[What seems to give the creature pause is this: not the actual damage that the wooden sword does to it (very little), but the fact that there's resistance at all, not from frenzied terror but from a more assured sort of determination. Whatever this thing is, it seems to take advantage of the fear of its victims, using their own panic against them until it can suppress and overcome.
The wooden sword cleaves through the mass of shadow, and indeed, once severed the massive claws dissipate, leaving a shadowed stump pulsing with swarming darkness at the disconnected end. The tiny, bright eyes lock hard onto Netzach, looking not just at him but almost through him, full of silent malice and imminent doom.
This time, it isn't a claw that forms. It's a jagged mouth, too wide and split to reveal rows upon rows of far too many teeth, gaping open from a place in the shadowed mass that a mouth doesn't belong.
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The wooden sword cleaves through the mass of shadow, and indeed, once severed the massive claws dissipate, leaving a shadowed stump pulsing with swarming darkness at the disconnected end. The tiny, bright eyes lock hard onto Netzach, looking not just at him but almost through him, full of silent malice and imminent doom.
This time, it isn't a claw that forms. It's a jagged mouth, too wide and split to reveal rows upon rows of far too many teeth, gaping open from a place in the shadowed mass that a mouth doesn't belong.
This time, it howls as it lunges.]