LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The six figures exchanged wary glances, a silent consensus passing between them. They understood the gravity of the situation—taking an Oath as Eldren Mana users was no minor decision.

For those who wielded such potent power, it was a binding contract not only with the words spoken but with the ancient, unpredictable forces embedded in the very mana that coursed through them.

If Lyerin was suggesting an Oath, he was either extremely confident in his intentions or holding a hidden agenda they couldn't yet see.

They murmured among themselves, voices barely above a whisper yet thick with cautious curiosity.

"This could be a setup," one of the individuals said, his gaze sharp beneath his hood. "An Oath with a man like him might mean more than just loyalty. It could mean…" he trailed off, leaving his words to linger ominously in the air.

"Or it could be our best chance," another countered, his tone hard and calculative. "The Families are closing in on us with each passing day, each piece of information they gather. We may have no other choice."

A third figure, her eyes cold and steely, nodded slightly.

"Yes, but Lyerin Stonehooves isn't known for his benevolence. What's in it for him if he just lets us remain free after the Oath? And what would he gain by letting us go after we've done what he wants?"

The tallest among them, an Eldren Mana user renowned for his wisdom, sighed.

"We don't have the luxury to debate this forever. Lyerin is the only one offering us even a temporary reprieve from the Families' grasp. We take the Oath, bind ourselves temporarily to his tribe… or face the Families alone."

They all fell silent, reflecting on this. The air around them pulsed with tension, and though they had long ago learned to silence fear, they felt a pang of unease at the depth of their decision.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lyerin raised his hand, drawing their attention with a commanding gaze that bore into each of them.

"I see you're hesitant," Lyerin said, his voice smooth yet laced with authority.

"But an Oath isn't just for your protection; it's a demonstration of sincerity. I'm not asking you to serve me forever, only to align your purpose with mine until our tasks are complete. In exchange, I vow not to enslave you or bind you against your will."

He raised both hands and began moving them in a graceful, deliberate pattern, calling forth the mana that shimmered around him.

His voice dropped to a tone that seemed to pull the very essence of ancient power from the depths of the earth.

As he spoke, the words felt timeless, heavy with the weight of millennia.

"Before all gathered here, before the skies that watch above us, and the earth that supports our every step, I make this pledge.

"I will not enslave those who come willingly, nor force them down paths they do not choose. My tribe stands as a refuge, a shield, and a temporary home."

The words poured from him like a chant, weaving into the very air, binding not only himself but each of the six before him.

Their breaths grew shallow as they felt the energy of his words resonate through their bodies, sinking into their bones and blood, a timeless force that made escape impossible yet promised security, if only temporarily.

However, he paused, eyes gleaming with a shrewd light as he continued.

"But know this," he added, voice deepening, "my tribe is not just a fleeting alliance. You may find, after tasting its unity, that you wish to remain. To join with us fully and know the strength of true kinship, unbroken by the chains of Families or the threats of tyranny."

The six stood motionless, absorbing the invitation. Each felt the pull, as though Lyerin's words had reached into the depths of their spirits, beckoning them to imagine a life beyond fear, beyond the chokehold of the Families.

The spell took hold, and each of the six, entranced and yielding, raised their hands, mirroring Lyerin's ritual.

Together, they began to chant, their voices merging, adding their energy to his and binding the Oath with their own Mana.

As they repeated his words, a pulse of mana surged upward, charging the air around them until the very sky above began to shift.

The clouds churned, darkening to an almost pitch-black hue, streaked with veins of violet and indigo light, crackling like lightning but not descending to the earth.

Strange winds began to swirl around them, buffeting their clothing and swirling dust into the air.

Far above, a circle of pure darkness took shape, an eldritch phenomenon that seemed to peer down at them like an unblinking eye.

It watched, judging the strength and sincerity of their Oath.

Beneath them, the ground trembled and then began to glow, strange symbols appearing in a complex, spiraling pattern.

The symbols glowed dark, almost as though shadows were made to burn—a phenomenon unnatural and eerie, evoking a creeping unease in even the most hardened of warriors.

With a final surge of energy, the strange dark aura gathered above condensed into a single strand, a tendril of eldritch power that slithered down, stretching towards Lyerin.

It wound its way around him, sending a crawling chill across the skin of every onlooker, before settling above his forehead.

Slowly, as though testing his resolve, the eldritch energy pressed into his forehead, sinking into his skin with a feeling of crawling shadows.

Lyerin's face remained stoic as he absorbed the power, but his eyes glinted with a chilling intensity.

He felt the crawling energy settle deep within, marking him as both the instigator and guardian of this Oath.

Then, as if nothing had occurred, the energy faded away, leaving only the ghostly afterimage of eldritch symbols burned into the memory of each witness.

