Becoming a Monster

Chapter 480: Chapter 479: Holy Arrival

The impact came before the old man could fully recover his stance.

Fenrir’s flaming fist crashed into his blade, and the force behind the strike drove through his guard despite the water imbued within it, forcing his arms downward as the ground beneath his feet split from the pressure.

Unlike his werewolf form, Fenrir’s power was weaker, but it was also much more controlled, and that precision made the attack even more dangerous as the force carried through the point of contact instead of dispersing.

The old man’s footing broke for the first time as he was forced backward. He tightened his grip and twisted his body to redirect the force, letting the attack slide past him just enough to avoid taking it head-on, but even that slight deflection sent a jolt through his arms that almost forced him to drop his sword.

This was not the same creature he had been fighting moments ago.

Fenrir didn’t pause after the first strike, and the moment the old man created space, he stepped forward to close it again. Each exchange became harder to manage.

At first, the older man was able to meet Fenrir’s strikes and guide them away, but with every clash, the weight behind the attacks increased, forcing more strain into his arms and slowing his responses by the smallest margin.

He adjusted his footing and continued to parry. There were times when there was an opening to counterattack, but the threat of Fenrir’s fist getting through prevailed over taking the risk.

However, Fenrir’s efforts began to show because the impacts no longer stopped at the blade and instead carried through into his body, and by the time several exchanges had passed, his arms had already started to go numb, leaving him barely able to maintain his grip.

He had to change tactics.

Lightning replaced the water along his blade as he attempted to shift the flow of the fight, but when Fenrir’s flame-covered fist collided with it, the current failed to travel past the point of contact, dispersing uselessly against the gauntlet instead of penetrating through it.

His mind churned to find a way out of the predicament. He wasn’t idle as he parried; he maneuvered in the open space to make up the strength difference with his speed. But Fenrir was more agile than before. He was faster, but his ability to turn to keep up with him was eerie.

Yet while he was rethinking his plan, his thoughts were stalled when a strange sensation hit him.

A cold, dark pressure settled over his senses, and he initially mistook it for the threat of death drawing closer. The thought that he might perish here made him look away when he knew he shouldn’t.

Roy was the first person he thought about.

The young man, the student, who was basically raised since he was a child. The young man had once stood on the verge of victory against his foe.

Even now, his opponent was basically broken. One leg was nearly severed, and its gut had a deep cauterized wound, yet instead of pressing forward, he was retreating, staggering from the presence of a creature standing in front of the defeated beast.

The old man wasn’t able to get a proper look to understand when the next strike came before he could recover.

Fenrir’s fist drove forward, striking him squarely in the chest.

The impact broke through what little defense he had left. Blood exploded from his mouth as the force lifted him from his footing, sending him spiraling backward.

The older man’s body had barely begun to fall when Fenrir stepped forward, already prepared to finish the fight before the man could recover.

Before he moved, his gaze shifted briefly to the side, following the direction the older man had looked moments earlier as he assessed the state of his own subordinate.

He had spent time refining his subordinates and had even declared that they would surpass Arachne’s, yet the reality before him showed one reduced to a state he could only consider inadequate.

There was no loathing, no anger, and if there was any disappointment, it was towards himself. Both he and his pack had shown a disgraceful act in front of Noah.

Under normal circumstances, he would have stepped in to reinforce him. He couldn’t allow one of his own to die when he was present. But then he saw that Diablo had already moved into position, placing himself between Baka and Roy.

Again, that feeling of Fenrir inadequacy slipped in when someone like Eve’s subordinate had to step in to save his own. But he had to accept it.

He would just vent it out on the one responsible.

Fenrir turned his attention back to his opponent. His intent was to finish it quickly and decisively so he could wash away his shame.

But before he could take another step, his gaze snapped.

From the old man’s direction, no... it was behind him. The cleric who had been rooted in place since the start of the battle had begun to unleash a presence that was too strong to ignore.

Before any of Noah’s other creatures could close the distance, that presence settled over the battlefield in a way that forced even the ongoing clashes to falter.

Noah’s gaze narrowed onto the source.

At first glance, it appeared to be the cleric, but that impression didn’t last because the energy gathering around him wasn’t on him specifically, but around the space next to him.

His eye could see the distortion appearing before light gathered in the very spot he was looking. It condensed into a single point, making the distortion more visible.

The moment it stabilized, Noah understood exactly what was happening. Something was being summoned. He just didn’t know what it was.

That distortion began to spread, and within, a blind light lit up the forest. A light that bathed all those around it. For those like the priest, they felt the holy energy within them growing restless, as though it was being pulled towards the source of the light. For the others, their heavy minds lightened, and their souls felt more at peace despite everything that transitioned.

And then there were Noah’s creatures. Both Arachne and Kratos instinctively back away. The light behind that portal felt as if it would erase them entirely. The others who were attempting to aid them felt the oppression even before they drew too close.

The figure soon fully emerged, clad in pristine white and gold armor. The blade in its hand shined with a steady, unwavering light.

The surrounding space stabilized as the distortion closed. The sensations inflicted on everyone disappeared along with it.

The moment the entity appeared, the old man was immediately relieved.

Through his grievous chest injury, the daunting pressure that had been looming over him had eased considerably when he laid eyes on the entity that appeared.

He wasn’t naive enough to believe the danger had passed, but he knew now that they had something capable of standing against the monsters.

That alone was enough to steady him. Yet beneath that relief, a more complex thought lingered.

The summoned entity was undoubtedly powerful, perhaps even stronger than any of them present, and while that gave them a chance to survive, it also came with a cost he could not ignore, because he knew that something like this would not come without a burden placed upon the one who had called it forth.

He could only hope that their cleric would be able to endure it.

—

"Did you kno- wait, you didn’t ’see’ it."

On the other end of the battlefield, Ailetta spoke as her gaze remained fixed on the newly arrived entity, because even from this distance, she could tell that it was far from ordinary. But as she focused the majority of her eyes on the new arrival, she was also looking towards Noah.

After knowing that Noah could perceive the enemy’s abilities, she had assumed that he would have already accounted for something like this, that even though he may not have known the entity would be so powerful, he at least was aware the cleric was capable of summoning such a being.

But the look on his face told her otherwise.

Noah was not prepared for this.

His attention remained fixed on the entity, his mind already working through what he had just witnessed, because there had been nothing to indicate that the cleric possessed the ability to call something like this into existence.

That absence of information unsettled him more than the presence itself. It meant that there were powers in the world that could avoid the power of his eye completely. And it also meant that the danger threat of his first assessment of them was incomplete.

His thoughts shifted immediately, because if the cleric could do this, then there was no reason to assume the priest was incapable of something similar, although he could not yet determine the full extent of the entity’s strength, the opposing nature of its energy alone was enough to tell him that its true power would only fully reveal itself when facing creatures like his own.

Creatures created from the essence opposite of itself.

That alone made it dangerous. Not because it was overwhelmingly stronger than him, but because the power it carried directly threatened their existence.

For the first time since the battle had begun, Noah made a decision without hesitation. This was not an opponent he would allow his creatures to test themselves against.

He didn’t get the chance to respond when a figure shot into the air.

Annoyance crossed his expression as his wings tore free from his back, and he immediately took off in pursuit, because this was the problem with allowing Eve to merge with Ava, and although he did not fully understand the reason behind it, the creature had a tendency to act without restraint whenever it came to beings from that place.