Becoming a Monster

Chapter 375: Chapter 375: Initiation of the New World

The troll wasn’t able to realize the dragon’s irregularities. By the time the roots erupted from the ground and it stopped, its entire body was already pierced. Dozens of sharpened points dug into its hide.

Shrieks of anger and protest rang loudly, and yet the retaliation that should have occurred...never came.

With its massive size, the troll should’ve been able to wrestle its arm free, or a leg, or simply throw its weight in the opposite direction to free itself.

But it didn’t, it couldn’t.

Its arms were spread out, so were its legs. Its head was held facing up. Each root wasn’t released randomly; each impaled a specific area. One noticeably larger root drove through its wrist, another through its elbow, another locked the shoulder.

Its feet were latched to the ground, blood pooling from under its soles was a clear indicator that something had protruded it. The back of its knees, alongside its upper thigh was punctured as well.

Try as it might, the troll was unable to look down to understand the situation it was in. A root, much larger than all the others, was exposed through its open mouth after puncturing the bottom of its jaw.

And while each root locked onto specific joints, a series of smaller roots were embedding into almost every surface area of its body.

The way the roots locked each joint and pierced each limb, bound it in place like a beast on display. It resembled a crucifixion, one that wasn’t intended.

Every attempt to move only drove the roots deeper. Its breaths were shallow, gurgling on its own blood. The creature had an immense healing factor, but that now became its undoing as its flesh healed around the punctured roots, fusing it with its own flesh.

In time, the blood no longer flowed through its mouth, but the exposed root was still there. Its life was no longer in danger.

The relief was abruptly ended when the troll’s veins bulged, its neck jerked as it began to wildly attempt to thrash. Its whole frame convulsing in violent spasms as if it were fighting some unseen predator inside itself.

One root out of all of the others began to be coated in slime. A root that was centered in the troll’s chest.

Noah had options. He had so many ways to cull its life. He could drain its essence outright, siphon its vitality until only a husk remained. He could flood its throat with slime, choke it from the inside. He could even sever its head and end it cleanly.

But uncertainty checked his hand.

Was life essence tied to the mana core? Would draining too much degrade the quality of its core, making it unstable, or worse, useless?

And with the creature’s regeneration, just how long would it take for the creature to eventually die?

Inside the troll’s chest, no one could see how the slime coated around the root began to extend, pushing through its muscles with an increasing force as if the troll’s organs and muscles were fighting for their life.

The troll’s death was already preordained. Despite Noah’s actions, his attention was more directed on Eve’s situation.

He could take care of their opponent just as easily. But he still needed his creatures to grow, and for them to have the motivation to seek growth and continue to grow stronger outside his aid.

For now, he gave them the tools to succeed on their own. To let them experience their potential if they continued to grow.

Two roots emerged around them, once again bathing them in a myriad of colors. Their powerful boost returned to them in a matter of seconds. But it still wasn’t enough.

For the first time, slime extended from their home. Two tentacles that were glowing with intense energy converged on their bodies. Diablo didn’t resist. Ava tried, but the slime enveloped her anyway, swallowing her from the neck down.

In an instant, both of their frames were overlaid. The slime sculpted to their forms, overlapping their gear until their bodies were clad in a second skin.

Almost complete darkness, its seams pulsed with streaks of violet and deathly green light, the same essence that coursed through Noah himself as he was fused with Pandora.

It would ensure that while they fought their opponent to the death, their life would barely be at risk.

But Noah wasn’t done. He didn’t believe that it would be enough to give them the motivation. They would win, but when comparing themselves to the others, he knew Eve would definitely compare herself to the others.

Around the same time their bodies were given their armor, a root positioned itself by Diablo’s sword. The blade was still festering with black flames, but suddenly the flames flared, trembling as mana surged into it.

Using mana sphere, Noah continued to build up the compressed ball of mana that continued to be absorbed into the sword. The sword nearly grew an entire foot before Noah cut the flow short, pulling back his influence.

Any further and the balance would tip. There wouldn’t be a point to letting them fight if victory was entirely forged by his hand. Beyond that, any more would deplete his reserves a lot more than what he would afford, especially in this world.

The two creatures were finally ready. Their gaze set on their target who was unsure where to move. The troll was helpless, with only the fear of death driving it forward to do something.

A wall of roots prevented it from interfering with its prey’s preparations, roots that it came to fear even more than the drake after witnessing its members end.

Its head turned away, looking for an escape. Because for the first time, it was able to view the battlefield in its entirety.

And what it saw drained the strength from its limbs.

Everyone was...dead.

The charred husk of its kin still smoldered under the werewolf’s fire. Another was nothing but a mangled carcass scattered across the grass. One of the strongest among them had been forced into something unrecognizable. And the rest, torn, crushed, butchered...

The troll’s first thought was to flee, but when it began to turn, roots emerged from behind it, cutting off any escape.

It wasn’t brave enough to move, and it noticed that as long as it stood still, the roots did the same.

Confusion and helplessness gripped it, and when the roots in front of it finally buried back under the ground, it understood. What the "forest" was doing was the same scenario the trolls would play with their young warriors. It was to become the whetstone for these two creatures.

The feeling was as disgusting as it was demoralizing, and yet the troll made the decision to go along. It was going to die, it knew with full certainty that its life was forfeited. But it promised not to give the forest the satisfaction of its death, it would destroy the creatures that it sought to train.

The troll didn’t bother to gauge their strength. It recklessly charged forward. If it was going to kill them, then it couldn’t give the roots the chance to intervene again.

Ava responded instantly, her movement wasn’t hindered at all despite the addition of her armor. Her nimble body maneuvered behind the troll that grasped with both hands to catch her, intending to crush her frail looking body within its palms, ripping her limbs apart.

When their movements crossed, the troll’s body instinctively was going to turn to face her, but the ominous feeling radiating from Diablo’s sword took precedence.

The troll reacted like a warrior, moving forward without giving an inch. A familiar scene replayed itself, the troll waited for the skeleton to get close before it smashed its hand down.

This was the same as before. The instant its palm struck downward, Diablo didn’t retreat. His flame-swollen blade ascended, meeting the troll’s hand at the cost of its own body.

But the troll’s palm stopped short. The corrosive flames immediately ate into its skin, spreading across its arm. Its regeneration flared to resist, and yet for every inch of skin restored, more was constantly corroded again.

It pulled its arm back in agony, but that hesitation was all Ava needed. Without the focus on her, she traveled up to the troll’s face. Her nails slash across its eyes before she darted away again.

The troll stumbled even further, losing its balance before it fell to the ground.

It was now in a vulnerable position, yet its one eye picked up on the devilish sword coming its way. Its only healthy arm went to reach out to thwart the attack.

And yet, before its arm could even straighten out, its arm flinched, hesitation gnawed at it. Phantom pain flared through its arm as the pain in its other burning arm reminded it of what would happen.

As Diablo’s sword descended again, the troll bellowed. The sound of its roar lacked any ferocity, it was a cry of a beast that was begging for mercy, a term that Diablo couldn’t understand.

The exchange left the troll’s remaining arm lighting up in the corroding flames.

____________

The troll’s ending was anticlimactic. The fight it put up was less than half of what Noah assumed it would be, but he had yet to fully understand the mechanism of Diablo’s miasmic energy.

But the fight was finally over.

And while Noah was hazed by monsters, Mark and the others were able to meet the humans of this world.