Becoming a Monster

Chapter 602: Chapter 601: Fulling His Own Promise

Noah wished he could see Otuk’s expression if he knew he was being used as Fenrir’s whetstone.

His regeneration allowed each adaptation to settle almost as quickly as the damage was inflicted, creating a cycle where every strengthened state became his new natural condition before Otuk forced the skill to activate again.

The original owner of the skill would likely need countless battles to accumulate changes of this magnitude.

And because the skill was being triggered so many times, Noah couldn’t look away.

He was studying how Fenrir’s body and mana reacted each time the skill activated. He followed the movement of mana through every damaged area, observed which parts of Fenrir’s body responded first, and watched how the ability determined what needed to be reinforced.

If Noah could understand that process clearly enough, then he might be able to reproduce the skill through his own body.

And with the progress he made watching this one battle, he felt that he could achieve it. However, he wouldn’t know if he was on the right path unless he faced an enemy that made him put his life on the line.

This upcoming battle would be exactly what he needed to test it out.

—

Meanwhile, Fenrir’s Wrathful Fury was beginning to recede.

The ability didn’t possess a fixed duration. This time, it continued for as long as Fenrir’s body recognized Otuk as a threat requiring every ounce of strength he could muster.

By now, that was no longer the case.

Otuk was still dangerous, but the gulf between them had narrowed so greatly that Fenrir’s instincts no longer believed surrendering his consciousness was necessary.

The rage clouding his mind gradually faded. With it, the overwhelming pressure surrounding his body weakened considerably.

Fenrir’s physical strength, speed, and aggression all declined as Wrathful Fury released its hold over him.

It was impossible for Otuk not to notice.

To the troll, there could only be one explanation for why Fenrir’s aura dropped by nearly an entire level.

The beast had finally exhausted himself.

After everything Otuk had endured, this was the only opportunity that he had to win before his own body’s regeneration gave out.

Yet before he could act, Fenrir’s posture began to change. The wolf menacingly rose onto his hind legs until he stood nearly equal to Otuk in height.

A faint sense of unease entered the troll’s eyes.

Fenrir’s posture carried none of the awkwardness Otuk expected from a beast abandoning its natural stance. He balanced upon two legs as easily as he had moved upon four.

Then Fenrir began walking forward.

There was no hesitation in his approach. No trace of uncontrolled fury. That composure caused the unease within Otuk to deepen, but he quickly forced it aside.

Instead, he focused on Fenrir’s weakened aura. That was the only thing that mattered right now.

More importantly, the wolf’s upright stance gave Otuk a much cleaner angle toward his neck.

“Just die already!”

Otuk roared as he swung his sword the moment Fenrir got into range. The anger in his voice had long since crossed into desperation.

Even as a troll who was known for their vitality, he felt as though he had already killed Fenrir more than ten times over.

The beast regeneration wasn’t fair. To grow stronger from taking a beating wasn’t fair.

None of this was fair!

By now, even Otuk understood that Fenrir’s body was becoming stronger each time it survived another devastating wound.

He wished he hadn’t been so blinded by his ego at the beginning. If not, he would’ve made sure to end the beast as fast as possible by any means.

That was why this strike had to end everything.

With Fenrir’s aura weakened, Otuk believed this would be their final exchange.

His sword swept toward the wolf’s neck with every bit of momentum he had left. Otuk was certain it would connect.

Throughout the entire battle, Fenrir had barely attempted to avoid his attacks. He had accepted nearly every wound without hesitation, allowing Otuk to strike him again and again.

But that was where the troll miscalculated.

Fenrir’s refusal to avoid his attacks had never meant that he was incapable of defending himself.

With his consciousness restored, the beast raised one arm across his neck and braced for the strike.

Otuk’s sword crashed against Fenrir’s forearm, releasing a harsh screech as the warped blade fought through his armored hide. Even then, it barely managed to breach the surface.

Fenrir’s legs nearly buckled beneath the force. However, his feet dug firmly into the ground, allowing him to stabilize himself before Otuk could take advantage of the opening.

His gaze briefly lowered toward the sword.

The blade had become too dull and warped from the constant heat to cut through more than the outer layers of his exoskeleton. Even if it was fully repaired, he doubted it could even draw blood.

