LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe - Chapter 380

Chapter 380: Rumble
The soldiers trudged forward through the dense forest, their bodies aching from the previous battle, but their spirits fueled by the thrill of another hunt. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting its silvery glow over the terrain, as the group followed the faint trail left by their new quarry. This beast was larger, its tracks deeper and more deliberate, a sharp contrast to the chaotic swarm they had faced before.

“There,” one of them whispered, pointing to a shadow moving stealthily in the distance. The shape was massive, and its movements, though slow, carried an undeniable power. The beast was heavily built, with thick, coarse fur that bristled under the moonlight. Its glowing amber eyes scanned its surroundings, its snout sniffing the air cautiously as if it sensed it was being followed.

“It’s heading toward the clearing,” Donovan said in a low voice, signaling for the others to keep their distance. “Stay quiet. We’ll let it fall into the trap before we strike.”

The soldiers nodded, spreading out in a careful formation as they moved silently through the underbrush. Every step was deliberate, every rustle of leaves or crunch of twigs met with a wince as they tried to remain undetected. The air was thick with tension, the only sounds the faint rustle of the wind and the steady, deliberate movements of the beast.

As they reached the edge of the clearing, the soldiers crouched low, their eyes fixed on the massive creature as it approached the trap they had prepared. The beast paused, its ears flicking, its nose sniffing the ground as if sensing something amiss. For a moment, it hesitated, its muscles tensing as though ready to bolt.

“Wait…” Donovan whispered, his hand raised to signal patience. “Just a little closer…”

The beast took a tentative step forward, then another, its massive paws inches away from triggering the hidden snare. The soldiers held their breath, their grips tightening on their weapons as they prepared for the moment to strike.

But just as the trap was about to spring, a distant sound broke through the stillness of the night—a low, resonant trumpet that echoed through the forest like a haunting call.

The beast froze, its ears swiveling toward the sound. For a moment, it stood completely still, its amber eyes wide with alertness. Then, without warning, it turned and bolted, its powerful legs propelling it away from the clearing and into the dense woods before the soldiers could react.

“Wait, what was that?” one soldier asked, his voice tinged with panic as he rose to his feet.

“A trumpet?” another replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Who could be out here blowing a trumpet in the middle of the night?”

Donovan cursed under his breath, his eyes scanning the dark horizon where the sound had come from. “It’s not just anyone. That wasn’t random.”

The soldiers looked at one another, their earlier confidence now replaced with unease. The beast was gone, their carefully laid trap rendered useless, and now there was a new mystery to contend with.

“Do we go after it?” someone asked, his voice hesitant.

Donovan shook his head. “No. Whatever blew that trumpet, it’s not something we’re ready to face right now. We head back. Regroup.”

With reluctant nods, the group began their trek back to camp, their minds racing with questions about the strange sound and its implications. The forest seemed darker now, the shadows deeper, as if the trumpet’s call had awakened something far more dangerous than the beast they had been hunting.

As the soldiers began their reluctant retreat, the tension among them was palpable. The frustration of losing the beast, coupled with the eerie trumpet call that had disrupted their hunt, weighed heavily on their spirits. Their weapons dangled loosely in their grips as they trudged through the forest, their ears still attuned to the faint echoes of the strange sound that had sent the beast fleeing.

“Regroup,” Donovan muttered, his voice low and steady, though there was an unmistakable edge of wariness. “We’ll figure out what’s going on once we’re back.”

The others nodded silently, their boots crunching over the forest floor. The dense canopy above allowed only slivers of moonlight to break through, painting the path ahead in fragmented shadows. But as they walked, something subtle began to shift in the air—a faint vibration beneath their feet, almost imperceptible at first.

One soldier paused, his brow furrowing as he glanced downward. “Did you feel that?”

The others stopped, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Feel what?” one asked, though his voice lacked confidence.

“It’s… the ground. It’s shaking,” the first replied, his tone cautious, his eyes scanning the forest floor as if expecting it to betray him at any moment.

A hushed silence fell over the group as they stood still, their ears straining to catch any sound. For a moment, it seemed like nothing—just the whisper of the wind through the trees and the distant rustle of leaves. But then it came again.

A faint tremor.

Barely noticeable, like the heartbeat of the earth itself, pulsing softly beneath their boots.

“Must be your imagination,” someone scoffed, though the unease in his voice betrayed his attempt at dismissiveness.

But the tremor came again.

This time stronger.

The group stiffened, their weapons held tightly now as the vibration became more pronounced. It was no longer a faint pulse—it was a steady, rhythmic rumble, like something stirring deep beneath the surface.

“Okay, now everyone feels that, right?” a soldier whispered, his eyes darting around nervously.

“Yeah,” Donovan replied, his voice sharp as he tried to keep his composure. “Stay alert. It could be—”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

The ground beneath them gave a low, guttural groan, and suddenly the trembling intensified. What had started as a subtle vibration was now a full-blown rumble, growing louder and more violent with each passing second. The soldiers staggered, struggling to keep their balance as the earth beneath their feet seemed to come alive.

“Is it an earthquake?!” one of them shouted, his voice barely audible over the deafening sound of the ground shifting and cracking.

“No way,” another replied, his eyes wide with panic. “This… this feels wrong!”

The forest around them began to react to the chaos. Leaves shook violently in the trees, and loose branches tumbled to the ground. Birds took to the air in frantic flocks, their panicked cries adding to the cacophony. Even the distant howls of nocturnal predators seemed to fade into the background as the rumbling reached an almost unbearable crescendo.

“Everyone, stay together!” Donovan barked, his voice commanding as he tried to rally the group. “We need to move!”

But moving was easier said than done. The ground wasn’t just shaking now—it was buckling and twisting, as if unseen forces were waging a battle beneath the surface.

Cracks began to spiderweb through the forest floor, some small and shallow, others yawning open like dark, gaping wounds. From these cracks, an ominous sound emanated—a low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through their very bones.

“What the hell is happening?!” someone screamed, panic overtaking his voice as he stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding a newly formed crevice.

Donovan didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of the chaos, but nothing about this felt natural. The tremors were too deliberate, the timing too precise, as if something—someone—was orchestrating it.

The rumble reached its peak, a deafening roar that drowned out everything else. The soldiers clutched their weapons and each other, their faces pale with fear as they braced themselves against the violence of the earth.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

The silence that followed was oppressive, almost suffocating, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The soldiers stood frozen, their bodies tense and their eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of what had caused the upheaval.

“What… what was that?” one finally whispered, his voice trembling.

No one answered.

The only sound was their ragged breathing, the forest eerily still around them. The cracks in the ground remained, like scars carved into the earth, and the faint hum from their depths lingered, a haunting reminder of the chaos they had just endured.

Donovan’s grip on his weapon tightened as he glanced at his comrades. “No,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time but no less resolute. “We’re not staying here to find out.”

But even as they began to move, the unease lingered, a heavy weight pressing down on them. Whatever had caused the tremors, it wasn’t over. And deep down, they all knew it.

As the soldiers began their reluctant retreat, the tension among them was palpable. The frustration of losing the beast, coupled with the eerie trumpet call that had disrupted their hunt, weighed heavily on their spirits. Their weapons dangled loosely in their grips as they trudged through the forest, their ears still attuned to the faint echoes of the strange sound that had sent the beast fleeing.