My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill Chapter 479

The tentacles were wrong. Not just physically wrong, but taphysically wrong. They existed in too many dinsions simultaneously, creating visual distortions that hurt to look at. Where they moved, they left trails of reality-warping corruption that made space itself bleed.

And they were fast.

The tentacles shot downward like striking serpents, targeting the fleeing human soldiers first—the surviving thousand who’d been retreating toward their camp, who were now directly beneath the red moon’s manifestation.

One human soldier, running desperately toward what he thought was safety, never saw the tentacle descending. The massive appendage wrapped around his body and yanked him into the sky, his screams cutting off as he was pulled upward toward the red moon.

Another soldier tried to fight, blessed sword slashing at the tentacle that reached for him. His blade cut into the impossible flesh and the tentacle simply... regenerated, the wound sealing instantly as if it had never existed. Then it grabbed him and lifted him skyward.

All across the southeastern battlefield, tentacles were snatching up human survivors. Fifty soldiers disappeared in the first five seconds. A hundred in the first ten seconds.

The human forces that had survived Satou’s rampage, that had escaped the settlent defenders’ pursuit, were being systematically harvested by sothing that operated on principles beyond normal combat.

But the tentacles weren’t just taking humans.

Several appendages shifted direction, sweeping toward the settlent defenders who were racing back toward the Third Line, moving too slowly to escape the red moon’s reach.

A squad of goblins, sprinting desperately toward safety, found their path blocked by a descending tentacle. They tried to dodge, tried to fight—

The tentacle swept across them and three goblins were caught, their small forms disappearing into the massive appendage’s grip as it retracted skyward.

"NO!" Kelvin’s anguished shout carried across the ntal network as he watched his people being taken.

Two serpentfolk warriors, using their natural speed to race ahead of the retreat, were snatched from the ground by tentacles that struck with impossible precision.

An orc who’d been wounded in earlier fighting, moving slower than his comrades, was caught mid-stride and lifted into the sky despite his desperate struggles.

The settlent forces were being harvested.

Satou didn’t think. Didn’t calculate. Just reacted with speed born of supernatural enhancent and desperate need to protect his people.

[SHADOW ABSOLUTE MOVENT TI DILATION]

He teleported across the battlefield in a series of instantaneous jumps, his enhanced temporal perception making him faster than the tentacles’ already supernatural speed.

He appeared beside the goblin squad just as the tentacle was lifting them skyward.

[VOID FANG]

Existence-erasing energy coated his claws and he swept them through the tentacle’s flesh.

Where Void Fang touched, the impossible at simply ceased to exist—not cut, not severed, but unmade at a fundantal level.

The tentacle section holding the goblins dissolved into nothingness, dropping the three defenders safely (relatively) back to the ground.

"RUN!" Satou roared at them, then teleported again.

He appeared above the serpentfolk being lifted, his claws carving through another tentacle, freeing them from the appendage’s grip.

Teleported again to the orc, cutting through yet another tentacle, catching the massive warrior’s falling form and throwing him toward safety with enhanced strength.

Satou moved like red-wreathed lightning across the battlefield, his teleportation and ti-acceleration making him appear in dozens of places simultaneously, his Void Fang claws cutting through tentacle after tentacle, freeing captured defenders before they could be pulled into whatever horror waited above.

He saved fifty of his people in the first thirty seconds.

A hundred in the first minute.

But there were too many tentacles. Too many targets. Even with his supernatural speed, he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

Twenty settlent defenders were pulled into the sky despite his intervention—grabbed by tentacles he couldn’t reach in ti, yanked upward screaming as they disappeared into the red moon above.

And approximately four hundred human soldiers—the survivors from Elric’s army who’d been in the southeast sector—were harvested completely.

Then, as suddenly as they’d appeared, the tentacles stopped.

They retracted upward, pulling back toward the red moon with captured victims still writhing in their grip, disappearing into the crimson light above.

The battlefield fell into eerie silence, broken only by the labored breathing of survivors and the crackling of fires still burning across devastated ground.

Satou stood in the center of the carnage, his Void Fang claws still active, looking upward at the red moon that pulsed with malevolent intelligence.

What is that thing? What did Elric—

His thought was interrupted by a sound that made his combat instincts scream fresh warnings.

Laughter.

Deep, resonant, carrying harmonics that suggested the speaker existed in multiple dinsions simultaneously. The laughter seed to co from everywhere and nowhere, echoing across the battlefield with intensity that made the ground tremble.

Then the red moon began descending.

No—not just descending. Transforming.

The massive crimson sphere elongated, distorted, reshaped itself as it dropped toward the earth. What had appeared to be a celestial body was revealing its true nature.

It was alive.

A creature so massive it had appeared as a second moon when viewed from below. A being that existed partially outside normal reality, manifesting in dinsions human perception couldn’t fully process.

The form that descended had:

Wings - Not the leathery bat wings of demons, but sothing worse. Vast mbranes of stretched flesh that seed to be made from condensed nightmares, covered in eyes that blinked independently, each one tracking different targets below. The wings spanned easily three hundred feet from tip to tip.

Head - A lion’s skull, but wrong. Too large, easily forty feet long. The jaw was lined with teeth like swords, each one glowing with the sa red light as the false moon had been. The mane wasn’t hair but writhing tentacles, dozens of smaller appendages that moved with serpentine intelligence.

Body - Humanoid in basic shape but covered entirely in tentacles, hundreds of them, thousands of them, each one capable of independent action. The tentacles writhed constantly, so holding captured victims, others reaching out blindly, others coiled around the creature’s own form like living armor.