As they were all focused on the horde, the nyphorite descended from the ten-tailed entity's back with the unhurried grace of something that had never needed to hurry because the concept of being too late had never applied to it.
It didn't seem bothered by the men fighting against the horde, or it didn't care about them in the first place. As its gaze was focused on the young man who was moving towards the beast.
It dropped perhaps forty feet to the corrupted ground and landed without sound, without an impact crater and without any of the physical punctuation that should have accompanied something of its mass arriving from that height.
It simply was on the ground where it hadn't been, the transition between positions more like a decision than a movement.
