LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The moment the man's eyes glinted with malicious intent, Lyerin had already sensed it.

His muscles didn't tense, his stance didn't shift; he simply stood there with a smirk curling across his lips.

The man, thinking he had caught Lyerin in a vulnerable moment, lunged forward with all his speed, a knife gleaming in his hand as he aimed for Lyerin's throat.

But before the blade could even come close, one of the massive Pig Orcs standing beside Lyerin moved with surprising agility.

With a thunderous Kabam, the Pig Orc blocked the attack with its enormous arm, the man's blade bouncing off its tough hide as if he had struck stone.

Lyerin's smirk deepened as he tilted his head slightly, glancing at the would-be assassin from the corner of his eye.

"Really? You thought you could catch me off guard?" His tone was laced with amusement, as though he were watching a child trying to play a grown-up's game. "Pathetic."

The assassin, undeterred, took a step back to regain his footing, his eyes darting between Lyerin and the three Pig Orcs that now encircled their master.

He gritted his teeth and dashed forward again, this time aiming for Lyerin's midsection, trying to slip past the towering guards.

However, once again, a Pig Orc moved with brutal efficiency, its massive hand sweeping the man aside as if he were a mere insect.

The man was thrown several feet away, crashing into the rubble of a broken wall.

Dust and debris flew into the air, but the assassin was quick to recover, flipping back onto his feet with surprising grace.

His eyes burned with frustration as he realized the Pig Orcs were not ordinary beasts; they were fast, disciplined, and utterly loyal to Lyerin.

"Impressive speed," Lyerin commented, his voice dripping with mockery. "But not enough. You'll need more than that if you want to even touch me." He chuckled softly, the sound like nails on a chalkboard to the assassin's ears.

The assassin's mind tried to think of several ways to get inside.

He needed to find an opening.

His eyes flicked between the Pig Orcs, looking for any gaps in their formation, but their defense was tight, seamless even.

Every time he tried to move in, a massive arm or leg blocked his path.

Every strike he attempted was parried or deflected with ease, as though the Pig Orcs were toying with him.

Lyerin, meanwhile, stood relaxed, watching the struggle with an almost bored expression.

"You really thought you had a chance, didn't you?" he mused, shaking his head.

"An assassin, huh? I expected better. You're not even worth my time." He gestured lazily toward the Pig Orcs. "These three are more than enough for you."

The assassin growled under his breath, darting to the left in a desperate attempt to outmaneuver the Pig Orcs.

He ducked low, feinting to one side, then launched himself toward Lyerin's back, hoping to catch him unawares. But just as his blade was about to strike, the nearest Pig Orc spun around, slamming into him with a bone-rattling punch that sent him sprawling across the pavement.

"Too slow!" Lyerin called out, his mocking laughter echoing across the street. "And predictable. Are you even trying?" He leaned back slightly, as if enjoying the spectacle. "This is almost embarrassing to watch. I've seen children with better skills."

The assassin coughed, spitting out blood as he scrambled to his feet once more. His breathing was ragged now, his movements growing more desperate by the second.

He circled around, looking for any weakness, any flaw in the Pig Orcs' defense, but there was none.

They were relentless, moving with a precision that belied their massive size.

No matter how fast or tricky the assassin tried to be, the Pig Orcs always anticipated his moves, blocking or countering before he could even get close to Lyerin.

Lyerin's voice cut through the air again, taunting.

"You came here thinking you could kill me, didn't you? And yet, here you are—barely surviving against my guards. What was your plan, hmm? To slink in, strike me down, and disappear like the coward you are?"

He laughed again, louder this time.

"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

The assassin, his frustration mounting, lunged forward again, this time trying a flurry of rapid strikes aimed at the closest Pig Orc.

However, every blow he landed seemed to do nothing.

The Pig Orcs' skin was thick, their muscles dense, and they moved with surprising speed, blocking each attack with ease.

"Still at it?" Lyerin jeered. "Tell me, do you always fail this badly? Or is this a special performance just for me?"

The assassin's eyes flickered with desperation.

He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer.

Every second he spent fighting the Pig Orcs was draining his energy, and he had yet to even get close to Lyerin.

His body ached from the repeated impacts, and his breath came in sharp, ragged bursts. He had to find a way out, had to—

"You're outmatched, fool," Lyerin said, his tone suddenly cold. "But don't worry. I won't kill you just yet. I'm having too much fun watching you squirm."

He gave the assassin a predatory smile, his eyes glinting with malice. "But if you keep disappointing me, maybe I'll let my Pig Orcs tear you apart after all."

The assassin's heart pounded in his chest. He needed to think, needed to find a way through the Pig Orcs' defense.

He feinted left again, then right, trying to confuse them, but no matter what he did, they were always one step ahead.

Their sheer size and strength made them nearly impossible to bypass.

And then, in the midst of his frantic movements, it happened.

As the assassin darted to the right, focusing entirely on the Pig Orcs, he failed to notice one of Lyerin's human subordinates sneaking up behind him.

With his attention entirely on the towering beasts in front of him, the assassin didn't realize the danger until it was too late.

Swish!

A blade sliced through the air, and the assassin felt a sharp, searing pain in his side.

He staggered, blood pouring from the wound as he clutched his ribs in shock.

His eyes widened as he spun around, seeing the human subordinate standing there, weapon raised and eyes cold.

"You were too focused on the big ones," Lyerin said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

"You forgot about the smaller threats." He laughed softly, watching as the assassin stumbled back, his strength failing. "You're so obsessed with me, you didn't even notice my other pawns."

The assassin, panting and bleeding, dropped to one knee, glaring up at Lyerin with a mixture of hatred and disbelief.

He had been so close—so sure of his victory—and yet here he was, beaten and humiliated.

Lyerin crossed his arms, looking down at the man with disdain.

"You're done."

He gave a sharp nod to the Pig Orcs, who stepped back, giving the assassin space to collapse.

The scene ended as the assassin, now severely injured, realized just how outmatched he had been from the start.

All his focus, all his cunning, had been wasted on the wrong target, and Lyerin had played him from the very beginning.

Yet, the assassin would suddenly smirk.