ruled this world.

The Eldritch Fleshers that once lunged at him now regarded him with an odd sense of kinship, shuffling past him without a second glance.

Lyerin paid them no mind. His eyes, still holding that deep violet crimson hue, scanned the desolate landscape. His gaze caught movement in the distance, and he turned his head slowly, catching sight of several horses—if they could still be called that—gathered on the street ahead.

These were not the noble creatures of the old world.

Their once glossy coats were matted with dirt and streaked with black ooze, their eyes sunken and glowing with an unnatural light, their breaths coming in harsh, guttural hisses.

A low hum began to emanate from Lyerin as he raised his hand, his palm open toward the horses.

The air around him began to twist and churn, creating a vortex that whipped through the debris and dirt at his feet.

The wind howled as it spiraled upward, pulling in tendrils of the black goo that dripped from the buildings and streets.

The dark substance coalesced into a swirling mass above his hand, forming into a dense, inky sphere that pulsed with malevolent energy.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Lyerin swung the black sphere like a rope, the motion sending ripples through the air. The horses, sensing the shift in power, turned their gaze toward him, he could see their glowing eyes wide with confusion.

For a moment, they simply stared, their breaths coming in ragged pants as they struggled to comprehend the presence before them.

Lyerin paused, his gaze narrowing as he assessed the creatures before him.

These eldritch horses were weak, their power only comparable to the 4th to 7th stage of Initial Cycle Eldritch Beasts. He could bring them back to his tribe, but the thought left a sour taste in his mouth. Why bother? he mused, the idea already beginning to sour in his mind.

Their levels were too low, hardly worth the effort it would take to tame and train them. In this new world, where the lines between reality and magic were blurred, he still had no clear idea of how to level them up, especially considering their real-world constraints.

The eldritch beings around him were in a state of uneasy peace, the early days of the apocalypse giving them a rare moment of reprieve.

Once the chaos settled, the real battles would begin, and the food chains would reestablish themselves in brutal fashion.

For now, these weak horses were more of a liability than an asset. He had plans, grand plans that required powerful beasts, not these lowly creatures that would only slow him down.

Lyerin considered leaving them to their fate, to wander the ruined streets until something stronger came along to claim them. But then, his gaze locked onto one horse in particular—a larger, more imposing creature standing slightly apart from the rest. Its dark mane was matted, and its eyes burned with a fiercer intensity.

This one was different. It held more potential, its aura suggesting it was at the 11th stage of the Initial Cycle as an Eldritch beast. This one might be worth his time.

With a decisive swing, Lyerin released the black rope, letting it coil around the horse's neck with a whoosh. The horse neighed loudly, rearing back as it struggled against the sudden restraint.

"Heeeyaaaah!"

Lyerin's deep voice echoed through the empty streets as he tugged the rope, pulling the creature closer with a firm, unyielding grip.

The horse thrashed wildly, its hooves pounding against the pavement with thunderous clop-clop-clop sounds, but Lyerin's strength was far beyond anything it could match.

One by one, he ensnared three more of the strongest horses, their collective resistance only serving to irritate him further. Their panic-stricken whinnies filled the air, "Whiiiiinnnnnnyyy!" they cried out, their fear palpable as they tried in vain to escape.

Annoyed by their incessant struggles, Lyerin crouched down and tied their feet together with the black rope, their hooves scraping desperately against the ground.

With a grunt, he lifted them onto his massive shoulders, carrying them effortlessly despite their weight.

As he continued his search for more suitable horses, his sharp eyes caught sight of a small, seemingly untouched building nestled between two crumbling structures.

Something about it drew his attention, and he approached it with measured steps, his curiosity piqued.

Through the cracked, grimy windows, Lyerin saw movement. His keen vision pierced the darkness within, revealing a group of terrified people huddled together.

Their faces were pale, eyes wide with fear as they stared at him in horror. Among them, he could see soldiers—members of the military, their uniforms torn and dirty, rifles trembling in their hands as they aimed at the door.

One of the civilians, a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and matted hair, whispered frantically, "W-What is that? Oh god, what is that thing? Is it one of them?" Her voice trembled, barely a breathless gasp.

A man beside her clutched a small child to his chest, his eyes locked on Lyerin's towering form. "It's… it's too big… no human could be that big…"

Another voice, this one raspier, choked out in panic, "We're dead… we're all dead… there's no way we can survive this…"

The soldiers, desperate to maintain some semblance of control, hissed at them to be quiet. "Shut up! Don't make a sound! Don't let it hear us!"

But their commands did little to quell the rising tide of fear. The civilians' murmurs grew louder, more frantic, their terror feeding off each other's panic. "Oh god, we're gonna die… please, someone help us… why isn't anyone coming?"

"What is that thing? It looks like it's made of darkness…"

"Is it here to kill us? Or is it… worse?"

Lyerin's eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. His towering figure, with the massive eldritch horses slung over his shoulders, was enough to send them into a state of pure terror.

The horses, sensing the humans' fear, began to whinny and thrash again, their loud, panicked cries echoing through the building. Neighhhh! Snort! Whiiinnyyy!

The sheer noise caused the people inside to scream in unison, their voices shrill and full of despair. "No! It's coming for us!"

"What do we do? What do we do?!"

The soldiers desperately tried to regain control, shouting orders to quiet the group, but their efforts were futile.

The sight of Lyerin, with his monstrous appearance and the eldritch horses in tow, was simply too much for their already fragile nerves.

Amused by their reaction, Lyerin allowed a slow, predatory smile to spread across his face. His sharp teeth, stark white against the blackness of his form, gleamed in the dim light.

The sight only served to deepen the terror within the building, the humans inside reduced to sobbing wrecks as they clung to each other for any semblance of comfort.

Their fear was almost palpable, hanging thick in the air like a choking fog.

The sound of their panicked breaths, the hurried thump-thump of their hearts, and the trembling gasps of desperation filled the room, creating a cacophony of human misery.

Satisfied with his little prank, Lyerin paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the cowering figures within. He could sense their absolute terror, a raw, primal fear that radiated from them in waves. It was almost intoxicating, the power he held over them, the way they trembled at the mere sight of him.

But Lyerin had no interest in them. His focus remained on his mission—gathering enough of these eldritch horses before his mana ran out, and he reverted back to his human form. He had no time to waste on the weak and the frightened.

With one final, lingering glance, Lyerin turned away from the building.

The cries and whispers of terror faded into the background as he continued his hunt, leaving behind a group of humans who would forever be haunted by the memory of the towering, dark figure that had spared them.