LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The Borgias family stood in a cold semi-circle around the cage, each of their expressions hardened hard, eyes glinting with cold anticipation of what will happen next.

The air was thick with tension, the dim light of the room casting long shadows that seemed to cling to the corners like predators waiting for a chance to strike.

This was no ordinary gathering; this was an assembly of the most dangerous members of the family, and at the center of their attention was Lyerin, trapped within a cage built specifically to hold beings far stronger than he should have been.

Yet here he was, looking unnervingly calm.

Lyuzen stood at the head of the group, his arms crossed, but his eyes however were narrowed in disbelief.

He hadn't expected Lyerin to fall for this. He had underestimated his son's relationship with Lina, his mistress, and for a moment, he almost believed that this plan had worked too easily.

How had his son been captured so effortlessly, despite his infamous cunning?

One of the higher-ups, a Sixth Stage Eldren Lord, voiced the thoughts swirling through the room. His voice, a deep baritone, cut through the silence.

"How did Lyerin sneak into the Borgias Family estate so easily? How did he pass the advanced smell, shadow, and movement detectors? We've set up barriers that even an Eldren Lord like myself has trouble with. I've tried several times to breach the defenses as a test, and I've always been caught. So how the hell did *he* manage this?"

The others murmured in agreement, shifting uneasily. It didn't make sense.

They had fortified their estate with the most sophisticated security measures known to the Eldren.

Anyone attempting to infiltrate should have triggered alarms, been identified, or stopped before they could get anywhere near the heart of their operations.

"He's too crafty for his own good," Lord Victor sneered, standing with his arms folded, his expression a mix of frustration and admiration. "You've all underestimated him, even now. He's not a typical halfling. We all knew that. After all, he took a storm to us Borgias Family in just a single night."

There was a collective pause as the dust in the room began to settle, slowly unveiling the captured figure in the cage.

All the Borgias members were poised, their bodies tense, ready to act at a moment's notice.

They had guns aimed, shadowed Eldren assassins hidden in the gloom, and even the strongest among them—the scarred Eldren warrior—had his fingers twitching, ready to strike at any given moment.

The scarred man crossed his arms, his eyes cold and calculating as he watched the scene unfold.

His hand rested lightly on his weapon, fingers poised with the same deadly precision he had honed through countless battles.

Finally, as the dust cleared completely, they saw him—Lyerin, standing in the cage, he had an unreadable expression and his eyes focused not on his captors, but on something in the cage with him.

His gaze was fixated on a photo, a simple image of his mother, Lina, and his other siblings.

For a long moment, there was silence as the group processed what they were seeing.

Lyuzen, catching sight of the picture, couldn't suppress a smile.

He looked around at the others, a smug expression on his face. "I never thought it would be this simple. My son, the most dangerous of all my offspring in just a single night, still tethered to something as trivial as maternal ties. How amusing."

The others turned to him, some nodding in understanding while others remained skeptical.

At first, they hadn't expected that Lyuzen's illegitimate son had been a wildcard, and his unpredictability was a source of both fear and fascination for the family when they saw the strongest in their family was hurt by him.

Yet, here he was, seemingly vulnerable because of his connection to his mother.

For a moment, Lyuzen felt a surge of victory wash over him. He had finally outmaneuvered his son.

One of the other Eldren members spoke up, his voice laced with condescension. "Lyerin, give up now. You're surrounded. The metal that cages you is forged from materials that not even the deepest ocean pressures could dent. You're not escaping this time."

Another added, "Even if you do somehow manage to escape the cage, we're all ready. You've got nowhere to go, no cards left to play."

A third voice joined in, smug and confident. "You've always been a clever one, but you're out of your depth here. The Borgias have outsmarted you. Surrender now, and we might be lenient."

More voices chimed in, each echoing the same sentiment, warning Lyerin that there was no way out, no chance of escape. They had him cornered, or so they thought.

But then, Lyerin's head slowly turned toward them, his expression still calm, almost indifferent. He mumbled something under his breath, so low it was barely audible, but the words carried a weight that made the room go still.

"They don't seem to understand," Lyerin muttered to himself before speaking louder.

"I didn't escape from the ruined magic world because I cared for my mother. I don't want her to be hurt by what I saw today."

His voice was calm, detached, like he was explaining something that no longer held any importance to him.

"Yes, I escaped because I wanted to prove something to myself, but now I realize that everything I thought mattered... doesn't. It's all just ideals. I've accepted it."

A hush fell over the room.

The air grew thick with a tension that wasn't there before.

The members of the Borgias family exchanged uneasy glances.

Lyerin's eyes were like a cold, creeping fog settling over them, chilling them to the bone.

"I could have taken my mother," Lyerin continued, his voice taking on a dark edge, "and used my tribe's power to change her view of me. But now, even that seems sickening to me. I've moved beyond that. I have… other plans."

There was a collective shift in the room as the gravity of his words sank in.

Lyerin was discussing something they didn't know and it's chilling, hearing his take, for them, he became something even more darker, more calculating.

"He's been controlling the Panther Guardian Mana," someone whispered, the fear in their voice unmistakable. "Without repercussions. That kind of power… it's comparable to a Sixth Stage Eldren Lord."

Suddenly, as if on cue, Lyerin reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, nondescript object.

The room tensed instantly, every weapon, every assassin poised to strike.

"What is that?" someone demanded, their voice sharp with alarm.

Lyerin didn't answer. Instead, he tossed the object into the air. Instantly, everyone flinched, bracing for an explosion or some sort of deadly attack. But nothing happened.

The object was caught mid-air by the Seventh Stage Eldren Grandmaster, the strongest among them, whose reflexes were unparalleled.

He looked down at the item in his hand, frowning as he tried to understand what it was.

Lyerin's voice cut through the confusion, soft but carrying an unsettling weight. "I know that's what you want."

The Grandmaster's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Lyerin's lips curled into a small, almost mocking smile. "Let me go."

The silence that followed was deafening. The Borgias family members, so certain of their victory just moments ago, now stood frozen, unsure of what to do next.

They had underestimated Lyerin once again, and now, they were left questioning whether they had truly caught him—or if, somehow, he was still in control.

What the hell is the meaning of this?