They turned to me with eerie synchronization, heads jerking unnaturally in my direction. Their deep, guttural sounds reverberated like a low growl from deep in their throats, but they stayed rooted in place. Their glowing eyes bore into me, unblinking, unnerving.

There was no obvious leader among them. Would the same strategy as before—targeting the strongest—work here? The pack moved as one, making it impossible to pick out a commander. But I didn’t have time to overthink. Instinct screamed at me to act before they did.

I picked the largest of the bunch and dashed toward it, spear in hand, hoping momentum would carry me through.

The Tharrans didn’t wait. Before I could close the distance, they bent down in perfect unison, each grabbing at the dirt and debris littering the ground. In the next instant, their arms whipped forward with alarming speed, and the air filled with projectiles.

The first rock smashed into my shoulder, sending me stumbling. Another cracked against my thigh. The sudden barrage was relentless, precise. My attempts to shield my face were futile; for every rock I avoided, another found its mark.

Pain flared across my body as I dropped to the ground, curling instinctively into a fetal position. My heart pounded wildly, panic threatening to consume me. The largest Tharran broke from the group, lunging toward me. Its clawed hands descended in a frenzy, tearing into my side and leaving jagged gashes that burned like fire.

I was out of options. Survival instincts kicked in, and with a desperate cry, I surged forward, wrapping my arms around its waist in a clumsy tackle.

It grunted in surprise, staggering slightly, but the move cost me. It was impossibly heavy, its body dense and unyielding. My muscles strained to lift it, and for my trouble, I earned a flurry of hammering blows to my back.

Pain exploded with each strike. I was gasping for air, my vision blurring, when a single thought pierced through the haze: Fight back. Now.

My hands morphed into spikes, the transformation as much instinct as conscious decision. I drove the spikes into the Tharran’s side repeatedly, each strike eliciting a wet, guttural noise. It screeched and thrashed, but I didn’t stop until it slumped against me, lifeless.

I shoved the corpse off and staggered to my feet, blood dripping from fresh wounds. The other Tharrans were already closing in, their war cries echoing through the street.

I couldn’t fight them all—not like this. I bolted, the adrenaline overriding the searing pain in my side.

The pack was slower than me, but not by much. Worse, their projectile assault hadn’t let up. Rocks zipped past my head, one grazing my temple hard enough to draw blood. My vision blurred momentarily, but I kept weaving between lampposts and piles of debris, refusing to give them an easy target.

I ducked into a narrow alley, pressing my back against the wall just as a rock shattered against the corner. Dust and shrapnel filled the air. My breaths came in ragged gasps as I assessed my situation.

The alley was a dead end. I cursed under my breath, scanning for anything I could use. A hefty piece of rubble lay at my feet, and I grabbed it without hesitation.

I hurled it toward the Tharrans as they approached. It wasn’t nearly as accurate as their throws, but they flinched, their heads snapping toward the projectile in eerie unison. I seized the distraction and sprinted back into the open street.

As I was fleeing, a single, distorted war cry rang out behind me, louder and deeper than the rest. For a moment, silence fell.

Then, from every direction, hundreds of voices responded in a deafening cacophony. Shadows stirred in the windows above, humanoid figures contorting unnaturally as they joined the chorus.

The air grew thick with projectiles. Rocks, shards of wood, and broken glass rained down in a relentless barrage, the sound of shattering stone and splintering wood echoing through the city, I decided to take a page out of the Spartans book and fight it the shadow.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I ran faster, zigzagging wildly, each step fueled by desperation. Debris exploded around me, sharp shrapnels slicing into my arms and back.

I spotted a grand building up ahead, its crumbling facade suggesting former splendor. I would have probably appreciated it if it wasn’t literally raining rocks .

It was my only hope.

I sprinted toward the structure, shouldering my way through the half-collapsed door. The wood splintered under the impact, and I rolled to the side just as more projectiles slammed into the doorway.

Inside, the noise from outside was muffled, though the occasional thud of rocks against the outer walls kept my nerves on edge. I pressed a hand to my side, wincing at the slick warmth of fresh blood seeping through my clothes.