Silence fell. Only the faintest of breezes stirred the air.

"It is done," Lyerin said, voice low, heavy with finality. He looked at each of the six, his gaze holding theirs in turn. "Next is to become a temporary members of my tribe. Bound not by force, but by choice, until we have achieved our common purpose."

The leader's eyes narrowed as he considered Lyerin's proposal, his gaze piercing as if weighing every word.

He glanced back to his companions, who nodded in silent agreement, their faces grim.

Turning back to Lyerin, he gave a single, curt nod.

"Alright."

One by one, they stepped forward, forming a circle around Lyerin.

Each man raised his right hand, fists clenched tightly, and one by one, they began to recite an oath that Lyerin could tell was drafted on the spot, but it bore the weight of their desperation, of their desire to escape from under the thumb of the families.

"I swear," each began, "as a temporary member of the Tribe of Stonehooves, I bind my loyalty to Chief Lyerin. My blade, my strength, my skill—these belong to his tribe as long as I bear this oath."

One by one, they walked to him, drawing closer to where Lyerin stood.

"Lyerin, oh I forgot to introduce myself," the leader began, lifting his eyes to meet the unwavering gaze of the young warrior.

"I am Axton Volker, once a leader of this city's government. I've watched you take down creatures and forces that no human could withstand alone, guiding this Tribe of Pig Orcs to unparalleled heights. Your strength—your will—is unmatched."

He took a deep breath, and his next words came out clear and unyielding. "For the sake of humanity's survival, I pledge myself to you and your cause. My loyalty is yours, temporarily."

Lyerin's eyes remained steady on Axton, silently accepting the man's oath.

He nodded subtly, but his gaze shifted to the next figure stepping forward—a tall, lithe woman with hair the color of burnished copper.

Her gaze was fierce, unflinching as she, too, dropped to one knee.

"My name is Evelina Raine," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I once led the City's Council of Defense, and I've seen more horrors than most. But never in my life have I seen anything like what you've accomplished here. Your leadership has shown me the path forward."

Her eyes locked with Lyerin's, a glint of determination shining within them.

"I pledge myself to your cause. Let me fight alongside you—to whatever end awaits us in this temporary alliance versus the families…"

Lyerin gave a slight nod, acknowledging her loyalty.

A third figure—a stocky man with powerful shoulders and a scar running from his eyebrow to his chin—stepped forward. His voice rumbled like distant thunder. "I'm Barron Creed," he stated, his tone grave.

"A military strategist, a protector of civilians. But all that matters little now. You, Lyerin, are the future of our world. I pledge my strength, my strategies, my life—whatever is needed to help you forge a temporary future beyond the ruins."

As Creed stepped back, a woman with dark eyes and a calm, composed expression took his place. "I am Aline Kepler," she said quietly but firmly.

"I served as the Head of Logistics, ensuring the survival of our people through resources, strategies, and adaptation. I see in you a leader who does not bow, who fights relentlessly. I pledge myself to your cause, Lyerin. I will serve as your advisor, your strategist, or whatever you need for the time being"

Finally, the youngest of the five—a lean, wiry man with piercing green eyes—stepped forward, his lips curving into a slight smile.

"Tarian Volt. Former intelligence officer," he introduced himself. "I've watched from the shadows, seen the horrors of this world, and lost everything I once valued. But now… I've seen enough to know that you, Lyerin, are what this world needs. I pledge my loyalty to you. My eyes and ears are yours, and my blade is at your service for now."

Each pledge struck Lyerin in its own way.

Though he held his composure, a sense of triumph burned beneath the surface.

These were not mere followers; they were powerful, skilled individuals who had once wielded considerable influence, now swearing allegiance to him—a participant, an outsider who had risen against impossible odds.

He descended from his place in the air, feet touching the ground as he looked over the five new followers.

These were no ordinary warriors; they were survivors of the highest rank, people with skills that would prove invaluable in the battles yet to come.

"You all understand what this entails?" Lyerin asked, his voice steely but controlled.

"The path I walk leads to power, but it is fraught with dangers none of you have yet faced. The Asuras, the Overseer, the horrors lurking in the shadows… they're relentless. Joining my cause means giving everything you are to see humanity rise from its ashes."

Axton was the first to respond. "We know. And we accept."

The others nodded in solemn agreement. They had seen what he could do, witnessed his power and the loyalty he commanded from the Pig Orcs.

This wasn't a decision made lightly—it was one they understood with every fiber of their being.

"Then welcome," Lyerin said, his gaze sweeping over each of them, acknowledging the strength they brought to his side. "You are now part of the Stonehooves Tribe, temporarily."