As the final Byakhee collapsed lifeless onto the stone floor, Jack took a deep breath, steadying his pulse. The fight had been brutal, but the immediate threat was over. The Legionnaires, ever silent, did not celebrate or rest. Instead, they regrouped with eerie efficiency, forming into their formation once more. Jack exchanged a glance with Lyla and his other companions, nodding toward the undead soldiers who were already moving toward an arched passageway leading deeper into the labyrinthine structure.
"They’re heading somewhere," Lyla said, her voice tight with both exhaustion and curiosity. "We should follow them."
Jack agreed, gripping his spear tightly. Whatever awaited them, the Legionnaires were their best guide through these chambers. He motioned for the others to stay close, and together they moved in pursuit of the undead procession.
The passage they entered was narrow and lined with ancient carvings—depictions of battles long past, creatures that defied description, and figures clad in dark robes. Faint echoes of groans and the clatter of weapons could be heard ahead, growing louder as they proceeded. The Legionnaires in front of them advanced without hesitation, their skeletal feet making no sound against the cold stone.
As they entered the next chamber, Jack’s eyes widened. The room was much larger than the previous one, dimly lit by strange green orbs suspended from the ceiling. The floor was uneven, pocked with craters and scorch marks, as if this place had already seen countless battles. More Legionnaires—over twice as many as before—were locked in combat with a nightmarish monstrosity in the center of the room.
In the center of the chamber, a grotesque mass writhed and pulsed—an amorphous, heaving thing that could barely be called a creature. The creature defied any sense of form or reason, a writhing mass of dark, gelatinous flesh constantly shifting and changing, with countless eyes and mouths appearing and disappearing across its surface. The Legionnaires hacked and stabbed at it with their rusted weapons, but every wound they inflicted simply closed up as fast as it was made. Tendrils shot out from the creature, grabbing two Legionnaires at once and dragging them into its writhing mass, dissolving their bodies with a sickening hiss.
[Shoggoth
Level: 15
Health: 8,400/8,400
Mana: 1,200/1,200
Stamina: 7,500/7,500
Abilities: Morphic Tendrils, Adaptive Defense
Description:
The Shoggoth is an ever-shifting, incomprehensible horror—a creature of pure chaos that defies the very concept of solid form. Its oily, black mass is in constant flux, expanding and contracting as it moves. Eyes of varying sizes sporadically open across its surface, blinking out of existence as quickly as they appear. Its entire body is a writhing sea of tendrils, some smooth and whip-like, others jagged and serrated, constantly lashing out or reshaping themselves into grotesque weapons. At times, these tendrils harden into shields or armor, blocking incoming attacks, while other times they elongate into blades, maces, or spears, cutting down enemies with brutal efficiency.
Its surface pulses with a sickly sheen, shifting from smooth, wet black to deep purples and greens, constantly emitting a low, unsettling hum. Despite its amorphous structure, it can solidify its mass when needed, creating temporary limbs, claws, or mouths—each filled with teeth that seem to shift positions within its body. Its most terrifying trait is its Corrosive Touch, capable of breaking down anything it grasps, whether it be stone, metal, or flesh.
The Shoggoth is a scavenger of the Ground as The Byakhee are scavengers of the air}
[Congratulations! Identify has gained a level]
The Shoggoth was an abomination, a swirling, gelatinous horror that constantly shifted shape, its body undulating with unnatural fluidity. Its surface was a deep, oily black, mottled with sickly hues of green and violet that shimmered in the light. Eyes blinked open and shut all over its form, randomly appearing and vanishing within the viscous mass. Dozens of undulating tendrils protruded from its body, each one moving independently, like serpents writhing in a chaotic frenzy.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
The Shoggoth's movements were disorienting, its bulk flowing as though gravity held no meaning. Tendrils snapped outwards with terrifying speed, each one stretching far beyond what should have been possible, lashing at the undead legionnaires who were locked in battle with it.
Jack watched in shock as one tendril, thick and covered in pulsating veins, formed a solid, translucent shield in the blink of an eye. It intercepted a barrage of spear thrusts from the legionnaires, the weaponry bouncing harmlessly off the slick, gelatinous barrier. Another tendril morphed into a grotesque blade jagged and dripping with some foul ichor, which it then swung in a wide arc, cleaving through the armor of one of the undead soldiers. The Legionnaire fell, its armor shattered and corroding where the blade had made contact.
