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Towering in the distance, strange creatures made entirely of plants wandered, their limbs resembling twisting roots, with the leaves blowing in the wind like fur, and petals arranged in threatening displays.

"Ahh, this is perfect," Lyerin murmured, a wide grin splitting his face. "This dungeon will be their feeding ground. My Cragar'Throm Clan... it's time to feast!"

The creatures at his side—his monstrous army—shifted with restlessness. The ground trembled beneath their weight. Some snorted, their red eyes burning with savage hunger. With a raised hand, Lyerin pointed toward the botanical beasts roaming the peaceful glade. "Go," he shouted, his voice echoing across the cavern, "tear them apart! Consume their essence and grow stronger!"

The creatures obeyed. They surged forward with a deafening roar. "ROOOAAARR!" Their feet pounded against the ground—THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!—as they barreled toward their prey. Lyerin chuckled, watching as the once serene dungeon transformed into a battlefield.

The first of the plant creatures, a towering beast covered in bark-like skin with vine-like arms, reacted to the invasion. It let out a strange whirring hiss, twisting its body to face the oncoming horde. Its large leaf-like limbs began to glow with energy as it prepared to defend itself.

The glow intensified until it shot out a barrage of razor-sharp leaves toward the charging Cragar'Throm Clan.

"SHHHING! SHHHING!"

The leaves sliced through the air, but the beasts barreled forward undeterred.

One or two slowed as the sharp leaves embedded themselves into their thick hides, but even that resistance quickly faded.

Lyerin's laughter rang out across the field. "They won't be able to stop you," he roared, enjoying the thrill of the chaos. "They're nothing but weak plants! Devour them!"

One of the Cragar'Throm Clan—a massive elk-like creature with fiery eyes—plowed headfirst into the bark-skinned beast.

"CRAAACK!"

The impact shattered the beast's torso into splinters, and it crumbled to the ground in a heap.

The Cragar'Throm Clan wasted no time, their jaws snapping as they bit into the remains of the fallen beast, devouring its essence.

"CHOMP! CRUNCH!"

Further down the dungeon, another creature made entirely of swirling petals and thorns attempted to take flight, its wings flapping with a soft whirr. But one of the monstrous goats leaped into the air and caught it by the stem-like body, dragging it down to the ground.

"SNAP!"

The creature screeched as it was torn apart limb by limb.

"SCHLORP!"

"Yes! Keep eating! Keep getting stronger!" Lyerin urged, his voice filled with excitement. He could feel their strength growing as they consumed more and more of the mana-rich plant creatures. "This is only the beginning. With every bite, you come closer to unstoppable power!"

A hulking creature made of writhing roots tried to ensnare one of the Cragar'Throm Clan with its thick, creeping tendrils. "RUSTLE! SNAP!" But as the tendrils wrapped around the creature's legs, it let out a savage bellow and yanked free, its strength tearing the roots apart with ease.

"RRRRIP!"

Lyerin's eyes gleamed with pride as he watched his creations wreak havoc. "This is the strength of the Cragar'Throm Clan!" he shouted. "No one can stand against us—not even these magical abominations. You will grow beyond anything the Borgias could imagine."

The last of the botanical beasts tried to flee, a slender, agile creature made of twisting vines and blooming flowers, with a head that resembled a delicate lotus. It dashed through the trees with a swift whoosh, but one of the rams caught up to it, slamming into its side with a thunderous thud!

The creature let out a mournful cry as it crumbled to the ground, only to be devoured like the rest.

Lyerin stood at the center of it all, arms spread wide as he surveyed the carnage.

The Cragar'Throm Clan had decimated the dungeon's plant life in a matter of minutes. Pieces of broken branches, crushed leaves, and scattered petals lay in piles around the dungeon, the once peaceful landscape now a wasteland.

Lyerin let out a long, satisfied sigh. "Beautiful," he whispered to himself. "Truly beautiful. The Borgias will tremble when they see the power I've unleashed." He turned, glancing toward the mouth of the cave, his eyes narrowing in thought. "But this is just the beginning. I've taken the first step.

