Becoming a Monster

Chapter 379: Chapter 379: Defending a Demon

With the transition over, no one still dared to speak. They all stood apart, watching, waiting to see what Isabelle would do next.

No one could deny Isabelle’s change. Whether it was those closest to her, those who rejected the existence of God altogether, or even the fanatics within their faith, it didn’t matter.

What Isabelle had done, the aura she now carried... she was no longer the same. And even if she was, no one truly believed they could treat her the same again.

The priestess’s words still echoed in their minds. Isabelle being an angel’s vessel meant far more than anyone wanted to believe.

The silence was broken when Isabelle finally opened her eyes. For a moment, her eyes were the same as the priestess’s once was. They were completely golden, not an iris in sight.

But then her eyes flickered. She blinked rapidly, as if stirring from a trance. When she looked at them again, her eyes were her usual shade.

If one paid attention, they could see the visible relief when Isabelle’s face softened and began returning to normal. Flashbacks of Ailetta’s transformation haunted them, and for a moment, it felt as if Isabelle would slowly drift away from them too, acting as if they never existed.

The stares continued to weigh on her.

Then her eyes turned, not to the priestess, not to Thalric, but to her friends. For the first time since they’d known her, Isabelle’s face softened into something unfamiliar. A smile. One meant to placate their worries before she turned to Thalric.

"We have not lied. What happened here wasn’t us at all. It was caused by the very demon you speak of."

Thalric’s eyes sharpened. The priestess could feel the tension suddenly grow cold. Her lips parted to intervene, but Isabelle pressured forward without pause.

"That demon was not our enemy. Believe it or not, he was our savior. You look at this room and see remnants of corruption, but you didn’t see what happened here, nor did we. But I can guarantee my life. Without that demon, none of us would be standing before you."

Her voice grew firmer, it was rare for her to feel this way. But as she spoke to Noah’s defense, she truly began to realize all that Noah has done for them. Her mind was taken back to that day when she had lost the will to live. When she was willing to die along with a person who didn’t hesitate to desert her for their own selfish gains. In the end, it was that devil who reached their hands out to her.

"You can call him a demon, but you should call him the reason your so-called prophecy even reached this day."

At this, her gaze wasn’t focused on Thalric at all. She was speaking directly to the priestess. Her intent was clear, even Thalric and the priestess herself could see it. She was trying to obtain her backing through the priestess.

Slowly, her arms rose, lifting the staff higher. Thalric moved reflexively, his fingers curling around the hilts of the twin blades at his hips. His stance didn’t betray rashness, but vigilance. His eyes tracked her every motion, weighing every syllable she spoke.

Truthfully, he wanted to believe her. He wanted humanity to have hope, to find strength against the shadow of the demons. But Thalric’s hope was not blind. If the so-called prophesied one proved to be a threat, he would risk his life for humanity by killing her himself.

Even with his hands on his sword, Isabelle moved unwaveringly. The staff, that was once still, began to let out a small luster that was incomparable to what had been before. And despite the considerable lack of divine power that it once showed, when she released her ability, an ability that her friends were not a stranger of. Even they were surprised.

A soft warmth spread from the golden sphere, spilling outward until the entire chamber was bathed in divine light. The air felt clearer, every shadow banished, every stain erased. It was a power her companions recognized, Purifying Aura, but this was no longer the same ability.

Her aura had transcended.

The blood on the tile, the lingering aura that Thalric swore lingered of a demon, all of it was swallowed.

Any hostility, any doubt, any negative emotion was overwhelmed by serenity and an unfamiliar hope. Their bodies felt lighter, stronger, as if they could take on the pressure of mountains. Even Thalric, hardened by years of war, felt his frame loosen. For a fleeting moment, he swore his body had aged backwards. There was vitality flowing through him, a strength he hadn’t felt since his youth.

Her soldiers couldn’t contain themselves, awed murmurs broke out behind her, some gasping openly, others clutching their staves or blades as though the divine had touched them directly. Every one of them felt their connection to their faith grow sharper, more profound. Their abilities, tethered to the divine, thrummed with power as if a gate to heaven had opened above them.

Even the platinum knight at her side bowed their head. The polished armor trembled faintly, the divine light catching on its edges as though the figure inside was struggling to contain the power flowing through her.

With her display finished, Isabelle’s voice softly followed.

"If you still doubt me... then you also doubt the one who chose me."

The silence was once again immediate.

And then the priestess rose from her knees.

"I have never doubted," she declared with conviction. Her eyes passionately locked on Isabelle. "Not my lord, nor His vision. To doubt you would be to doubt Him. And such a sin, I would never commit. Nor should any who claim to walk in the light."

Her hand pressed over her chest.

"You are the vessel chosen by the Beloved. The Angel descended through you to guide us in their stead. All here are witnesses to the truth. And any who still claim otherwise would be thus declaring themselves enemies to our faith and the holy covenant."

Her guards echoed her stance, pounding gauntlets to their chests in affirmation.

Thalric’s eyes narrowed, but he did not interrupt. The guildmaster’s silence was its own acknowledgment.

He could only sigh in acceptance.

"I’m too old for this..." Thalric muttered, shaking his head.

"Serephina... Like always, I’ll support you." His gaze redirected from them to the strangers, resting intently on Mark’s figure.

"But I’ll support you in my own way."

"GuildMaster, tread softly in which you speak. The grand priestess may allow it, but there’s only so much disrespect I will allow."

For the first time, the platinum knight spoke. Their voice revealed to be that of a woman. Her tone lacked any malice, but it was cold.

Thalric wasn’t offended, though he couldn’t prevent himself from shaking his head an additional time.

"Don’t worry, I know my role here. My goal is also the same as yours. But I still am my own Man." Thalric returned to facing Mark.

"Young man, you’re strong. I can see your potential. But you are still too weak to bear the title as the hero for our people. And I plan to fix that."

This time it was Mark’s turn to be caught off guard. Thalric’s shift was too sudden, too abrupt to read clearly, but his words struck deep. Mark’s hands tightened around the hilt of his blade, his eyes igniting with passion.

Strength. That was what he valued now. Not because he thought power was everything, but because he knew, truly knew, that power was the only path to saving everyone. Without it, faith was empty. Without it, hope was brittle. So his gaze sharpened, hungry, burning with the will to grasp that path.

His focus blinded him to his sister, who was no longer affected by the divine’s soothing energy. Her gaze rested on her brother. She chided herself inwardly. She felt that she should be proud of him. He overcame his selfish, prideful behavior and became a selfless man.

But as she looked at him, she wished, selfishly and desperately, that he would revert back to that young, foolish version of him. At least back then he smiled, he laughed, and he would confide in her.

Instead, what she saw now was a man trying to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, blind to how it was already breaking him.

He had traded dreams of his own for everyone else’s survival. And Jasmine feared that by the time he realized it, there would be nothing left of him to save.

Thalric’s words had barely settled when the knight’s voice responded.

"And what makes you suitable to train the hero... GuildMaster?"

The knight stepped forward, just enough to step ahead of the priestess.

"The hero has the aura of one chosen by God. How could someone like you who questions that faith bear the duty to shape and protect the one who bears the Lord’s power. Unless..."

The knight’s hand rested on the hilt of her blade, her gesture left no room for misinterpretation.

"... you wish to prove which of us is more worthy."