Lyla gasped. "It can shift its form into weapons!"
And it did—constantly. Each time the Shoggoth was struck, it adapted. One moment, a tendril would form into a mace, smashing into a group of legionnaires, the impact strong enough to send several flying backward. Another tendril, slithering along the floor, elongated into a spear, piercing through a soldier’s chestplate with ease.
As the reinforcements that Jack and his party had accompanied surrounded it, the Shoggoth’s body split into smaller, tendrilled limbs, which moved like independent creatures. They acted both defensively and offensively—some forming spiked whips, flailing against the soldiers to keep them at bay, while others congealed into coils that wrapped around the arms and legs of its enemies, crushing them under tremendous pressure.
Jack's pulse quickened as the scene unfolded before him. The Shoggoth was not just a monster—it was an adaptive nightmare, countering every strategy the undead legionnaires threw at it. Each new shape it took was more terrifying than the last, and every strike made on its body was seemingly useless as the creature morphed its tendrils into solid shields, absorbing the blows.
"We have to help them," Jack muttered under his breath. He knew the undead had no fear, but their weapons were outdated and barely making a dent in the creature's shifting mass. The legionnaires were methodical but outmatched against this eldritch horror.
Lyla, standing beside him, bit her lip. "But how? Our attacks might be just as useless as theirs."
"We need to create an opening, force it to focus on something other than the legionnaires," Jack said, gripping his spear tightly. "Maybe then they can strike at its weak points."
"Distractions, then?" Lyla asked, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation.
Jack nodded. "Something loud, bright—anything to destabilize its form. We need to break its focus for just a moment."
As if on cue, one of the Shoggoth’s tendrils lashed out towards them, forcing Jack and Lyla to dive out of the way. It hit the stone floor with a wet, sickening slap, dissolving the surface on impact. Jack scrambled to his feet, his spear raised defensively.
"Cover me!" Jack shouted to his team
Lyla began chanting, her voice rising in a low hum, magic coiling around her fingertips as she summoned a stream of yellow fire that arced towards the Shoggoth.
The flame soared through the air, landing on the Shoggoth’s writhing mass. For a brief moment, the fire burned on the creature's oily surface, causing it to recoil. The effect was small, but it was enough to momentarily slow the undulating tendrils.
The moment of reprieve was brief. The Shoggoth hissed—a horrible, gurgling sound—before its body convulsed and shifted. Eyes formed where the flame had landed, and with a surge of motion, the creature lunged forward, splitting its body into even more tendrils, now lashing in all directions.
Cael lunged forward his dagger striking one of the creature's newly-formed eyes, causing it to burst into a spray of black ichor. The Shoggoth let out another pained wail, its body convulsing as the eye dissolved into the mass. Yet, it quickly regenerated, shifting again to close the gap left by the attack.
The Shoggoth, undeterred, launched more tendrils towards them, forcing the group to scatter. Jack dodged to the side, barely avoiding one of the appendages as it slammed into the stone wall with a thunderous crash, sending debris flying. His spear felt woefully inadequate against this monstrosity, but he couldn't give up now.
"The fire slowed it, even if only for a moment!" Jack called out. "We need something bigger. We have to keep the pressure on!"
Another tendril lashed toward him, but this time Jack was ready. With a quick spin, he dodged the strike and slammed his spear into the appendage. Though the spear only grazed the Shoggoth’s flesh, he pressed forward, hoping to force it to shift its mass once again.
Meanwhile, the legionnaires continued their assault, unrelenting in their attacks despite the odds. Rusted swords and spears clashed against the Shoggoth’s ever-changing defenses, but the creature seemed to revel in the chaos. Each time the undead tried to overwhelm it, the Shoggoth morphed into new, unpredictable forms, countering them with savage efficiency.
One of the legionnaires attempted to drive its sword deep into the Shoggoth’s mass, but the creature’s body parted like liquid, allowing the blade to pass through harmlessly. With a quick snap, a tendril wrapped around the soldier and crushed it with ease, the rusted armor crumpling like paper.