LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe - Chapter 131

Chapter 131: Salt Mist
Lyuzen stepped forward from the crowd, his tall frame looming over the room like an indomitable force.

His eyes, cold yet calculating, locked onto Lyerin’s, who stood in the center of the cage with a twisted grin, a maniacal light flickering in his eyes.

“Are you really doing this just for your amusement, Lyerin?” Lyuzen’s voice was a mixture of disbelief and controlled fury. “Just for the thrill of destruction?”

Lyerin’s head slowly turned toward his father.

His gaze, almost playful, met Lyuzen’s, and he grinned even wider, his teeth gleaming under the dim lights of the chamber.

His voice was soft at first, almost teasing. “Awww, Father. Of course. I know it sounds crazy, but it really is what I want.”

Then, without warning, Lyerin burst into loud, unsettling laughter, his body shaking with the force of it.

“Hahahaha! Isn’t it brilliant?” he continued, his laughter subsiding as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Think about it—if the Borgias Family reached such incredible heights, wouldn’t they be an unstoppable force? Wouldn’t you all be so powerful that the world would tremble beneath your feet?”

His voice was rising now, filled with a frenzied energy.

“But… if that powerful force were to reach such a height, wouldn’t it be even more… exhilarating if I were the one to take you down?”

The room fell silent once more. His words hung in the air like a toxic cloud, thick and suffocating.

No one moved, their eyes locked onto Lyerin as he spoke.

His voice, while filled with laughter, had a cruel edge to it, a gleeful insanity that chilled the blood of everyone present.

“You’re insane…” someone whispered from the crowd, though no one could tell who had said it.

But Lyerin didn’t stop. His gaze swept the room, taking in the faces of his family, the powerful figures of the Borgias.

“This… this is what a long, long time does to a person.” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “You, father, and the rest of you… you have no idea what it’s like to live for as long as I have. A hundred thousand years. Can you even comprehend that?” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

However, the crowd were clueless of what Lyerin was saying. Is he really crazy?

“Do you know what happens to a mind after it’s been alive for that long? It changes. It warps.”

His voice grew darker, more sinister.

“I’ve developed this… personality over those years. This is also why I died, Father. You probably don’t even know that part, do you?”

His eyes flashed as he looked directly at Lyuzen, the twisted grin returning.

“I helped the Emperor Wizard grow in power. I let him grow so strong that he finally made a scheme against me. I could have stopped him, but I didn’t. I allowed it, because I plan to surprise him. But the moment I plan to surprise him and take his life, I was the one who was surprised. All because of this… need. This twisted urge to see how far the game could go.”

Lyerin chuckled softly, the sound sending chills down the spines of those gathered.

His gaze wandered toward the ceiling, lost in the memory of his death, before he continued.

“I didn’t mind dying, you know. I actually found it exciting. The whole scheme, the betrayal—it was thrilling. And now, here I am, ready to do it all over again.”

The air in the room was stifling. No one dared to speak.

The Borgias Family members shifted uneasily, their confidence shaken by the madness they were witnessing.

What is he saying?

Was he really mad?

Lyerin’s expression darkened suddenly, his gaze snapping back to the present. “But do you want to know the real reason I spared that blonde girl?”

His voice took on a menacing edge. “I wasn’t sure if this personality of mine was something the Borgias Family had created, or if it was truly mine. I thought… maybe… just maybe, I could change. That I could start over.”

He laughed bitterly. “But after seeing my dear mother again, after realizing how much I enjoyed her betrayal, I understood something.”

His eyes glinted with malicious glee as he looked directly at Lyuzen. “I don’t care. Not about her, not about any of you. I don’t hate you, Father. I don’t even hate Mother for betraying me. I love it. I love all of it!”

Lyuzen’s heart clenched at his son’s words, but his face remained impassive. But he thinks Lyerin was completely crazy and he knew why.

He won’t let it.

This Lyerin seemed to know a lot, they plan to take those knowledge back.

He had to find a way to reach him.

“Lyerin,” he began, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

“You’re in pain. You feel like you’ve been cast aside, that you’re not part of the family, and for that… I apologize. We had our reasons, but it was never meant to hurt you like this. You’re still one of us. You’ve always been one of us.”

Lyuzen’s voice faltered, but he pressed on.

“If you come back to us, we won’t blame you. We won’t hold any of this against you. In fact, we’ll give you an important position in the family. You can do whatever you want from now on. No restrictions. You’ll have all the power you desire. Just… come back.”

The room was tense, the atmosphere thick with anticipation as everyone held their breath, waiting for Lyerin’s response. But instead of considering his father’s offer, Lyerin’s expression twisted into one of annoyance.

“Oh, you still don’t get it, do you?” he snapped, his voice sharp with irritation. “You think I’m joking? That this is some childish rebellion? How about this then?” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. “Salt Mist.”

The words left Lyerin’s lips like a curse, and before anyone could react, the room was engulfed in a thick, swirling mist.

It rolled out from Lyerin’s raised hand, spreading faster than any of them could have imagined, covering every inch of the chamber in an instant.

The mist was dense, suffocating, and carried an unnatural coldness that seeped into their bones.

Visibility dropped to almost nothing as the Borgias Family members scrambled, their shadows distorted by the swirling fog.

Panic rippled through them as they struggled to understand what was happening.

This mist was no ordinary illusion—it was infused with a dark, tangible power.

“Lyerin! What is this?!”

Lyuzen’s voice echoed through the mist, but there was no reply.

Only the faint sound of Lyerin’s eerie laughter drifting through the fog.

Lord Victor, ever the pragmatist, tried to reach out with his power, attempting to dissipate the mist, but it clung to him like a second skin, choking and smothering any magic he attempted to conjure.

The other members of the family, including the scarred man in the suit, were equally paralyzed by the fog.

Even their strongest Eldren Lords struggled to move, their bodies weighed down by the unnatural force pressing in on them.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the mist stopped expanding. It settled around them, thick and unmoving, trapping them all inside.

Silence fell once more, broken only by the occasional shuffling of feet and the rasp of labored breathing.

In the midst of it all, Lyerin’s voice cut through the mist, cold and mocking. “Do you see now? You can’t contain me. You never could. And this is just a taste of what’s to come.”

Suddenly, the mist would disappear, so does Lyerin, and they would see the strongest member, the man in suit with scars, had a black sludge-like spear in the center of his head, holding a scroll in his hands.