LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

The moment Lyerin saw that everyone had retreated to a safe distance, he wasted no time.

The ground beneath him still trembled from the Minotaur's stirring, but Lyerin was calm, as if he had expected this.

With practiced precision, he reached into his pouch and pulled out another powder—a different mixture this time, one potent enough to sedate even the most resistant of creatures.

He threw it in the air with a flick of his wrist, and the cloud of shimmering dust cascaded down onto the Minotaur's face.

The beast inhaled the powder involuntarily, its body shaking as it fought against the effects. But after a few moments of struggle, its movements slowed, and once again, it collapsed to the ground with a thunderous crash.

The earth shuddered beneath the weight of its body, and for a moment, everything was still.

But that stillness did not last.

A strange, eerie phenomenon began to unfold.

From the Stonehooves Tribe's statue, which had stood silent and untouched until now, a ghostly bridge of smoke began to form.

The bridge twisted and curled through the air like a serpent, its tendrils of ethereal mist swirling toward the sleeping Minotaur.

The tribe members who had been watching from a distance gasped in awe and fear as the smoky apparition took shape, linking the statue and the Minotaur in a spectral connection.

Out of the bridge, two ghostly figures emerged.

One was the spirit of a Minotaur, rising from the slumbering body of the beast that lay at Lyerin's feet.

Its form was massive, just as powerful and menacing in death as it was in life.

The other figure, however, was different—it was the spirit of a Centaur, the ancient guardian of the Stonehooves Tribe.

The two ethereal beings locked eyes, their gazes full of ancient hatred, and without warning, they lunged at each other, the battle beginning with a force that shook the very fabric of reality.

The tribe watched in horrified fascination as the Minotaur spirit charged the Centaur, their ghostly forms clashing in the air above the bridge.

Their every move caused the bridge to ripple and crackle, as if the smoke itself could barely contain their fury.

Each hit from the Minotaur sent shockwaves through the sky, and though the Centaur fought back valiantly, it was clear that the Minotaur was stronger, fueled by an ancient rage that could not be quelled.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each strike from the Minotaur spirit echoed like thunder across the sky, the force of its blows pushing the Centaur further and further back.

The Centaur struggled to hold its ground, but it was no match for the overwhelming strength of the Minotaur.

Slowly but surely, the Centaur was losing, its form flickering and weakening with each passing moment.

Lyerin, standing atop the slumbering Minotaur's body, watched the battle with narrowed eyes.

He could feel the tension rising, the Minotaur's victory drawing near. But then, something unexpected happened. He felt a movement beneath him—a tremor, a stirring.

The Minotaur's body, the one lying at his feet, was beginning to move again. Its muscles tensed, its limbs twitched, and Lyerin knew that it was waking up.

"Not yet," Lyerin muttered under his breath. He couldn't afford for the Minotaur to awaken, not now, not while the spirit battle was still raging.

Without hesitation, he reached into his pouch once more and threw another handful of powder at the creature's face.

The powder cloud descended upon the Minotaur, but this time, something was different.

The Minotaur's body jerked, but it did not fall back into slumber.

Its eyes remained closed, yet it stood, its body moving as if in a trance—a sleepwalking behemoth.

…

The shadows with six arms, watching from their distant vantage point, exchanged uneasy glances.

"What is happening now?" one of them murmured, its voice tinged with uncertainty.

"He's doing something... something we haven't seen before," another shadow replied, its six arms twitching in confusion. "But what? He throws powders as if he's playing with the beast, yet the creature still rises."

A third shadow nodded in agreement, its eyes narrowing. "I don't know what he's planning, but it feels... dangerous. Something about this doesn't sit right."

…

Lyerin, fully aware of the Minotaur's resistance to his powders now, adjusted his tactics.

The Minotaur's body was now standing, lumbering forward with slow, deliberate steps.

Its eyes remained shut, but it was clearly no longer asleep.

Lyerin cursed under his breath and quickly threw a different powder—this one was meant for confusion.

The effect was immediate.

The Minotaur halted mid-step, its body wavering as if it were unsure of where it was. Its massive hands reached out, swatting at the air, and its head turned from side to side as though it couldn't comprehend its surroundings.

Lyerin didn't stop there.

He followed the confusion powder with another—one for paralysis.

The Minotaur's movements slowed even further, its limbs locking up as the powder took effect.

But even as the Minotaur's body succumbed to the paralysis, the spirit battle above raged on.

The Minotaur spirit had the upper hand, and with a final, devastating blow, it sent the Centaur spirit crashing backward.

The Centaur was losing—its form was flickering, dimming, as it was pushed closer and closer to the statue from which it had emerged.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each hit from the Minotaur spirit reverberated through the air, causing the ground beneath Lyerin's feet to shake.

The Minotaur's body, despite the paralysis and confusion, began to thrash violently.

It swung its massive arms in wide arcs, destroying anything in its path.

Trees were uprooted, rocks were shattered, and the structures of the Stonehooves Tribe were crushed beneath the creature's blind rage.

Lyerin braced himself, clinging to the Minotaur's fur as it thrashed about. He could feel the chaos unfolding around him, but his focus was on the battle between the spirits.

The Centaur was on the verge of defeat, and if Lyerin didn't act fast, the Minotaur spirit would claim victory—and with it, control over the tribe.

"Come on..."

Lyerin muttered, his eyes darting between the Minotaur and the Centaur. He needed the Centaur to hold out just a little longer.

The Minotaur, still thrashing wildly, suddenly roared—a deafening sound that shook the heavens.

Lyerin gritted his teeth and threw yet another powder, this time aimed at further disorienting the beast. But it was too late.

The Minotaur's rage had reached its peak, and no powder could calm it now.

It swung its mighty arms, smashing through the last remnants of the tribe's structures, and with a final, ear-splitting roar, it charged.

The Centaur spirit, weakened and flickering, could do nothing as the Minotaur spirit crashed into it with all its fury.

The force of the impact sent the Centaur spiraling backward, slamming into the Stonehooves Tribe's statue with a resounding bang.

The statue shuddered, cracks forming along its base as the Centaur spirit was pushed back into the stone.

And then, in a final, climactic moment, the Minotaur spirit surged forward.

It roared triumphantly as it plunged into the statue, merging with it.

The bridge of smoke disappeared, and the statue began to glow with an eerie light as the Minotaur's essence was absorbed into it.

Lyerin, still clinging to the now motionless body of the Minotaur, smiled.

His plan had worked.