Stonehooves Tribe, established!

Lyerin and Corora found themselves in a dark, cavernous space filled with shelves upon shelves of magical artifacts.

The air was thick with the scent of ancient wood and aged parchment. Glowing runes floated in the air, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. Intricately crafted relics, some pulsating with magical energy, were carefully displayed under protective glass.

The entire place felt alive with the whispers of long-forgotten spells and the presence of powerful enchantments.

Suddenly, both of them felt a sharp, searing pain coursing through their bodies. Lyerin gritted his teeth while Corora let out a gasp.

Lord Victor's voice echoed around them, mocking and cold. "This isn't it. They are not original members of the tribe, so they are not pure."

In an instant, Lyerin and Corora were thrust back to where the Devil Horned Tribe had been.

The world spun around them, and they landed unceremoniously on the ground, 'Thud!' the remnants of the once-great tribe still smoldering around them.

Lyerin looked around, speechless, as he fixed his clothes, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Suddenly, a notification appeared before him:

[ Ding!

[ You have 30 seconds left to establish a tribe. If you do not, the tribe will be lost, and your leveling-up ability will be gone too. ]

Lyerin's heart immediately went red alert. He hadn't expected this.

Desperately, he closed his eyes and tried to remember the chant from his past life that would allow him to create a tribe.

Soon, the words slowly came back to him, and he began to chant, with his voice rising and falling with the rhythm of ancient power:

"Spirits of the earth and sky, hear my plea.

By the blood of the fallen and the strength of the living,

I call upon the ancient bonds that bind us.

From the ashes of our past, let a new tribe arise.

With hooves that thunder and horns that pierce the heavens,

We shall stand as one, united and strong.

Stone and bone, blood and spirit, come forth and heed my call.

By the power vested in me, I declare the birth of a new clan.

Let the earth tremble and the skies roar,

For we are the heirs of a legacy reborn.

Rise, oh tribe of the new age, and claim your destiny!"

As the last words of the chant echoed into the still air, another system screen appeared before Lyerin:

[ You have created a tribe. Would you like to replace the Devil Horned Tribe name? ]

Lyerin contemplated the question, mumbling three potential names to himself. "Ironhorns... no, too rigid. Skyclaws... no, too pretentious. Earthshakers... no, not quite right." Finally, he said, "Stonehooves Tribe."

He explained aloud to wake himself up, "The Stonehooves Tribe symbolizes our resilience and strength. Stone is unyielding, eternal, and steadfast. Hooves represent our connection to the earth, our determination, and our ability to traverse any terrain. We will rebuild stronger and more enduring than ever before."

Corora would look at him with curiousity, why did he say those words.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to tremble. From the soil, a vibrant aurora of light emerged, swirling and coalescing into the form of a creature. It was an unknown entity with magnificent hooves and majestic horns, glowing with ethereal light.

The spirit-like creature floated before them, its presence both awe-inspiring and serene.

Corora, eyes wide with shock, immediately climbed onto Lyerin for safety.

The spirit seemed to acknowledge their presence, its eyes filled with ancient wisdom and silent power.

To Lyerin, this was a familiar sight, a testament to the ritual's success and the tribe's rebirth.

"How far can I level up this time?" He mumbled, as he was in a peak apprentice Mana user right now. He was curious how far he would go if he leveled up further.

As the spirit's light enveloped them, Lyerin felt a deep connection to the earth and the legacy of the Stonehooves Tribe. He stood tall, ready to lead and rebuild, while Corora clung to him, with the fear on her face slowly transforming into awe and respect.

Suddenly, Lyerin sensed a presence nearby. Fearlessly, he turned to look and saw emerging from the shadows several humanoid figures with the sleek, predatory grace of snow leopards.

Their fur was a blend of white and grey, dotted with black rosettes, and their eyes glowed a menacing yellow in the dim light.

They moved with a silent, lethal elegance, as if their bodies were poised and ready for action anytime of the day.

One of the snow leopards, taller and more imposing than the others, stepped forward and spoke, with his voice a low, and threatening to rumble, he said, "We were just spying on the area, but we didn't expect the Devil Horned Tribe to meet their demise for some unknown reason. And yet, here we find two survivors."

The leader's gaze shifted to Corora, and his eyes gleamed with malicious intent. He smirked, revealing sharp, predatory teeth. "As for her," he said, his voice dripping with cruelty, "we'll have some fun before we kill her. Maybe we'll force her to serve us, to entertain us. She'll learn to fear and obey the Snow Leopard Tribe. We'll make her beg for mercy, but none will come. Every scream, every tear, will be a tribute to our strength and dominance."

Lyerin felt a surge of rage at these words, his blood boiling. But before he could react, another group emerged from the opposite direction.

They were humanoid Bisons, towering and covered in thick, shaggy hair. Their horns curled menacingly from their heads, and their eyes burned with fierce intensity.

The leader from the bison tribe, with a massive figure with muscles bulging under his fur, spoke up.

"No, no," he rumbled, his voice like an earthquake. "She'll come with us. Not a smelly pussycat like you deserves her. She'll become part of the Hundred Bison Tribe, serving us in ways you can't even imagine. We'll take her to our lands, and she'll know what true power is. You'll see her broken under our might, with a testament to our superiority."

The snow leopards hissed in anger, and the leader snarled, "Over our dead bodies, bison! She's ours. We saw her first. We'll take her, and there's nothing you can do about it."

The bison leader laughed, a deep, mocking sound. "Try and take her, then. We'll crush you like the insignificant pests you are. The Hundred Bison Tribe doesn't fear weaklings."

The two groups began to quarrel, their voices rising in a cacophony of insults and threats.

"Your tribe is nothing but cowards who hide behind your strength. You can't even fight without outnumbering your opponents!" one of the snow leopards spat.

"And you're nothing but sneaky, dishonorable thieves who strike from the shadows. You have no honor, no real strength!" a bison warrior retorted.

"We'll see who's stronger! We'll rip you apart, limb by limb!" another snow leopard snarled.

"You'll never touch us. We'll trample you into the ground, leaving nothing but bloody stains!" a bison growled.

Meanwhile, as the two tribes argued, Lyerin stood watching, his anger simmering.

Just as he was about to attack, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He turned to see Lord Victor standing there, with an expression that seemed to be unreadable.

"Tell me about the Devil Horned Tribe and their special blood," Lord Victor demanded, his voice cold and commanding.

Lyerin met his gaze steadily, masking his knowledge. "I don't know, Lord Victor. But maybe you can ask them." He pointed his goat-like fingers towards the two tribes, still locked in their heated argument.

The snow leopards and bison tribes continued to hurl insults and threats at each other, completely ignoring Lord Victor's presence.

"Lower your voices in my presence," Lord Victor ordered, his tone dangerously calm.

The two tribes turned to him, their eyes blazing with defiance. "Shut up, Borgias lackey!" one of the snow leopards screamed. "We agreed to work with the Borgias Family, but we are not their slaves!"

"Yeah, you have no authority over us!" a bison warrior shouted. "We don't take orders from you!"

Lyerin watched the scene unfold, a dark satisfaction bubbling inside him. The chaos and disorder were exactly what he wanted. He could see Lord Victor's patience wearing thin, his expression growing more and more enraged.

Finally, Lord Victor snapped. With a guttural growl, he began to chant a spell, with his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air.

The air crackled with dark energy, and with a unbothered expression, he unleashed his magic.

In an instant, the two arguing individuals from both clans were sliced in half, with their bodies collapsing to the ground in a gruesome display.