Becoming a Monster

Chapter 479: Chapter 478: Deflated Ego Equals Inflated Rage

Fenrir’s gaze shifted as he looked back toward Noah.

At first, when he had seen the sphere of water approaching him, he had not considered it a serious threat, because even if the attack had injured him, he could already feel his body recovering, and another blow would not have changed much.

If fire and lightning could only do so much to him, then taking an attack created from water should be weaker than them all. Mentally, it scoffed, believing that its enemy assumed that it would harm him more than the other two attacks just because he could breathe fire.

That belief changed the moment he saw Noah.

After the attack had been intercepted, Fenrir met his master’s gaze and immediately noticed that Noah was not looking at him. He was expecting his master to be disappointed that he had to come to his aid, especially because Noah rarely intervened on their behalf.

But that was not what he saw.

Noah did not look at him at all, and his attention remained fixed entirely on the enemy that put him in this position.

Fenrir held that gaze for only a moment longer before understanding began to settle in, because there was no frustration, no urgency, and no concern in Noah’s expression.

Instead, he had acknowledged his opponent.

That realization did not sit well with him because what surfaced was not anger at himself nor excitement at the presence of a strong opponent, but a cold irritation that continued to build the longer he considered it.

He had been made a fool, and in front of Noah of all people.

If it had been Arachne, he could have accepted it begrudgingly, but an enemy? Especially one that he believed he could beat? That was unacceptable.

His focus hardened as his gaze returned to the man in front of him, and the frustration that had been building within him narrowed into a single intent to erase that acknowledgment entirely.

He would crush the enemy so completely that there would be nothing left worth noticing, even if it meant using a form he despised.

Fenrir’s eyes elongated as something within him shifted, and instead of growing larger, his body began to shrink as the power within him compressed inward.

The rest of his fur began to fall down in bundles, while the thick mana that was still left began to reshape itself, reaching past his shoulders as it settled into long strands of wild hair. As the transformation continued, his posture rose, and his body began to transition into his human form.

By the time the changes settled, the electricity that raged through him was already gone.

But Fenrir wasn’t finished. In his human form, he had much greater control over his transformation. The moment his stance stabilized, his arm swelled as muscle expanded beneath the surface while patches of fur spread across it once more. His hand grew to nearly twice its size, the fingers lengthening as they twisted into claws.

The transformation might have appeared complete, but Fenrir pushed it further.

The hardened exoskeleton that was no longer there began to surface along his arm, condensing into a denser layer as it extended across his shoulder, stopping just short of his collarbone while faint lines of the same molten veins appeared beneath its surface.

The old man could only watch as it happened, his gaze flickering briefly toward the figure standing behind Fenrir as he questioned whether Noah would intervene again if he made a move, while at the same time remaining on edge because he could not fully grasp what Fenrir was trying to accomplish.

His attention shifted to the side for only a moment as he caught sight of Roy, who had just engaged a werebeast similar to the one he was facing. Their clash is already growing more intense with each exchange.

He had worried that the beast would be just as strong. But that wasn’t the case at all. From the brief instance he witnessed, Roy was holding his own.

The beast swung with its fist instead of open claws. The destruction of the land was brutal. But it was also slow. Roy’s flaming sword was cutting directly through its flesh, exposing moments of bone where the scorched flesh and blood once were.

Unlike the other creatures under Noah, Baka didn’t receive his buffs because he wasn’t connected in any way through Noah’s soul. And although he could still be considered a low B-rank creature, being capable of matching Roy in terms of physical strength. Roy was fighting under the effects of two powerful buffs.

The difference became even more apparent under the influence of the holy field, which, for the first time, clearly showed its effects. The creature’s regeneration had slowed noticeably and reduced to something closer to that of a normal beast, while the unique trait granted to it was no longer able to manifest at its full capacity.

That stone that once could cover a large proportion of his body, bestowing him with explosive force, had now receded to the point of only being used to cover his fist. The disruption of its mana made it difficult for him to maintain that ability as consistently as before. It only left multiple openings that Roy was quick to exploit.

Roy finally showed why he was considered an A-rank as he weaved through the attacks. His expression didn’t waver for a second, even though the creature’s huge fist could block his vision, each one threatening to crush him with just a nick.

He countered with his flaming blade. The flames made his blades’ edges incredibly sharp, allowing him to cleanly cut through its flesh, and left behind scorched wounds that briefly exposed bone where his blood and flesh were incinerated completely.

As his attacks stacked, and the creature failed to land a blow, his arrogant pride started to reveal itself again.

Seeing that exchange, the older man allowed a small portion of his focus to settle, because if Roy could hold his ground, then he could afford to commit himself fully to his opponent.

He turned back toward Fenrir.

At least he was about to, but before he could properly react to the change in the beast’s appearance, a shout, too despairing to ignore, had stolen his attention.

”Gwen!!”

Instantly, he glanced back to catch the sight of the mage abandoning his position as he flew toward the opposite direction of their battle, chasing after a massive creature whose presence was impossible to miss as it moved away.

The older man’s expression darkened as the meaning behind the shout became clear. The elf was gone, and when he connected the dots, his grip tightened around his weapon as the situation brought a series of questions he could not ignore.

Something of that size shouldn’t have been able to slip behind them unnoticed, not to mention being able to seize one of them in the middle of battle, where everyone’s vigilance was at its highest.

If it had managed to do so, then what was the likelihood of there being more monsters hidden around them, waiting to ambush them? Was the act of the monsters approaching them truly an act to have them surrounded?

If that was the case, their situation was more dire than he initially believed.

At the same time, Ethanel’s actions made even less sense because abandoning his position now only placed the rest of them at greater risk, especially when they were already being pressed on all sides.

That thought had only just formed when a sharp sense of danger pressed against him, and his body reacted on instinct as he turned back toward Fenrir, already aware that the brief lapse in attention had been a mistake.

The older man had barely begun to turn back when a sudden sense of danger pressed in on him, and his body reacted before his thoughts could catch up as his sword moved first while his free hand drew up a thin, tightly condensed layer of mana around him, a defensive reflex honed through years of fighting on the battlefield.

He didn’t have time to imbue his weapon with any elements; however, his blade was still bathed with the mana he instinctively poured into it.

Clang!

Sparks erupted when it clashed against something hard. His shock showed for a moment when he saw what stopped his blade.

Fenrir had raised his forearm, allowing the layered exoskeleton to catch the blade as he blocked the strike directly. The man’s eyes widened in surprise before that reaction deepened into shock when he saw the human-like face staring back at him from the other side of the clash.

It was a known fact that werewolves existed, but it was equally understood that werewolves were monsters through and through. The exception was that if a human was turned, because only a human could catch their infections.

That truth had been the very reason beastkin had been ostracized, especially by humans, for so long.

Fenrir did not care for that history, and he cared even less for the man’s reaction.

While the older man was still processing what he was seeing, Fenrir’s other hand was already in motion as it came forward.

His clenched fist burned with a concentration of flames that wrapped around it in the shape of a massive gauntlet.