Now... it's time to take another."

He approached the entrance of the cave slowly, each step deliberate. He could feel the air shifting around him as if the dungeon itself knew something was about to change. His heart pounded with anticipation, the thrill of what was to come sending a surge of energy through him.

The entrance loomed before him, dark and foreboding. Something was waiting beyond it. Something powerful. Something that would bring him closer to his ultimate goal.

"Come," Lyerin called out into the shadows. His voice echoed, bouncing off the cavern walls. "Come, Borgias family. Come, and witness what you could never hope to control."

He stood still, waiting, his eyes locked on the entrance.

The air around him crackled with energy.

Something was stirring in the depths of the dungeon.

Something dark and ancient.

A portal shimmered in the distance, the faint outline of something—or someone.

Lyerin surveyed the glowing portal with anticipation, but impatience gnawed at him. He had no intention of waiting for whoever—or whatever—was coming through that portal. He knew that the element of surprise was his greatest weapon against the Borgias.

Standing still, waiting for them to arrive, would only waste his advantage. He needed to act, and act quickly.

"Spread out!" he barked to the Cragar'Throm Clan, his voice echoing through the dungeon.

The beasts shifted at his command, their glowing red eyes narrowing as they awaited his orders. "Group yourselves into squads of five! Each race will form its own group—Ibexes with Ibexes, Horses with Horses, Sheep with Sheep, and so on. I want all of you to roam this dungeon, scour it from end to end, and ensure that nothing is left untouched!"

The beasts reacted immediately, dividing themselves by race.

The Ibexes, muscular and agile, grouped together and moved to one corner of the dungeon, their hooves clattering against the stone floor.

The Sheep, bulkier but just as deadly, formed their own squad, their thick bodies shifting with tension as they prepared to search their assigned section.

The Horses, lean and swift, broke off into their own group and quickly trotted deeper into the maze-like corridors of the dungeon.

Lyerin watched with satisfaction as his monstrous minions followed his orders without hesitation. "Stay alert," he commanded. "If you find anything unusual, report back to me immediately. And if you encounter any Borgias scum... deal with them swiftly. But keep one alive.

I want a message sent to them."

The creatures grunted in acknowledgment and scattered, their heavy footsteps reverberating throughout the dungeon as they disappeared into the darkness.

Soon, the only sound left was the quiet rustling of the foliage that still clung to life in the corners of the dungeon.

Lyerin stood alone, his lips curling into a smirk. He could picture it now—the looks of terror on the faces of the Borgias when they realized what awaited them in this dungeon.

They would come expecting to overpower him, but instead, they would be met with carnage and chaos, and by the time they realized what was happening, it would be too late.

He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing he was waiting for them. No, he would hide, bide his time, and watch them stumble into his trap. The surprise would be devastating, just as he had planned.

Without a sound, Lyerin slipped into the shadows of the dungeon, finding a narrow alcove hidden behind a wall of thick vines. From this position, he had a clear view of the entrance, but no one would be able to see him unless they were right in front of him. He crouched low, his breathing controlled, his senses sharp.

The dungeon was silent now, save for the occasional faint rustle of leaves or the distant sound of hooves echoing through the cavern. His beasts were doing their job, and soon the dungeon would be ready for the Borgias' arrival.

His mind wandered as he waited, replaying the possible scenarios in his head. The Borgias would walk into the dungeon, confident and arrogant as always.

They would believe that their sheer numbers and magic would give them an advantage. But Lyerin knew better. He had the Cragar'Throm Clan at his disposal, beasts that grew stronger with every plant-based mana creature they devoured. And once they were unleashed upon the Borgias, the family would be torn to pieces before they even had a chance to comprehend what was happening.

Lyerin grinned wickedly to himself, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Soon," he whispered to the dungeon. "Very soon, you will all pay for what you did to me. Every last one of you."

His heart raced with excitement as he imagined their downfall.

The terror in their eyes, the blood on the dungeon floor, the screams echoing through the cavern.

The Borgias had taken everything from him, but now it was his turn to strike back. And he would savor every moment of their destruction.