The room I’d entered was massive, its domed ceiling riddled with holes that let in beams of pale light. Rows of wooden shelves lined the walls, their once-proud structures sagging under the weight of decay. The floor was a mess of broken furniture, crumbled stone, and the remains of books long since reduced to dust.

It was a library. Or at least, it had been.

For a brief moment, I let myself feel the weight of the place. This wasn’t just a building; it was a monument to a civilization that no longer existed. Their history, their knowledge—lost to time, now rotting in silence.

A guttural cry from outside brought me back to reality. I hugged the walls, moving cautiously through the rubble. If the Tharrans found me, this place would become my tomb.

At the back of the library, I found a narrow hallway. The ceiling was uncomfortably low, forcing me to hunch as I moved. Doors lined the hall, most of them broken or missing, revealing empty offices filled with more debris. My gamer instincts screamed at me to search for anything valuable, but time wasn’t on my side.

At the end of the hall, a rusted metal door blocked my path. I shoved against it, but it barely budged. Gritting my teeth, I morphed my spear into a makeshift crowbar and wedged it into the gap. The hinges groaned in protest as I forced the door open, each movement echoing loudly in the silence.

Beyond the door was a narrow alley, flanked by the library on one side and another building on the other. The shadows were deep here, the air oppressive.

It felt like a trap. If the Tharrans found me here, I’d have no escape.

I dragged debris against the door to buy myself a few precious moments and crept forward, keeping close to the walls. Just a few more feet, and I’d be clear.

But then, without warning, something massive blocked my path.

It stepped into the faint light, and my stomach twisted in revulsion.

Something always drops down in the middle of an alley, I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming…

A towering mass of flesh, nearly ten feet tall, loomed before me. Its body was an abomination, a writhing amalgamation of limbs and torsos fused together in a grotesque jumble. Mouths opened and closed at random, emitting an unholy chorus of screams. I could see pieces of Luppit flesh mixed into its grotesque form, limbs jutting out at unnatural angles.

Tharran Amalgamation (Lv. 39)

Tharrans value nothing more than family. Even with corruption, they stick together to share energy.

I started backing away as it advanced, slow but relentless. My mind raced, but the sound of approaching war cries told me I had no choice. I couldn’t go back.

The amalgamation tore chunks of its own flesh and hurled them at me. They slapped against the walls with wet, sickening sounds, leaving slimy trails in their wake.

I spun, bolting toward the library door, but it wouldn’t budge.

Facing the monstrosity ahead or the literal army behind me, the choice was clear, though far from easy.

I began creating spikes in its path, sneaking in occasional stabs. Surprisingly, this strategy seemed effective; the amalgamation's attacks were so telegraphed that I could sidestep them with ease.

But then it halted, drawing its mass inward. Suddenly, numerous flesh tendrils shot out toward me.

The amalgamation’s tendrils lashed out, slamming into the ground around me. I turned, stabbing wouldn’t be that effective against this disgusting ropes,so I morphed my spear into a machete, and charged.

The first strike barely made a dent, the blade sinking into the creature’s flesh with a sickening squelch. I pulled it free and struck again, and again, hacking wildly. Mouths screamed as I cut deeper, the tendrils thrashing in a desperate attempt to push me away.

Then, the creature collapsed in on itself. For a moment, I thought I’d won.

But the flesh reformed, tendrils lashing out and wrapping around my arms and legs. They crawled over me, draining my energy with terrifying speed. My vision blurred, and I felt my strength waning.

Desperation drove me forward. I lunged for the core, hacking at it with every ounce of strength I had left.

The creature let out a final, earsplitting scream before dissolving into a bubbling mass.

I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air. The sweet rush of experience points was a brief solace, but I couldn’t stay here.

The Tharrans would be on me any second.

I forced myself to my feet and ran,

Two more amalgamations blocked my path.

I gripped my weapon tightly, dread coiling in my stomach. But before I could act, the air exploded with a barrage of arrows and fireballs.

The amalgamations were obliterated, their remains splattering against the ground.

“What the hell?” I muttered, heart pounding.

Five figures emerged from the shadows, their golden auras glowing faintly in the dim light. Each one carried a different weapon, their armor mismatched but well-worn.

The archer in the lead nocked another arrow, aiming it directly at my chest.

I froze, caught between relief and dread.

Had I been saved—or was this the beginning of something worse?