Becoming a Monster

Chapter 394: Chapter 394: Brooding Drake

Noah wasn’t alone when it came to conflicting thoughts.

Deep within the cave, the drake’s eyes flickered.

The commotion earlier had carried deep within its depths. The human voices and their screams. It didn’t need to see what happened to understand. They’d done something stupid, like every other human before them. But this time, they’d poked the demon.

"Demon..."

The drake scoffed at the term. Its nostrils released enough soot to cover half of its face. How many times had it addressed Noah as such? The demon never once denied it.

That part almost made the drake laugh. Not because it believed Noah was one, but because it hated that the fake demon let itself think it.

The drake didn’t care about lies. Lies were part of survival. Lies were often used when dealing with those you didn’t respect, who don’t deserve your respect. And therein lies its problem. The fake demon doesn’t respect it, when their power should have been nearly equal.

No... The drake believed that it was still superior. One against one, the drake was sure that it would come out on top.

Despite this, the drake could overlook Noah’s disrespect. It was still the loser of their battle. But what it couldn’t overlook is the fact that it was made a fool of.

It still remembered when Noah encountered that being. The drake didn’t know of Anubis, but it knew the smell of divinity, and Anubis was practically bathed in that scent. So much transpired in that short interaction, and all of it was deeply ingrained in the drake’s eyes.

Anubis’s subtle respect towards Noah, as if Noah’s title was somehow higher than its own. It remembered the very fact that Noah had sensed Anubis within the feeble woman even before it revealed itself.

...and then the most important factor was when Noah devoured the goblin’s soul.

The drake had seen many things in its lifetime, creatures that could steal life, siphon energy, or even consume mana itself. But what it saw that day wasn’t any of those.

It knew of liches. Ancient wretches who clung to existence through ritual and curse, masters of manipulating the dead and enslaving souls. Yet even they required time, preparation, catalysts, blood, bones, or relics to serve as conduits. Their methods were crude, forceful, and far from natural.

What Noah did was different.

No ritual. No invocation. No focus or sacrifice. And that was what made it terrifying, even for the drake. It was only a drake; its physical and magical capabilities were better than most creatures alive. But only by ascending its race, strengthening its soul and body with its ancestral lineage, did it feel that it could contend with a power that can manipulate souls.

And that truth only made the drake’s nostrils flare in frustration.

Its heated breaths suddenly stopped when the pain in its chest flared. Instinctively, it looked down to its wound.

Its body was still mending. Its wound no longer resembled acidic flesh, but now it was nothing but decayed meat. The wound would take much longer to heal than the drake initially believed. Its aura trembled each time it tried to suppress the corruption, black fumes coiling from its scales.

Miasma.

That was the only word that fit. A vile stench that belonged to no living creature. Not even demons bore this kind of corruption.

Only those who truly belonged to hell.

The drake’s claws flexed against the stone. Its tail twitched as thoughts began to spiral again.

Then, suddenly, it froze.

A faint scent flowed into its cave. A fragrance it could never forget.

Its head snapped up, slit pupils glowing as the smell grew stronger, overwhelming the environmental odor of dirt and soot.

The drake’s entire body went rigid before it took in a deep breath as if it were the last breath it would ever take.

"That smell again..." it growled, eyes narrowing toward the source.

It turned, staring through the stone as if it could see through it. But what it saw instead was nothing. Just the confined walls that it put itself within, that was preventing it from having what its body craved more than anything.

But the aroma didn’t consume its thoughts. At least, after the third wave of the smell, the drake returned to reality.

"The fake lied to me again."

Its expression hardened, yet its nose continued to breathe in the aroma.

The smell excited its blood, but despite the effects, the calling wasn’t the same as it was the previous day.

The drake knew that Noah withheld the information of the true source of the smell. It couldn’t deny that it had done the same when answering Noah’s question.

Yet, this was different! "I really wanted to know!" it growled again, this time quieter, almost sulking.

If it were fully healed, it wouldn’t be surprising if Noah had suddenly seen a pair of large eyes peeking outside his door any second.

But for now, the drake could only bask in the scent that filled its den. Its mouth gaped slightly as it savored the illusion of its taste.

____________

Meanwhile, Noah had just finished prepping the cores from earlier. Out of all his creatures, Diablo, Ava, Pandora, Dummy, and the newest companion were left without one. With only six available, Noah divided them among those who were connected to him.

However, giving the others nothing didn’t sit right. He was already preparing to give Pandora the direct source of his blood, the same way he always did; leaving the last core for himself. But the others deserved something too. They weren’t connected to him, but they were connected to his family.

Doing this much for them felt natural, expected even. These creatures would be his family’s backbone. If he could aid in their strength, then that would only increase the odds of his family’s safety.

He thought about calling them to him one by one and giving them each a drop of blood personally. But he didn’t like that either. The image of them approaching one after another, a line that, in the future, would only grow larger. He would have to come up with other ways.

The thought spurred him to try something new.

Instead of revealing his skin beneath the slime, Noah punctured it from within. The sensation was sharp but fleeting. He could feel his blood flowing beneath the membrane, warmth spreading in controlled pulses. Normally, that blood would’ve been reabsorbed instantly, as part of the endless cycle of his body’s regeneration.

But this time, he didn’t let it return. Instead, he channeled it, building up mana through the flowing blood.

Five tendrils split from his arm, moving quickly, as they were seeking their intended recipients.

At their tips, the blood gathered. It started as a single bead. Like before, the bead grew larger, its luster deepened, and the smell grew more potent.

Noah blinked. For a moment, he was actually surprised it worked. Then he sighed under his breath. Once again, he was being negligent of his potential.

His slime was an extension of himself, his will, his essence. He shouldn’t have been surprised at all that his slime could perform the same feats as his physical body.

As the task neared completion, Noah felt more lethargic than he should’ve. His control over his blood and mana wasn’t the same as he remembered. The process of infusing his blood went without issues. However, when the droplet began to form, he encountered a problem.

The droplet began to destabilize, not because of the blood, but because the mana infused in it and around it was becoming harder to maintain. He was forced to compensate, pumping more blood than needed to balance the mana output and the stamina to continue the concentrated strain.

Just before the blood could fall, a deep growl threatened two individuals. The growl was low. To everyone else, it was a power without any weight. But his two pack members, who were about to try to devour both the blood and Noah’s tentacle, froze immediately under its weight.

Dummy, however... The hungry beast quivered where he stood, the scent of Noah’s blood sending him into a frenzy he couldn’t suppress. The others desired it because their bodies instinctively craved it, because they sought to evolve. Yet Dummy only cared about how it would taste. His desire to taste it was even stronger than the others’ desire to transcend their limits.

Fenrir released another growl, one more ferocious than before. His body was already preparing to move, to meet his orders with physical force, something he actually enjoyed.

"Enough."

And just like that, with one word from Noah, the den fell silent, save for the faint licking sound of Eve enjoying her orb.

Noah didn’t have to say anything else. His warning wasn’t meant for Fenrir; Dummy was hit the hardest. It was foolish; hunger controlled his instincts. But he would never forget the torment he was put under when Noah "saved" him.

_______

Tired, Noah didn’t desire to do anything else. Even as he analyzed the last core he had for himself in his hand, he was too lazy to want to eat it like the others. Instead, he absorbed into himself, falling asleep before he could fully analyze the effects.

But moments before he slept, he felt as though he was forgetting something. Oblivious to the evil stare from the little vampire, he also failed to notice the giant monster looking down at the others from the open ceiling with an envious eye.