LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe - Chapter 376

Chapter 376: Listening
The soldiers walked away from Lyerin, their footsteps heavy on the compacted soil as the faint glow of the night’s crescent moon cast elongated shadows across the landscape.

The tension among them was palpable, their silence loaded with unspoken thoughts.

They didn’t march far before a soft murmuring began to ripple through the group, their voices hushed yet urgent.

One of the soldiers, a burly man with a deep scar etched across his left cheek, glanced over his shoulder to ensure they were out of Lyerin’s earshot before speaking up.

“I’m not sure about this,” he muttered, his voice low but firm. “Listening to that man… it feels like playing a game where only he knows the rules.”

Another soldier, a wiry man with sharp features and a perpetual scowl, responded quickly, “What choice do we have? We’ve failed too many times. Every attempt has been a disaster, and that beast is still out there. If Lyerin really knows how to handle it, maybe we should consider it.”

The scarred man scoffed, shaking his head. “And you think he’s helping us out of the goodness of his heart? That man enjoys watching us struggle. He’d probably laugh if we all got slaughtered out there.”

“But he hasn’t lied to us,” interjected a younger soldier, his voice tinged with both hesitation and hope. “Every time he’s given us advice, it’s made sense. We just… we haven’t followed through properly.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” said another voice, a woman with a commanding presence and a no-nonsense demeanor. She adjusted the hilt of her sword as she spoke, her tone measured.

“We’ve been second-guessing him at every turn. If we keep doing that, we’ll never know if his strategies actually work. For all we know, we’ve been sabotaging ourselves by ignoring him.”

A murmur of agreement began to ripple through the group, but the scarred man was not so easily convinced. “And what happens when his ‘strategy’ gets us killed? He won’t lift a finger to save us. He’s made that clear.”

The wiry man crossed his arms, his expression darkening.

“Do you think we’ll have better odds stumbling around blindly, doing things our way? We’ve been doing that for days, and where has it gotten us? Injuries, wasted resources, and no closer to killing that beast.”

The group fell into a tense silence, the only sounds the distant rustling of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets. Finally, the woman broke the quiet.

“Look, we don’t have to trust Lyerin’s motives, but we can’t deny his knowledge. If he’s right about the beast’s behavioral patterns, then we’ve been wasting our energy attacking it during the day.

“He said it thrives in darkness but hides during the day to avoid competition. That alone shows he understands something we don’t.”

The younger soldier nodded fervently. “And he told us about the terrain, the traps, the bait—everything. If we follow his advice to the letter, maybe we’ll finally have a chance.”

The scarred man let out a long sigh, running a hand over his face. “Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But if this backfires, I’m holding all of you accountable.”

The woman shot him a sharp look. “No. If it backfires, we’ll all take responsibility. We’re a team, remember? And that means we either rise together or fall together.”

Her words seemed to settle the group, their collective resolve hardening as they exchanged determined glances. One by one, they nodded in agreement, their earlier doubts melting away in the face of necessity.

“Alright,” the wiry man said, his voice steady. “We’ll do it his way. But this time, no shortcuts, no second-guessing. We follow his plan exactly as he laid it out.”

The soldiers murmured their assent, their confidence slowly rebuilding.

They tightened their gear, adjusted their weapons, and checked their supplies, their movements infused with a newfound sense of purpose.

They knew the stakes were high, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, they had a clear path forward.

As the last preparations were made, the woman stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the group. “Let’s move out,” she commanded, her voice firm yet calm. “We’ve wasted enough time. Tonight, we hunt.”

The soldiers formed into a tight formation, their steps synchronized as they began their march into the dark wilderness.

The night seemed to close in around them, the air heavy with anticipation.

Each step brought them closer to their target, and for the first time, they carried with them not just weapons and supplies, but a glimmer of hope.

Whether Lyerin’s plan would succeed or not, they were determined to see it through.

The soldiers marched into the dense wilderness under the cover of night, the air around them cool and still.

Shadows from the towering trees loomed over their path, stretching and twisting in the faint moonlight.

They moved cautiously, each step deliberate, their breath nearly synchronized as they navigated the uneven terrain.

This time, there were no hushed arguments, no whispered doubts. For the first time since their harrowing journey began, the group was unified in their purpose.

