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LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

What if a power to level up or upgrade everything—your way of living, battle skills, military prowess, etc.—but this power is limited to your Eldritch tribe. Would you expand your tribe to rise above all adversaries, would you use it to gain more personal power or use it to toy with everyone? Lyerin wanted nothing more than peace on himself, but all he had was regret. He possessed a secret ability that allowed him to quickly excel at anything he chose, but he could only use it once. While others had to spend a long time to reach higher levels or master new skills, he only needed to complete a simple, specific task to level up. However, he had already used this ability to count a specific number of sand grains to save his own life. After that, his existence became a living hell. One day, he was unexpectedly sent back in time, where he would witness numbers appearing in the sky, signaling the end of the world again—an apocalypse he despised the most! But Lyerin realized he could use his ability once more, this time on a certain group of people. A TRIBE! ``` [ Ding! ] [ You have chosen to level up knife slash! As a Wildling of your tribe, you can level up your knife slash. ] [ Condition: Slash the knife 500 times. ] [ You have chosen a random tree to level up! The tree is part of your tribe; you can level it up. ] [ Condition: Water the tree 300 times. ] [ You cannot level up anymore due to your limited rank within the tribe. Raise your rank in the clan first. ] [ Condition: Give honor to the tribe. ] [ You have reached the peak level of your tribe. If you want to level up further, improve and level up your clan! ] [ Condition: Level up the Ancestral Healing Ritual, level up the Newborn Den, and level up the tribe's farm. ] ``` With this overpowered ability, can he still hold onto his selfish wish for peace within himself? Warnings: 1. Cold, Calculated and Cunning MC. 2. After 100+ chapters will be bloody.

Notorious_911 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
375 Chs

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Lyerin knew the truth—had lived it.

The Borgias Family cared only about their pureblood members, their true heirs.

Halflings like him, born of mixed blood, were nothing more than tools or pawns, tolerated only as long as they served a purpose.

The idea that any of these people's fathers or mothers were truly safe was a cruel joke. More likely, they were dead or dying, victims of the same chaos that had engulfed the world.

He felt a pang of bitterness in his chest, the old wounds reopening as memories of his own mother surfaced.

She had loved him, or at least she had pretended to. But Lyerin had always known, deep down, that her affection was tainted by resentment, by the shame of having given birth to a halfling.

He remembered the way she would look at him when she thought he wasn't watching—the sadness in her eyes, the bitterness that marred her smile.