LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Velros stood in the shadow of the towering maze walls, with his chest heaving with exertion.

Every attempt to break free of the invisible barrier above had drained his energy, leaving him feeling heavier than ever before.

He gazed up at the sky, frustration gnawing at him like a festering wound.

"Impossible," he muttered to himself, his wings twitching with irritation. "How can there be magic this strong in such a place? A mere human tribe—there's no way they should have this kind of power."

He clenched his fists, feeling the residual magic that seemed to crawl through the air, restricting his flight.

The helplessness he was feeling was sinking in, and it was as chilling as the wind that swept through the maze.

He couldn't fly out.

Something—no, someone—had cast a magic far beyond his comprehension, and it was keeping him grounded.

Velros glanced down the winding paths of the maze below. He hated the thought of being trapped, forced to play by the rules of whoever had constructed this damned labyrinth.

But if he couldn't fly over it, then he'd have to move through it.

"There's no choice," he muttered darkly. "I'll have to find the exit, just like these pitiful humans." His pride stung at the comparison, but he knew better than to let arrogance blind him now. "I need to get out of this infernal place."

As he steeled himself to enter the maze, a distant sound caught his attention.

It started as a faint wail, carried on the wind, but it grew louder, more frantic. Screams.

"HEEEEEEEELLLLLPPPP!!!"

Velros's heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. He knew those voices—his comrades, his brothers-in-arms.

"The Skyclaws…" he whispered, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Why are they screaming?"

His pulse quickened as more screams echoed through the maze, filling the air with terror.

The chilling sounds felt like a nail hammered deep in his skull, worming their way into his mind. He could feel the cold creeping along his spine, a deep, unsettling fear that twisted his insides.

He knew those screams, knew the voices behind them—warriors who had fought countless battles, men who had never known fear like this.

But now they were screaming as if something unimaginable had gripped them.

"What is happening?" Velros said, his voice trembling slightly. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the rising dread that clawed at his chest. "Why are they screaming like that?"

He stood frozen for a moment, listening to the relentless cries of terror.

Each scream sent another shiver down his spine, colder and more piercing than the last.

The air seemed to grow heavier with every sound, suffocating him in an invisible blanket of fear.

The cold sensation crept further, until it felt like ice was running through his veins.

His wings twitches involuntarily, as if every instinct in his body telling him to flee, to get away from the source of those horrifying screams.

But he couldn't leave them.

"I need to find them," he muttered under his breath, clenching his jaw. His hands shook, not from exhaustion, but from the unknown fear gripping him from within. "I can't just leave them behind…"

Without further hesitation, Velros stepped into the maze, his sharp talons clicking against the stone floor as he moved.

The screams grew louder with every step he took, echoing off the narrow walls, bouncing back and forth until it felt like the very maze itself was alive with the sound of suffering.

The path ahead twisted and turned, each corner revealing nothing but more stone walls, but the screams remained constant.

"Where are they?" Velros growled, frustration mixing with his fear. He had always relied on his wings, on his ability to soar above the battlefield, and now that advantage was stripped from him.

He was just like any other warrior, trapped on the ground, lost in a labyrinth that made no sense.

As he rounded another corner, Velros came face-to-face with one of the creatures responsible for the chaos.

A hulking figure blocked the path ahead, its massive body towering over him.

It was a Pig Orc, a creature of brute strength and savagery.

Its skin was a sickly, mottled pink, and its bulging muscles rippled beneath its flesh.

The creature's beady eyes gleamed with malice as it hefted an enormous axe over its shoulder, the blade gleaming wickedly in the dim light.

In its other hand, it held a crude wooden shield, scarred from countless battles.

Velros's eyes narrowed as he took in the creature. "So this is what we're dealing with," he muttered. "Raging pigs with oversized weapons. Pathetic."

The Pig Orc let out a guttural roar, RAAOOIINNKKK!! its tusks gleaming as it charged toward Velros with terrifying speed, its axe raised high above its head.

Velros reacted instantly, his wings flaring out as he summoned his magic.

With a sharp gesture, a glowing magic circle appeared in his hands, shimmering with pale blue light.

Wind magic—his specialty.

With a flick of his wrists, he unleashed a powerful slash of wind, the air cutting through the maze like a blade.

"Swoosh!"

The wind magic struck the Pig Orc head-on, slashing through the air with deadly precision.

The creature raised its shield to block the attack, KABAMG! and Velros watched in satisfaction as the shield was sliced cleanly in half, the top half clattering to the ground in pieces.

But to his surprise, the Pig Orc remained standing. Though its shield had been destroyed, the creature's body was unharmed, the wind slash stopping just short of cutting into its flesh.

The Orc snarled, its beady eyes narrowing in rage as it hefted its axe again.

Velros's lip curled in amusement. "Resilient, aren't you?" he sneered. "Let's see how long that lasts."

He raised his hands again, ready to conjure another spell. But before he could, something strange happened.

The Pig Orcs—there were more of them now, emerging from the shadows—had grouped together, raising what remained of their shields in a tight formation.

Velros's eyes widened in disbelief.

These creatures… they weren't as brainless as he'd thought.

They were using tactics, defending themselves against his magic with surprising coordination.

"They're… not idiots," Velros muttered under his breath, watching as the Pig Orcs advanced cautiously.

They weren't charging recklessly anymore.

They had seen his power, and now they were being careful.

Velros grinned, his amusement growing. "Well, this just got interesting."

With a sharp gesture, he prepared to unleash another wind attack, but as his magic flowed through his entire being and wings, his eyes widened in shock.

Something was wrong.

The magic sputtered and flickered in his hands, with the glowing circles immediately fading in and out of existence.

His wings trembled as the wind magic faltered, refusing to gather the way it should.

"What…?"

Velros's heart thrump hard and loud as he stared at his hands, confusion and fear gripping him.

Why wasn't his magic working?

It had never failed him before, not in all his years as a warrior. Yet now, in the face of these Pig Orcs, it was slipping through his fingers like sand.

His mind began to buzz, trying to comprehend what was happening, but before he could figure it out, the Pig Orcs began their charge again.