They reached a clearing that Lyerin had described with unnerving accuracy—a natural hollow surrounded by thick, twisted roots and jagged rocks.

It felt secluded, an ideal spot for their plan to unfold.

The faint rustling of leaves and occasional chirps of nocturnal creatures accompanied their quiet preparation.

The soldiers spread out methodically, each recalling Lyerin’s detailed instructions as they began setting up the traps.

First, they dug shallow pits around the clearing, placing sharpened stakes at the bottom, careful to cover them with thin layers of leaves and dirt that blended seamlessly with the natural surroundings.

They marked the locations of the pits with subtle indicators only they would recognize—scratches on nearby tree trunks, or stones arranged in odd patterns—ensuring they wouldn’t accidentally fall victim to their own devices.

Next came the bait, prepared with painstaking care.

Lyerin had explained in excruciating detail how to concoct the mixture, using crushed herbs, animal fat, and remnants from their failed hunts.

The resulting paste emitted a pungent, musky aroma that made some soldiers gag as they smeared it onto tree trunks and rocks.

According to Lyerin, the scent mimicked the pheromones of the beast’s prey and would be impossible for it to resist.

They strategically placed the bait in the center of the clearing, ensuring that any approach would lead the beast directly into their trap.

Once the bait was set, they reinforced their defenses.

Nets woven from tough vines were draped across the upper branches, rigged to collapse at the pull of a trigger vine.

The soldiers double-checked every knot, every anchor point, knowing that one weak spot could spell disaster.

Spiked barricades were erected at key points, designed to funnel the beast into the heart of the clearing where their traps lay waiting.

Their final task was the most delicate: positioning themselves.

Lyerin had warned them to stay hidden, to remain downwind of the clearing so the beast wouldn’t catch their scent.

The soldiers climbed into trees or crouched behind boulders, each selecting a vantage point that allowed them a clear view of the bait without exposing themselves.

Weapons were drawn but kept steady, their blades gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

Bows were strung and arrows notched, the tips coated in a toxin Lyerin had advised them to use sparingly.

Time passed slowly as they waited, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of a tree branch or the rustle of leaves underfoot.

The air was thick with tension, each soldier hyperaware of their surroundings.

Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent a jolt of adrenaline through their veins. Yet they remained disciplined, their movements minimal, their focus unbroken.

The younger soldier, the one who had shown hope even in the group’s darkest moments, shifted slightly in his hiding spot, his eyes scanning the clearing with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

“This has to work,” he whispered to himself, gripping the hilt of his blade tightly.

Nearby, the woman with the commanding presence nodded subtly in agreement, though her sharp eyes never wavered from the clearing.

Minutes stretched into hours, the night growing colder as the moon climbed higher in the sky.

The soldiers felt their muscles ache from staying still for so long, but none dared to move.

They knew the beast was patient, cautious. It wouldn’t reveal itself until it was certain the area was safe.

Then, faintly at first, came the sound they had been waiting for: the soft crunch of leaves, the faint snapping of twigs.

It was almost imperceptible, but to the soldiers who had honed their senses in countless nights of failed hunts, it was unmistakable.

The beast was coming.

They tightened their grips on their weapons, their breaths shallow as they braced themselves.

The faint rustling grew louder, closer, accompanied by an occasional low growl that sent a chill down their spines.

Their eyes darted toward the clearing, toward the bait that glistened faintly under the moonlight.

And then, silence.

The beast was close, but it was clever. It had stopped just beyond their line of sight, perhaps sensing something amiss.

The soldiers froze, their bodies tense as they waited for the next move.

The clearing was deathly quiet, the kind of quiet that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.

The woman adjusted her grip on her bow, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the shadows. “It’s testing us,” she thought, her mind racing through Lyerin’s teachings. “It knows we’re here. It’s trying to find a weakness.”

For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened.

The soldiers exchanged subtle glances, their expressions a mix of determination and fear. And then, from the darkness, came a low, guttural growl that seemed to reverberate through the air. It was a warning, a challenge.

The soldiers held their ground, their hearts pounding in unison. They knew the beast was close, closer than it had ever been before.

They had followed Lyerin’s advice to the letter, set the perfect trap, and now all they could do was wait.

Wait for the beast to make its move.