When you came face-to-face with a grotesque monster like this, it was hard for any warrior to remain fearless. Kraft was certainly no exception.
It moved in an awkward way somewhere between crawling and squirming. Each tentacle unleashed considerable force, but they were completely uncoordinated, exerting themselves without regard for its overall balance. It was as if it threw itself forward, trading balance for speed ill-suited to its size.
Its teeth and horny hide scraped across the floor, gouging it with an irritating, shrill rasp that rattled like a ratchet against his eardrums. It felt like the whirring blades of a massive meat grinder bearing down on him, carrying an overwhelming sense of oppression.
Affected by the screech, Kraft managed a barely adequate dodge, darting to the side.
It clearly noticed the movement. Its tentacles slapped and tore at the floor, trying to change direction mid-charge. But though its limbs had strength to spare, they lacked coordination. They only managed to turn its speeding torso a little, and it missed Kraft by a hair.
A half-formed tentacle, elongated into a mouthpart, lunged viciously. It slipped past the sword blocking its way and, at the moment of contact, tore away his cuff and a cufflink with it. The creature chewed the cloth to shreds in frustrated fury. The metal button was crushed and warped between its rows of teeth, with crunching sounds that made it impossible to tell whether the teeth or the cufflink were breaking.
If it had gotten any closer, it might have taken a few fingers—or even half his hand.
There was a faint pain along the ulnar side of his wrist, as though warm liquid were seeping out. It didn't interfere with his movement, though. He could only hope it hadn't nicked a superficial blood vessel.
He