When Fenrir looked back toward him, Otuk could’ve sworn that he saw contempt within the beast’s eyes.

The entire realization passed through his mind in a single instant.

By the time Otuk understood the position he had placed himself in, a massive fist covered in flames had already filled his vision.

Fenrir’s knuckles crashed directly into his face.

Otuk’s head snapped backward from the pulverizing force of an attack he had been completely unprepared to receive.

The blow forced him to take a step back.

His mind spun as his brain rattled within his skull, yet the troll still managed to remain standing. The earth beneath him absorbed most of the impact, though several cracks immediately spread from where his feet were planted.

Even while dazed, Otuk’s body moved instinctively to recover.

He could already sense another attack coming. Fenrir’s next fist drove toward his stomach.

It was an attack Otuk could’ve blocked. His arm immediately moved to release the sword while his other hand was used to try to rebalance himself.

However, his eyes widened in realization when his body was pulled towards the sword instead.

He had forgotten the softened handle had fully fused with his flesh.

Fenrir, on the other hand, didn’t care about the troll’s situation as his fist buried itself into his abdomen without resistance.

The armor over his stomach caved inward, and cracks finally made their way along the troll’s stone hide as the force passed through the rest of his body.

Otuk folded slightly over the blow while the ground beneath him broke even further.

And as soon as that hit landed, Fenrir no longer allowed him to recover.

Another fist crashed against the side of his ribs. Then another struck his chest.

Each blow forced Otuk farther backward while his feet desperately tried to remain planted. The ground continued absorbing the punishment, but that doesn’t mean it could absorb all of it.

The recoil of Otuk’s body showed that the damage was accumulating. And the times when both of the troll’s feet were firmly planted, the damage was even more obvious.

Fenrir’s fists continued moving without pause. His left hand shattered an entire section of Otuk’s side, armor and all. Darkened flesh was completely exposed, but it was too charred even to reveal the pink underneath.

His right drove into the troll’s chest hard enough to affect Otuk’s lungs.

Otuk attempted to swing the sword with his fused hand, but Fenrir remained too close for him to gather any meaningful force. The blade scraped uselessly across the wolf’s side.

And any attempt to defend himself with his other hand was meaningless before Fenrir’s flames.

The sound of each strike was the only sound anyone could register as Fenrir continued battering him.

Otuk’s ability desperately transferred the force into the earth, but even the ground could only endure so much.

Large sections of soil rose unevenly as the ground began collapsing beneath the accumulated pressure.

The beast planted one foot forward and twisted his entire body into the next attack.

His fist struck Otuk directly in the face again. That last blow was all that was needed to make the ground give way.

For the first time since the battle began, there was nothing left to absorb the full force of Fenrir’s attacks.

The impact nearly crushed the Otuks’ entire face as his body was ripped from the ruined ground, crashing onto his back.

The troll remained completely motionless. One would easily assume it was dead.

That didn’t stop Fenrir from walking directly over the body. He didn’t forget what he had promised himself.

Otuk’s eyelids barely managed to open when he suddenly registered pain, perhaps even more painful than being burned alive.

Fenrir’s jaws had already closed around the side of his face.

A muffled roar tore from the troll’s throat as the beast began wrenching its head from side to side, dragging its fangs across the same stone texture that had protected Otuk throughout the battle.

Otuk’s hands rose instinctively.

One shoved against Fenrir’s chest while the other attempted to raise the sword, yet the position of his body left no room to swing it properly. The blade dragged uselessly across the ground.

But neither attempt was enough to remove the massive beast pinning him to the ground.

The pressure around his face continued to increase. Cracks spread across the stone covering his cheeks as Fenrir adjusted his bite and pulled again.

If Otuk’s face had been made from ordinary flesh, the first attempt would have torn most of it away. Instead, the armor gave him just enough time to remain conscious through what came next.

The sounds of Otuk’s strained roars were heavily distorted by Fenrir’s jaws, becoming little more than a pained vibration as the troll continued struggling.

And yet, the more Otuk struggled, the more the beast lowered more of his weight onto the troll’s body.

Only when the cracks became so loud that they drowned out the troll’s cries did Otuk’s movements weaken.

Perhaps it would have been better if the final punch had killed him.

After this fight, Fenrir should be physically stronger than everyone now, besides Bolas and Noah.