Becoming a Monster

Chapter 518: Chapter 517: Sage Fruit

A sage fruit.

The words alone carried a weight that few outside her people could ever understand.

Among the elves, it was not simply a treasure, but the very foundation of their strength, the reason their nation could stand as equals with the rest of the world without question.

They were nearly impossible to obtain. No one could request one, and effort alone was never enough. Only those who had proven their worth over the years, those who had risen through expectation and responsibility, were ever considered.

Even then, it was never guaranteed. The requirements were strict, and the cost was always high.

Those who were granted a sage fruit did not remain the same. They surpassed their limits and became something entirely different from the rest of their kind. From that moment on, they were no longer treated as ordinary elves.

They became figures that stood above them, guardians who upheld their nation, beings whose existence carried a purpose greater than themselves.

But that purpose came at a cost, because those who received a sage fruit were never allowed to leave. Their lives were no longer their own because of what they had become to the kingdom.

Gwen couldn’t look away from the fruit as the connection to the fruit tied in perfectly with the fruit in her mind. It’s not that she didn’t believe that a dryad could create one.

It was the fact that a dryad as young as this one was capable of doing so.

The sage fruits that empowered their guardians were said to come from an ancient dryad, a being whose existence stood far beyond the rest of its kind.

Other dryads within their forest were also capable of bearing fruit, but the difference between them and the ancient one was undeniable.

A dryad’s strength did not lie in combat. Their life force was vast, but their mana essence was not enough to have an effect on anyone who could reach the minimum strength of an A-Rank adventure.

Only after many years, once their essence had matured, would their fruit become something worth the risk.

Because consuming a dryad’s fruit was never without consequence.

It did not simply grant power. It created a dependence.

Those who ate from a dryad were bound to it, required to consume another fruit each year for the rest of their lives. If they failed to do so, their strength would begin to fade, their bodies weakening until there was nothing left to sustain them.

And if the dryad they were bound to was destroyed, or became incapable of producing another fruit, then there was no remedy.

Another fruit could not replace it.

Only one from a stronger dryad could sustain them, and such a risk was not something anyone would take lightly.

There were not many dryads capable of reaching that level.

That was why the ancient dryad stood alone.

It was the only one known to produce the fruit that the elves had come to call sage.

The reason Gwen recognized the fruit in front of her was not because of its appearance, but because of what it gave off. The energy radiating from it, along with its aroma, left no room for doubt. The more enticing the scent, the stronger the fruit, and the one before her had already stirred something deep within her without her even realizing it.

For the scent alone to leave her salivating was enough to tell her that this fruit stood above any she had ever encountered, save for the one spoken of in her homeland.

Lost in that sensation, she didn’t know how long she had been standing there, nor did she notice how close it was to completion.

A sudden prod snapped her out of it.

A root struck lightly against her leg, just enough to force her attention back to the present.

Her eyes shifted, first to the fruit, then to Noah, uncertainty settling in as she waited for some form of direction.

"She wants you to do it." He didn’t elaborate.

Gwen looked back at the tree, already knowing who he meant.

Her throat tightened as she swallowed, trying to push down the tension that had built within her.

If this moment had come under different circumstances, it would have been something she would have taken pride in, something she would have seen as the culmination of everything she had worked toward.

But that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t forget what had led to this.

The deaths of the other adventurers and her comrades. The loss of her freedom and the potential loss of what she is.

And the fact that this fruit, no matter what it resembled, had come into existence through something she still didn’t fully understand.

All of this was caused by the one standing behind her.

’No... this was our own doing.’ She corrected herself. "We chose the mission... to come here, to make demands from a creature that was superior to us. And then proceeded to disrespect that being despite not having the strength to support it.

Her gaze returned to the fruit.

Even now, it didn’t look the way she expected it to.

The scent was alluring, enough to draw her in without resistance, but its appearance told a different story. The surface was uneven, the color too deep, and the texture...

It didn’t look like fruit.

It looked like flesh.

A grimace crossed her face before she could stop it.

If not for the fact that she had to wipe the saliva from her lips, it would have been easy to believe she wouldn’t bring herself to eat it at all.

Her hand hesitated as she reached toward it, her fingers stopping just short of making contact as her thoughts wavered for a brief moment longer.

But that hesitation didn’t last.

Slowly, she closed the distance, her fingers pressing into its surface as she pulled it free from the branch, the faint resistance giving way with ease.

The warmth of it lingered against her palm.

For a moment, she simply held it there, staring at it as if waiting for something to change, but nothing did.

So she raised it to her lips.

—

Outside, Varkesh was finding it nearly impossible to control himself.

He didn’t fully understand why Gwen had been taken inside. From what little he had gathered, it had something to do with a dryad that needed help, but they had been in there long enough for doubt to settle in and grow into something far worse.

Then he felt the explosion of mana coming from within, followed by another moment of silence.

"What are they doing! How long will they keep her there? Let me see her!"

The force behind his voice came from panic more than anger, because there was no way that kind of mana had anything to do with Gwen.

He turned on Kratos without thinking, only to be met with a glare that stopped him in place as the creature flexed its fist.

"I jus- I just want to know what’s going on..."

The momentum behind his outburst collapsed almost immediately. His shoulders slumped as his gaze returned to the entrance.

He wasn’t stupid enough to push it further.

Kratos didn’t care. That much was obvious. There was no sympathy in him, no hesitation, and the brief motion of his hand had already made it clear what would happen if Varkesh stepped out of line.

He could only wait now... Every second filled him with unease.

But it didn’t take long before another surge of mana broke through; this time, the mana was familiar.

"Gwennn!" Varkesh shouted again; this time, his voice contained every bit of raw emotion inside of him.

He moved before he could think, his body throwing itself forward with a speed he didn’t know he had.

At least, that was what it felt like.

The moment his legs tensed, Kratos’s tail struck him across the face. The force behind it sent him into the air before he even took a step.

By the time he hit the ground, his body was already failing him.

Kratos hadn’t held back.

Varkesh tried to push himself up, his arms trembling beneath him, but his first attempt failed as his strength gave out.

He tried again. This time, he barely made it halfway before something drove into him.

A foot buried itself deep into his gut, flipping him over as the last bit of air in his lungs was forced out of him.

The impact folded him in on himself.

A harsh cough tore through his throat as bile and whatever little remained in his stomach forced its way out, his body reacting on instinct as he rolled onto his stomach in a desperate attempt to relieve the pain.

He didn’t get a chance to move again before a shadow fell over him.

Another foot came down, slamming into his chest and pinning him to the ground as Kratos stood above him.

The pressure made it hard to breathe.

Varkesh’s vision blurred, but even through that, he could see the creature looking down at him.

There was no malice in its gaze.

Even as Kratos opened his mouth and began to gather energy, preparing to release an attack that would end him without question, there was nothing in his expression that suggested that the attack was personal.

He was simply carrying out his duty.

Noah had given him an order.

And that was all that mattered.