LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

From the point of view of the Skyclaw Brotherhood, the atmosphere in the air was heavy as they ascended higher into the sky, the wind buffeting against their wings.

Velros Skybreaker, their leader, flew in silence, his gaze locked on the maze below.

The rest of the Brotherhood followed, but murmurs of confusion and concern began to ripple through the ranks.

"Why are we retreating, Velros?" one of the warriors finally called out, breaking the silence. "We could've destroyed them easily from above."

Another chimed in, "The humans down there are nothing compared to us! We should swoop down and finish this quickly. Why waste time flying circles?"

Velros kept his silence until they were high enough, far above the maze and the scattered remnants of the Raging Pigs below.

The maze stretched out beneath them like a vast, intricate labyrinth, but to the Skyclaw Brotherhood, it was a trivial obstacle. Yet Velros couldn't shake the unease growing heavily in his chest.

Finally, as they circled the air currents, he spoke.

"We're not retreating," Velros said, his voice hard and commanding. "We're executing the Typhon Formation."

A stunned silence fell over the Brotherhood, followed by immediate protests.

"The Typhon Formation?!" one of the warriors squawked, his wings twitching in agitation. "But why? This is just a weak human tribe!"

Another shouted, "Why would we need to use ultimate destruction magic for a mere group of humans? We could crush them with basic skyfire spells!"

The complaints kept coming, building a cacophony of discontent among the warriors.

One of the older Skyclaws, with feathers mottled by age but sharp eyes gleaming with experience, flew closer to Velros.

"Leader, with all due respect, the Typhon Formation is for dire situations, not for insignificant tribes, it was an almost destructive attack! If we use it here, what happens when we encounter other groups—groups that are actually a threat?"

Velros's brow furrowed, his expression growing darker with each complaint.

He had expected pushback, but the reality of the situation weighed on him.

He had no concrete evidence that this human tribe was anything more than what they appeared to be. And yet… something gnawed at him, a sense of danger that he couldn't ignore.

Another warrior added, his tone urgent, "Leader, what if this mission—this goal to kill the humans—is based on false information? What if we've been misled? We're using our most powerful magic on a tribe that, so far, hasn't shown any capability to fight back. We're risking everything for what?"

Velros clenched his jaw, his mind racing. He could feel their doubt, their confusion, but he knew—deep in his gut—that Lyerin wasn't just some weak human leader.

His instincts screamed that there was more at play here.

The human had exuded a confidence that no mere tribal leader should have, especially in the face of the Skyclaw Brotherhood.

"Enough!" Velros's voice cracked like a whip, silencing the murmurs and complaints. His eyes blazed with a fierce determination as he glared at his subordinates. "Just do what I'm telling you to do! There's no time for second-guessing!"

The Brotherhood went quiet, their wings beating in unison as they awaited his next command.

Velros continued, his voice low but filled with authority, "I'm sure that the human isn't what he seems. That tribe isn't as weak as you think. Do any of you truly believe we've been given a mission to kill a weakling? Use your heads. The one who made this survival game wanted him dead for some unknown reason. Have to be careful…"

A ripple of unease passed through the warriors.

Velros had always been more cautious than the rest, more willing to question the true motives behind their missions.

Velros pressed on, his voice cutting through the tension. "I could feel that the human tribe are like tigers in sheep's clothing. They look vulnerable, but underneath lies a threat that we didn't know but also can't afford to ignore. That's why we use the Typhon Formation—because this isn't a normal fight. This is survival. Now, enough talk.

Let's go."

The Brotherhood fell into a disciplined silence, their leader's conviction enough to quell the last of their doubts.

Reluctantly, they began to form up, flying in a tight, controlled pattern that would allow them to execute the Typhon Formation.

The air around them began to crackle with energy, faint tendrils of magic coiling around their wings as they prepared to unleash their ultimate destruction spell.

---

Meanwhile, on the ground below, Lyerin watched the Birdmen continue to circle above his Stonehooves Tribe.

He could feel the pressure in the air, the shift in the wind that signaled an impending attack.

His lips curled into a sneer as he recognized the buildup of energy in the sky.

"A sky attack magic, huh?" he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Too cowardly to attack head-on, so they resort to this."

Behind him, the members of the Stonehooves Tribe shifted uneasily.

Corora and the others glanced up, fear flickering in their eyes as the swirling energy above became more apparent.

However, Lyerin paid them no mind.

His focus was on the Birdmen, and the anticipation of their next move filled him with a twisted kind of excitement.

Suddenly, the Minotaur—who had been standing idle within the maze—stirred.

For too long, it had been held in check by Lyerin's control, reduced to a mere sentinel. But now, sensing the approaching threat from the sky, it looked upward, its massive body tensing as if awakening from a slumber.

Lyerin felt the shift in the Minotaur's stance.

He had been planning to use his own combat core to deal with the Skyclaw Brotherhood, but he knew that if he did so, his title as tribal leader might be revoked.

So, he didn't have a choice but let the minotaur do it.

With a sigh of resignation, Lyerin released his hold on the Minotaur. "Go," he murmured under his breath. "Show them why they should fear us."

The Minotaur's response was immediate.

Its muscles rippled beneath its stone-like skin as it threw its head back and roared, a thunderous sound that echoed across the maze.

ROOOOOOAARRRRRR!!!

The force of the roar sent a shockwave through the air, causing the very ground beneath them to tremble.

---

High above, the Skyclaw Brotherhood was on the brink of unleashing their magic.

The swirling cyclones of energy around them intensified, crackling with the power of the Typhoon Formation. Velros watched the tribe below, his sharp eyes narrowing in focus.

But then, the roar of the Minotaur reached them, shaking the very air around them.

The sound was so powerful that it disrupted the energy they had been gathering.

The cyclone faltered for a moment, like the magic itself was wavering.

"Ignore it!" Velros barked, his voice sharp and commanding. "It's just a distraction! Focus on the formation!"

The Brotherhood obeyed, forcing themselves to concentrate as they resumed their tight formation. But something was wrong. Velros could feel it in his bones.

The magic wasn't flowing the way it should.

Despite their efforts, the energy of the Typhoon Formation wasn't getting stronger.

It was as if something was holding it back, preventing them from reaching their full potential.

Velros frowned, his mind racing as he scanned the sky.

What was happening?

Why wasn't their magic building up as it should?

He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the swirling energy around them. And then, in a moment of realization, Velros muttered under his breath, "Why... why is the magic not getting stronger?"