Becoming a Monster-Chapter 332: The Savior They Keep Demanding

Mark took down his opponent with ease, and with the enhancement of his aura and the additional relief from Ishii, they made the seemingly infallible werewolf now seem like a mere baby version compared to its earlier self.

Ishii’s ability was just too strong; it was a reason that Mark always considered him his equal. After stealing a portion of the werewolf’s strength and constitution, Ishii showcased his lethality as a duelist.

Paul didn’t have to lift a finger; he believed Ishii would eventually kill the beast all on his own. But Paul couldn’t allow himself to stand by. His body surged with renewed energy.

Ishii shot in to stab at the beast’s heart, remembering how Noah had to remove the core of the first abomination to put it down. His attack propelled forward. With the added strength he received from the werewolf, his blade plunged into the beast’s body. And when the werewolf attempted to retaliate, reaching for Ishii who was now in arms reach, a heavy hammer came crashing down upon the beast’s skull.

The werewolf’s skull nearly cracked beneath the attack. The beast’s head snapped violently to the side, its arm limp before it could ever reach Ishii.

Ishii used this opportunity to twist the blade deeper, hoping to reach its core.

But something was wrong.

The flesh around the wound began to writhe faster than he anticipated. Even whilst the creature’s constitution was weakened, its regeneration was absurd.

Ishii wondered if he should attempt the same attack as he had done with the other creature, surely no creature could survive without its head.

"Ishii! Let me handle it!"

Ishii didn’t think twice about moving. Even if he knew he was one of the strongest amongst his group, Ishii’s trust in them was deep.

What he didn’t expect was for Bailey to be the one to come forward. The person who always allowed the others to take the initiative, the one who lacked the urgency to kill and grow stronger like she once had before.

Bailey rushed forward with her spear, a weapon that was no ordinary spear, but a trident. She always had a good head on her shoulders, and despite her earlier lack of motivation, she still wanted to be useful, to not lose anyone else closest to her. She understood that not everyone could be strong, and it was only those who had a unique trait who could be considered truly strong.

If she was going to be useful, if she wanted to change, then she needed to focus on her own unique ability.

Bailey’s trident radiated with the power of Mark’s aura that continued to envelop her. The blue-golden aura gathered at the prongs of her weapon that vibrated so strongly that the very air began to hum. The vibrations spun so strongly that just holding the spear became difficult to accomplish.

Normally when this happened, she would stop feeding mana into her weapon, subconsciously afraid of losing control, of harming herself. But this time, she continued to feed mana into it, causing it to vibrate beyond her normal levels. The vibrations burned in her hands, the friction burning away her skin unbelievably fast. Her palms split open under the strain, but she didn’t let go.

Her feet hit the ground hard, momentum building with every stride. She didn’t hesitate. She wouldn’t allow herself to continue to hesitate.

She screamed as she drove the weapon forward, blood mixing with the aura that wrapped around the trident. "Die Already!"

The trident didn’t just plunge through the creature’s body. The weapon drilled its way through its heart, the light enveloping her weapon erupted like a geyser from the impact point. The beast’s mouth opened in a silent howl as its body jerked violently, before it inevitably stopped.

For a moment, reality in Bailey’s eyes stopped. She panted, sweat pouring along her brow. She didn’t look back to see the stunned expressions from her friends.

"Good hit, Bailey." Ishii’s compliment startled her as she took a while to digest what he just said, looking at her achievement once again.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself smile. Not because it was over, but because now she proved that she had what it takes, and that she still belonged.

But the moment of triumph was short-lived. Before the others could even appreciate their victory, Paul groaned in unbearable pain, making the others remember that he was infected.

The armor around his shoulder had been destroyed, revealing his mangled flesh that was already pulsating as if it were alive. They had never seen an infection act so fast. Even within Isabelle’s purifying barrier, the infection wasn’t showing signs of being healed at all.

Isabelle rushed to Paul’s side, activating her ability solely designed to rid infections. There was a brief moment of relief when she saw the spell take effect. Pools of dark, corrupted blood began to seep from his wound. Everyone believed that he would be saved, that they had safely begun treatment before it was too late.

But then nearly two minutes passed. Isabelle’s face was already being filled with sweat from concentrating on the spell without pause. And yet, all she was able to do was prevent the infection from spreading further. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Mark rushed over, retrieving a potion of murky green liquid, one that glowed more brightly than any other infectious cure they ever used. Paul took it without a shred of chivalry, almost snatching it from Mark’s hand before he gulped it down. Paul didn’t mind dying for his friends, but what he didn’t want was to turn into one of those things, potentially being the one to kill them.

They waited anxiously for the potion to take effect. They didn’t believe that the potion would fail, not when the purity of the potion was so high.

Yet nothing happened, and during the time Isabelle stopped using her ability, the infection had spread even further.

"How is this possible?!"

No one had an answer. But they couldn’t sit around trying to figure out why the potion hadn’t worked.

Mark was the first to move. He moved under Paul’s arm, pulling his weight onto his body as the others looked towards him in confusion.

"We don’t have much time. Those things were made by Noah’s creatures. If anyone could figure out how to save Paul, it can only be him."

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Present Time

"No-Noah!" Mark’s labored breaths reached Noah’s ears as Noah watched them stop a few feet away from his creatures. Even with Paul’s state of being, none of them were foolish enough to not respect Noah’s creatures eyeing their every move.

"Paul is infected! By those things made by Fenrir! Please help him, you have to help him! I’ll do anything!" Bailey pleaded in their stead. Her earlier pride was completely washed away after realizing that she was about to lose someone close to her again. She couldn’t lose Paul. If she did, she believed that she would truly fall apart.

Noah still had a lot on his mind, even now he barely cared about their situation; about Bailey’s tears or whether Paul’s injuries came from Fenrir’s abominations. He had just escaped death, deemed to be killed just for his existence. He was tired, tired of everyone, tired of the world always trying to tell him what he should do, or who he should be.

Why should he help them? Why was it his fault? If the people never tried to kill him, none of this would’ve happened.

His mood soured, and the others felt it. But they couldn’t know what Noah had just gone through. The sounds from before they could only amount it to Noah’s rampage. No one in their right mind would believe that Noah had literally fought one of God’s angels and that God himself was real.

But even as that bitterness welled up in him, threatening to overflow, Noah’s eyes landed on Mark.

Exhaustion was etched into Mark’s face, turmoil in his eyes, but he didn’t waver. He didn’t plead. He just stood there, carrying Paul’s limp weight, eyes locked with Noah’s, not in judgement, not in resentment, but in belief.

Belief that Noah could do something. That he, of all people, could save Paul when no one else could.

And Noah could. And he knew he could.

But that meant taking responsibility again. Becoming what they always tried to mold him into.

A savior... and a tool.

Mark understood, he knew that Noah had no reason to help them. He had helped them too many times to count, and how do they repay him? They ask for more, they demand more.

"Noah..." Mark muttered, but his voice somehow was able to reach everyone. "To save Paul, we really are willing to do anything. It doesn’t matter what it takes. We have over twenty thousand gold that we can give you. It’s all we have. If you want the spoils of our loot, we can give you that as well. If gold isn’t enough...then..."

Mark found his next words hard to say. He looked over to his friends, their gazes locked onto him. He could feel their uncertainty, but none of them interrupted. Not even Bailey, though she was now at Paul’s side, gripping his arm that was more wolf than human, like she could keep him from changing through will alone.

"If that isn’t enough, then at least give Paul the chance to live, a chance to not lose himself...even if you need to make him one of your tamed creatures."

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