Becoming a Monster

Chapter 699: Chapter 698: For Their Own Good

The power coursing through Noah’s body was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

He knew that combining with one of his creatures could make him even stronger than he was now. But something about Devil Descent made the power he felt entirely different.

Noah felt as though he had no weaknesses. His thoughts were no longer burdened by conflicting desires, and no matter what decisions he made or what consequences followed, he couldn’t imagine ever feeling regret or inner turmoil.

His soul, mind, and emotions were in perfect sync, leaving him with a sense of perfection he had never known before.

Yet, strangely enough, Noah felt no pride in it.

There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that nothing within himself needed to change, but it wasn’t accompanied by the excitement he might’ve once expected. He accepted his current state as natural, as though there had never been any reason to feel otherwise.

And perhaps that was what made this transformation so dangerous.

Noah had always despised weakness. That hatred had influenced countless decisions throughout his new existence, particularly when it came to the creatures he was responsible for.

Weakness gave others the opportunity to control you, to take from you. For Noah, what he wanted to avoid most was losing the family he made for himself. And only when his creatures grew stronger did the possibility of someone taking them away from him shrink.

But Devil Descent had taken that belief to an extreme.

Weakness was a sin.

A grave sin that needed correcting the moment it was discovered, regardless of who “suffered” from it.

And if Noah had the means to correct it, he saw no reason to allow that person or creature to remain as they were.

Before undergoing Devil Descent, however, Noah had feared what such a belief might lead him to do.

He had always been concerned about what his aura might do to his creatures. Its influence made no distinction between allies and enemies, and even those who had willingly chosen to follow him could find themselves changing in ways they never would’ve wanted.

But the possibility of harming them had only been part of what frightened him.

What Noah had truly feared was how differently he would view those consequences once the transformation was complete.

He had always wanted his creatures to become stronger, and although he was willing to go to great lengths to accomplish that, he still cared about what they wanted for themselves. Their feelings mattered to him, and there were certain changes he would never force on them, no matter how much stronger those changes could make them.

That was why he had been so reluctant to use Devil Descent. Unless the situation left him with no other choice, or he could be reasonably certain that his creatures wouldn’t be affected, he would’ve preferred to avoid the transformation entirely.

But those concerns belonged to Noah before he underwent Devil’s Descent.

Now, the very reasons that had made him afraid of using this power seemed like weaknesses in his own thinking.

If one of his creatures had a weakness that he could correct, why should their objections matter?

And more importantly, why should he be concerned about the consequences when those affected by his aura had already accepted them?

After all, his aura couldn’t force someone to transform merely because they had an insecurity. That weakness had to trouble them enough that they were willing to surrender themselves to its influence, accepting the changes it offered in exchange for the strength they desired.

And if they were willing to go that far, then didn’t that mean whatever troubled them was something they desperately wanted to overcome?

As far as Noah was concerned, their willingness to accept his power was all the justification he needed.

It wasn’t as though his aura was offering them some empty promise of strength, either. Those who gave in would genuinely gain something that addressed whatever insecurity or inadequacy had made them vulnerable in the first place.

If their insecurity was the possibility of losing a loved one to sickness, his power would transform them in a way that granted them an ability to save them.

Or, like the goblins, they feared death, particularly from the curse draining their life force. In the end, despite their transformation being hindered, the life force escaping them barely influenced them anymore.

Their bodies transformed in a way that made them strong enough, increasing their vitality to “fix” their weakness.

But like any power, it came at a price.

And with that power coming indirectly from Noah himself, the consequences went far beyond whatever physical changes they might undergo.

Their personalities would change as well.

Whatever feelings had made them vulnerable enough to accept that change would be twisted into something resembling the complete opposite of that weakness, often to such an extreme that the creatures themselves might become almost unrecognizable.

Someone who had spent their life consumed by fear of dying in battle might develop such an overwhelming desire to confront danger that they would no longer recognize when they should retreat. Someone who had always felt inferior to others might become so consumed by pride that they couldn’t tolerate the thought of anyone standing above them.

And those weren’t necessarily the worst changes they could experience.

Some might be so severe that they became chimeric abominations, so consumed by their newfound desires that they would lose all sense of restraint.

But as far as Noah was concerned, they had already accepted whatever consequences came with overcoming their shortcomings.

And regardless of how drastically they changed, the very thing that had made them vulnerable to his aura would no longer trouble them.

Of course, that didn’t mean their transformations would be without flaws. The courage gained from overcoming their fears could make them reckless, and their newfound pride could leave them unable to recognize their own limitations.

But Noah saw no reason to worry.

If those changes created new weaknesses, then wouldn’t that just give them another reason to evolve?

And if the next evolution brought about further problems, those could be corrected as well.

As long as his creatures continued evolving, they would eventually reach a point where there was nothing left for them to improve.

They would become perfect.

And if reaching that point required them to undergo countless transformations, Noah saw no reason to prevent it.

Wasn’t that what he had always wanted?

The thought came so naturally that he found no reason to question it.

Before Devil Descent, Noah would’ve been horrified by what his creatures might become after undergoing such transformations. Even if they emerged stronger, he would’ve struggled to accept seeing them become almost unrecognizable, knowing that the very qualities that made them who they were might be lost forever.

But the Noah who now hovered above the forest felt none of those concerns.

To him, his previous reluctance had been the result of allowing unnecessary emotions to interfere with his judgment. He had placed his creatures’ feelings above what was necessary for their growth, even when doing so meant leaving them vulnerable to dangers that could’ve been avoided.

How could he have ever considered that acceptable?

What mattered was ensuring that those important to him would never have to suffer because of their own shortcomings again.

And if accomplishing that required making decisions that he would’ve once considered cruel, then there was no reason to hesitate.

Their weaknesses needed to be corrected.

Whatever it took.

—

That same being was now looking at the seraphim with the eyes of someone who was judging the other.

The Seraphim was his enemy; it was also a resource that he would eventually consume, perfecting himself even more.

And yet, as Noah stared the creature down, it was impossible not to notice how the being that was supposedly devoid of emotions, of doubt, of weakness, was now struggling with Noah’s own aura.

The eye above Noah’s head suddenly glowed as it locked onto the Seraphim.

Nothing in that moment occurred, but for reasons unknown to the celestial, understanding reached Noah’s cold eyes.

“A weapon without purpose? If a weapon is defective, then the fault lies with the creator, not the weapon.”

The words came out, but they didn’t register as words at all. The storm was louder than any noise Noah made, yet the Seraphim heard those words clearly.

For a moment, the Seraphim remained motionless.

Noah hadn’t been speaking directly to it, yet those few words had struck far closer to home than the celestial being could’ve imagined.

A weapon without purpose?

Was that how the Devil viewed it?

The thought immediately sent the Seraphim into a panic. It had already been struggling with its own doubts, and hearing Noah speak those words made it feel as though the Devil had somehow seen through everything it was trying to suppress.

No.

He was wrong.

The Seraphim refused to accept that its existence could be so easily dismissed, especially by the very enemy it had been created to destroy.

It would prove him wrong.

Holy energy erupted around the celestial being as it tightened its grip around its blade. In its desperation to prove that it was still capable of fulfilling God’s will, the Seraphim abandoned the caution it had shown throughout their confrontation.

It no longer cared about the danger of approaching Noah directly.

Before the holy energy gathering around its weapon had even reached its peak, the Seraphim charged toward the Devil, raising its blade as it closed the distance between them.