Becoming a Monster

Chapter 533 - 532: The Hidden Pillar

Alexandria sat with her head tilted upward again.

This time, however, the composure she tried to maintain felt far thinner than before. What little resolve she possessed was held together only by the knowledge that others were depending on her.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the tendril hovering in front of her. Noah hadn’t released the blood yet, but the anticipation alone made each passing second feel agonizingly slow.

She tried not to think too much, but that was impossible.

Her mind kept circling back to Dog and his confidence. To her own followers watching from behind.

Alexandria swallowed quietly. She wondered if she would even be able to tell the difference when Noah’s blood appeared.

Dog had described it before, but descriptions only went so far. Blood was blood. Even if Noah had changed, surely it couldn’t be so different that she would know before it even touched her.

Then she discovered the truth far quicker than she expected. Before she could even see it, the smell reached her first.

No, it overwhelmed her.

Alexandria’s entire body locked in place.

Her surroundings vanished. The only thing that remained in her world was the tip of Noah’s tendril.

Her pupils expanded until they nearly swallowed her eyes completely. Her breathing grew deeper, each breath dragging more of that scent into her body despite every rational part of her screaming that she needed to stop.

The scent settled deep within her instincts, awakening a hunger so overwhelming that her thoughts grew harder and harder to hold on to.

The noble-like essence she normally carried disappeared as if she had always been an uncivilized beast.

Dog stiffened nearby at almost the same time.

His body reacted sharply, but not as violently as hers. His shoulders tensed, and saliva gathered at the edge of his mouth before he forced his jaw shut. Anyone could see he was struggling, but his mind had not been dragged as close to the edge.

It probably helped that this wasn’t the first time he had experienced it.

Noah’s main creatures were handling it better than both of them, though even they weren’t unaffected.

Fenrir’s expression hardened as his jaw clenched. Kratos’ fingers flexed slowly, the air around his claws faintly distorting as if his new mana reacted instinctively to the temptation.

Eve didn’t try to hide her expression. She didn’t feel that it was wrong to desire Noah’s blood. But maybe because she didn’t try to hold in that desire, she didn’t become lost in it.

Arachne’s many eyes narrowed, she bit her lips in temptation and impatience, knowing that Noah would allow them to have their share in time.

Ailetta was the calmest in appearance.

She linked herself to Noah to guarantee that there wouldn’t be any mishaps that would interfere with the role she was given.

Her body subtly shifted as she prepared for the inevitable. She had no expectation that the cats and dogs would remain calm.

She was ready to separate and create another copy of herself at any given notice to ensure that nothing went wrong.

It’s not that she considered the creatures weak-minded, but after experiencing Noah’s blood herself, she had formed a theory.

Those who struggled the most against its allure were not necessarily the weakest.

They were the ones who had yet to evolve. The ones who had not yet mutated. The ones whose bodies were still far behind in reaching their potential.

And not just their bodies’ potential, but also their blood’s potential. Both were hand in hand.

When they first met Bolas, he had already reached his body’s potential. And if he were the same drake before his change, perhaps he would be the first creature to lose his sanity to Noah’s blood.

Because, despite meeting his body’s potential, he was nowhere near meeting his bloodline potential.

Strength also played a role, but it wasn’t the true cause of the reaction, at least Ailetta didn’t believe so.

If strength were all that mattered, Ailetta herself should not have felt the temptation as deeply as she had.

Noah’s blood whispered to every imperfect creature that there was a better version of themselves waiting just beyond reach.

It screamed to their instincts the same way water would to a person dying of thirst. Even without drinking it, they instinctively felt that if they didn’t obtain it, then they would perish.

And the cats and dogs were still painfully imperfect.

Because of that, Ailetta believed they wouldn’t last even a minute beneath its presence.

She was almost right.

Across from her, red eyes began appearing one after another.

The dogs stiffened first, their bodies lowering as rough growls built in their throats. Several of the more immature ones took a half step forward before stopping themselves with visible effort.

The feline’s pupils widened until their gazes became glassy and fixated. Their claws slid from their paws and scraped softly against the ground.

Nearly every creature among them became delirious from the scent.

It was worse than Arachne’s spiders.

Ailetta didn’t look phased at all by the number of creatures she would have to stop.

Even if there were five times more of them, she could stop them all. Was it arrogance? Sure, but it was also because the creatures were significantly weaker than nearly every creature she had encountered since she came to this world.

Still, she didn’t want it to come to that.

Her body was prepared to split further. Then all of her caution suddenly became unnecessary.

The cats and dogs had begun to move forward, their sanity thinning under the weight of desire before they lashed out.

Then they all stopped.

Their bodies froze mid-motion as if something was interfering with their mind.

Their bloodshot eyes didn’t vanish at once. It flickered behind their eyelids, losing their delirium with each blink.

The growls weakened, but their labored breathing remained, as their stiffened postures slowly relaxed.

Noah’s gaze shifted immediately. He focused on the only cat that didn’t move.

Dobby sat among them with his eyes tightly closed.

His brows were furrowed so deeply that wrinkles stretched from his forehead to the top of his head. His small body trembled with strain, and sweat slowly slid down the side of his face.

He looked frail, as if he would break down at any given moment. But the influence spreading from him was anything but weak.

He wasn’t forcing obedience onto them or suppressing their instincts through sheer will.

Dobby was taking on those chaotic emotions.

The frenzy rising within them, the maddening hunger clawing at their instincts, the violent thoughts threatening to consume their reason.

He pulled those emotions away before they could fully take root in their hearts.

And he carried it all onto himself.

Noah had already known what Dobby was capable of, yet this was the first time he had done it on such a scale.

How often had the old cat known exactly what to say when someone began doubting themselves?

How many arguments among the felines and canines eased before it became physical?

And how many times had a frightened beast suddenly calmed down after sitting near him for only a few moments?

Dobby’s support had always been there, unnoticed.

He had been carrying the worst of the others’ emotions before it could crush them, all without any of them realizing it: their fears, resentment, insecurities, and their quiet moments of despair.

That was why he always seemed to understand everyone.

He had been standing beneath the weight of their emotions this entire time.

His tail unconsciously lashed once against the ground.

Each strike was harder than the last. His breathing became uneven, but he had yet to open his eyes.

Dobby continued reaching through the group, pulling the chaotic emotions and maddening instincts out of them.

One by one, the beasts gradually calmed as the overwhelming desires in their minds weakened.

Their bodies weakened afterward, as if the struggle had drained them from the inside. Some sank onto their hind legs. Others lowered themselves fully onto the ground, trembling in exhaustion.

Then their gazes slowly shifted toward Dobby. Realization spread through them all at once.

Several of the more perceptive ones began to recognize what had happened. That strange peace that had come to them before in moments when they thought they would break.

That inexplicable calm that washed over them after their burdens or fear had grown too heavy to bear.

It had always been him, and they never realized it.

"Dobby?" one of the felines called softly.

Dobby didn’t respond. He remained completely still.

Then his body suddenly dropped.

"Dobby!"

The cats rushed to him despite their own condition.

To them, Dobby was not merely another follower. He had become something close to a second leader, the one who knew how to steady them when Alexandria’s strength alone wasn’t enough.

When they reached him, they found him kneeling with his eyes still tightly closed. At first glance, it almost looked like meditation.

But nothing about him was peaceful.

His eyelids twitched violently as if he were wincing through pain no one else could see. His tail struck the ground again and again until the fur along it began turning red.

His ears flattened completely before springing upright, then flattened again as though he were reacting to sounds only he could hear.

None of them knew what he was experiencing.

Then blood suddenly began dripping from beneath Dobby’s tightly shut eyes.