LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The heavy silence in the courtroom-like chamber was almost suffocating as the members of the Borgias Family stared at Lyerin.

The air was sharp like a blade that seemed to graze through him if ever moved an inch, each one of them were scrutinizing him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Finally, one of them spoke—a tall man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes.

"How did you know that the Batrider's weaknesses were screams and that the Assassins were flammable?"

Lyerin, without thinking too much, calmly replied, "It's obvious; it's a bat—echolocation. And you claim that these Batriders can find almost anyone, even in the dark, right? So to hide their presence, they needed a material to obscure their echolocation. This means the Assassins are using some kind of foam and flammable substances against the Batriders.

It was a risk, but it would also conceal their presence from these riders. Plus, I think you're all fools for sending me one assassin so early to confirm my assumptions."

Hearing this disrespectful reply, the whole room went silet. This also made almost everyone had a bulge on their forehead.

Fortunately, another one added.

"Why do you want to enter the Borgias Family?" he asked, his voice cold and calculating, as if there was something in his question.

Despite feeling a pressure that they believe as a proud Borgias Family, Lyerin's expression remained calm, his eyes meeting the man's gaze without flinching. He knew this was a test, a way for them to gauge his intentions. "The Borgias Family is powerful, influential," Lyerin began, his voice steady. "Being a part of such a family offers opportunities for growth, both in strength and knowledge.

I seek to improve myself, to become the best I can be."

A woman with dark, serpentine eyes leaned forward, her voice dripping with skepticism. "And what makes you think you're worthy of being one of us?" she asked, her tone sharp as a blade.

Lyerin offered her a small smile, careful not to show any signs of discomfort. "Worthiness is not something I claim lightly," he replied smoothly. "But I believe that actions speak louder than words. I've already proven my capabilities. All I ask is for the opportunity to continue proving myself."

Another man, shorter with a grizzled beard, narrowed his eyes. "You talk about opportunities. But what if those opportunities come with risks? What if your loyalty is tested?"

Lyerin's smile didn't waver. "Loyalty is earned, not given freely," he said. "I understand the weight of loyalty in a family like this. I'm prepared to face whatever tests are required to prove mine."

A fourth voice chimed in, this one from an older woman with a wrinkled face and sharp, calculating eyes. "And what do you plan to do with the power you gain here?" she asked, her gaze boring into him as if she could see straight through his soul.

"The power I gain here," Lyerin responded thoughtfully, "will be used to protect what's important to me. To uphold the principles of the family, and to contribute to its growth. I have no interest in personal glory or selfish pursuits."

A younger man, barely older than Lyerin himself, scoffed. "You speak of principles and protection, but what if you're faced with a choice between your own interests and the family's? What then?"

Lyerin's eyes met the young man's, his expression turning serious. "The family's interests come first," he said firmly. "My own ambitions are secondary. I understand the importance of unity and strength in numbers. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

Another figure, hidden in the shadows at the back of the room, finally spoke up. His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it carried a weight that made everyone else fall silent. "What do you know about the history of the Borgias Family?" he asked.

Lyerin paused for a moment, considering his response carefully. "I know that the Borgias Family has a long and storied history, filled with both triumphs and challenges," he said. "It's a family that has endured through strength, cunning, and resilience. I respect that history, and I seek to contribute to its legacy."

The man in the shadows said nothing more, his silence somehow more unnerving than his question. Lyerin kept his expression neutral, refusing to let any of the tension show on his face.

Finally, a seventh voice broke the silence, this one softer, almost gentle. "Do you seek to meet your father?" the voice asked, a question that sent a ripple of unease through the room.

Lyerin's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't let it show. His father. The man who had never been a part of his life, who had never even acknowledged his existence. The father who, by all accounts, was nothing more than a distant figure, an abstract concept.

He thought about it for a moment, the idea of meeting his father, and found that it didn't stir any strong emotions in him. He had never seen him, never met him, and, if he was being honest, he wasn't particularly interested in meeting him now. His life had been shaped by other forces, and his father had never been one of them.

"I've never met him," Lyerin said finally, his voice steady. "And I can't say I'm particularly interested in doing so. He's a stranger to me, and I to him. There's nothing to talk about between us. I know I'm just one of his many offspring, and I've made peace with that."

The room fell into a tense silence, the members of the Borgias Family exchanging glances.

Lyerin could sense their unease, their doubt. He had answered their questions with calculated precision, revealing just enough to satisfy their curiosity without giving away his true intentions.

But then, a low, rumbling laugh broke the silence. Lord Victor, sitting at the highest seat in the room, leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Lyuzen," he said, a single name that sent a shockwave through the room.

All heads turned to look at a man sitting off to the side, a man Lyerin hadn't noticed before. He was tall, with dark hair and piercing eyes, his presence commanding and unmistakable.

The murmurs began immediately, the members of the family whispering to one another. "Lyuzen… no wonder the name Lyerin sounded familiar," one of them said. "They look so much alike, don't they?"

"Yes," another agreed. "The resemblance is uncanny. The same eyes, the same aura, the way they look, the way they stand and even the way they speak…"

"And the way he carries himself too," a third voice added. "That calm demeanor, that sharp mind, the composed and organized delivery of words. It's just like Lyuzen. Now, I can see a clear resemblance between them, it's as clear as day."

Lyerin's gaze locked onto the man named Lyuzen, his mind articulating what the people were saying in his surroundings. There was a strange sense of familiarity between them, a connection that he couldn't quite place. But then, a memory surfaced, unbidden and unwanted.

The memory of his mother's death, he could remember that he's one of the men who had stood by and watched as she was killed.

He had been there, watching with cold, detached eyes as Lyerin's mother had been murdered in front of him.

Remembering all of this, Lyerin like a punch to the gut, a surge of anger boiling up inside him.

His hands clenched into fists, and he didn't know his knuckles were turning white. He could feel the magic stirring within him, the Mana that had been lying dormant now roaring to life, fueled by his rage. His vision blurred, the room fading away as the memory of that day consumed him.

He was about to conjure something, to unleash the full force of his fury on the man who had played a part in his mother's death and everyone around him. But then, just as his mana was about to explode, a voice cut through the haze of anger.

"Lyerin."