LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The courtroom-like chamber was deathly silent, the air thick with disbelief and fear.

The members of the Borgias Family, once so proud and confident, now stood frozen in shock.

The lifeless body of Lyuzen lay on the cold floor, a pool of blood slowly spreading beneath him. And Lyerin calmly stood over the corpse, with an unreadable expression, but one could see his eyes were cold as ice.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a furious scream.

"LYEEEETRRIIIIIIIIIIIINNN!!!!" Lord Victor's voice echoed through the chamber, filled with rage and desperation. "YOU BRAZEN HALFLING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!??? THEY WERE JUST TESTING YOU!!!"

Lord Victor's face was twisted in anger, his reputation and pride hanging by a thread. He had been the one to bring Lyerin into the fold, to vouch for him and put his name on the line. It was supposed to be a test, a way to gauge Lyerin's strength and resolve, to see if he was truly worthy of the Borgias Family's trust. But Lyerin had done the unthinkable.

He had killed one of their own, and not just any member—a direct powerhouse of the family. This was no mere act of defiance; it was a declaration of war.

Lyerin's response was not what Victor expected. The young man's lips curled into a grin, his eyes gleaming with a sharp, cold, and mocking light. "Lord Victor, Lord Victor," Lyerin began, everyone could hear their tone dripping with contempt. "You really think I care about this spit of a family? You think I give a damn about your tests, your reputation, or your precious missions?"

The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud, each one stabbing at Victor's already frayed nerves. Lyerin's voice grew louder, more confident as he continued, his disdain for the Borgias Family clear in every syllable. "This family, this pathetic collection of power-hungry old fools and stupid young cubs, means nothing to me.

Did you really think I would grovel at your feet, beg for your approval, and dance to your tune? You must be more deluded than I thought."

Victor's eyes widened in shock, his mind struggling to comprehend the audacity of Lyerin's words.

This was not how things were supposed to go.

Lyerin was supposed to prove his worth, to show that he was capable of completing the ten special missions. Instead, he was tearing down everything Victor had tried to build, mocking him in front of the entire family.

Lyerin's grin widened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "You know, Lord Victor," he said, his voice low and menacing, "I should thank you. If it weren't for your foolishness, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to do this. Sending your Guardian Beast to fetch me—what were you thinking? Did you really believe that using the Thousand Shadow Panther would intimidate me?

That it would make me fall in line? Or even make me bow down to its presence? Or could it be you want to show off to me that your family were as strong because you can just casually send guardian beasts that's on a six cycle, as strong as all of you?"

Victor's breath caught in his throat. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion. The Thousand Shadow Panther was one of the most feared creatures in the land, a beast of unparalleled strength and cunning.

To use it as a mere messenger was an act of hubris, but Victor had believed it would show Lyerin the seriousness of the situation.

Lyerin's eyes narrowed, his expression one of cold calculation. "Let me tell you something about myself, Lord Victor," he said, his voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of dark amusement. "I know you are proud, yes. Also eccentric, perhaps. But most of all, I know you are a show-off. You thrive on proving myself, on demonstrating my superiority.

And you, in your infinite wisdom, decided to send the Guardian Beast, the Thousand Shadow Panther, to fetch me. Do you know what that told me, Lord Victor? It told me that you are a fool."

Victor's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as Lyerin's words sank in. "You dare—" he began, but his voice faltered as he tried to move. His body refused to obey, his muscles locked in place as if held by an invisible force.

"Huh?" He mutters, "What's going on?"

Panic began to spread through the room as the other members of the Borgias Family realized they were in the same predicament.

"I... I can't move!" one of them gasped, his voice filled with terror. "What's happening?"

"Why can't I move?!" another cried, struggling against the unseen bonds that held him.

"This is some kind of trick!" a third shouted, his voice rising in pitch as fear took hold.

"Someone, do something!" a fourth demanded, his eyes darting around the room in desperation.

"We're trapped!" a fifth exclaimed, his face pale with fear.

"Is this his doing?!" the sixth whispered, his voice trembling.

Lyerin watched them with a mixture of amusement and disdain, his eyes gleaming with the dark satisfaction of someone who had complete control over the situation. "You're all so eager to know what's happening," he said, his voice smooth and calm. "Let me enlighten you."

He took a step forward, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. "There are many types of Torture Ghost Trees," he began, his tone conversational, as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather. "The first kind feeds on the physical pain of its victims, drawing out their suffering for days, even weeks, until their bodies give out.

The second kind targets the mind, weaving illusions and nightmares so vivid that the victim can no longer distinguish reality from fiction. The third kind paralyzes its prey, keeping them alive but immobilized, while it slowly drains their life force. The fourth kind inflicts excruciating pain at irregular intervals, never allowing the victim to know when the next wave will hit.

The fifth kind feeds on the victim's emotions, amplifying their fear, anger, and despair until they're driven mad. And the sixth kind... well, it's a bit of a mystery. No one really knows how it works, because no one who's encountered it has lived to tell the tale."

The room was deathly silent as Lyerin spoke, the members of the Borgias Family hanging on his every word. Their fear was palpable, a living, breathing thing that filled the air and made it hard to breathe.

"But then," Lyerin continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "there is another type of tree. A special type. A brother to the Torture Ghost Trees, if you will. It's called the Torture Parasitic Tree."

The words hung in the air, ominous and foreboding. Lyerin's smile widened as he looked around the room, enjoying the fear that radiated from the people who had once thought themselves untouchable.

"Would you like to know what a Torture Parasitic Tree does?" he asked, his voice soft but carrying an edge that sent a shiver down the spines of everyone present.

No one answered, but the terror in their eyes was all the response he needed.

Lyerin's gaze swept over them, his eyes cold and calculating. He had them right where he wanted them, and now, they would learn the true meaning of fear.