Becoming a Monster

Chapter 277: Chapter 277: Beacons of Hope

The moment Mark entered the battle, the battlefield began to shift. The people who were aware of Mark’s strength and heroic persona began to try in earnest to make it to where he was, desperate to reach the people that could keep them alive.

The armed forces were no different. Although they were part of the corrupt system, survival was their priority.

Mark’s group didn’t stop moving, the sight of everyone making their way to them as if they were a beacon of hope spurred them on to fight even harder.

Mark’s body was glowing, his aura radiating so intensely that it manifested visibly around him. As more and more people sought him for protection, viewing him as their savior, their hero, his aura only grew stronger.

Rather than launching an attack, the energy building within him expanded outward, extending far enough to cover his entire group. Those within his aura received a buff that increased all of their attributes by half of their original values.

His eyes scanned the battlefield, his strength more than sufficient to take on the average zombie while still maintaining the buff for his group. However, doing so would drain his mana and stamina, both vital resources for facing the zombies that could pose a real threat to everyone there.

His gaze settled on a looming threat, already drawing closer: a zombie nearly three meters tall, with three pairs of arms at its sides. These arms, however, were unnatural, pure bone, shaped like blades, coated in blood and flesh from its recent kills.

The creature showed a hint of intelligence, food wasn’t its main agenda, it was going after anyone that turned its back towards it. From the way it moved, the creature’s physical attributes were close to his own.

”Ishii!”

”I’m on it!”

The two barely needed to speak to each other; Ishii was already aware of his role. Out of everyone present, he had proven time and again that he could stand on his own against enemies too powerful for even a large group to overcome.

The moment Mark called his name, Ishii was already in motion. The sound of his weapon being sheathed was almost louder than his footsteps, followed by the dull thud of a corpse hitting the ground behind him.

In combat, Ishii became a different person. The very air around him radiated danger. His expression was solemn, almost cold. Even as he watched a man effortlessly sliced into three pieces, his face remained unchanged.

His hand never left the hilt of his blade as he ran. Just before reaching his target, a zombie intercepted him. This one was strange, its arms almost non-existent, but its head was nearly three times the size of a normal creature. Each of its brownish-orange stained teeth was the size of Ishii’s face, and its breath reeked of rot.

Ishii’s gaze finally showed a hint of emotion. The zombie lunged head first, its mouth magically growing wider, the limit it stretched seemed to be endless. By the time Ishii was right upon it, the zombie’s mouth could already bite him in half.

For a melee swordsman, Ishii didn’t seem to have a way out, but when it seemed as if Ishii couldn’t escape, Ishii simply stopped. His center of gravity lowered while his hand gripped the hilt of his blade more firmly.

The air around them slightly distorted, it was a slight blur, similar to a scorching heat haze. The source of the haze circulated mostly from Ishii’s body. However, it wasn’t the haze that was the most distinguishable change, it was their presence. Ishii’s presence became stronger, while the zombie’s were becoming less oppressive. The scene was similar to seeing A lion once baring its fangs to now see a declawed lion missing all of its teeth.

The zombies’ movement became noticeably sluggish. Ishii on the other hand was nearly unaffected....until he made his move.

He didn’t move at first, but suddenly he was already in front of the creature, his blade that was finally unsheathed was bathed in a violet demonic energy that caused his entire sword to become completely black.

As the sword sliced through the zombie’s body that should’ve taken a bit of effort to cut through, the sword sliced through bone and muscle so cleanly that the scene felt surreal. And all the while, there was an image of Ishii still within his stance, the latter’s body slowly becoming transparent before it completely vanished.

Before the zombie hit the ground, Ishii already initiated his sprint towards the earlier creature that was descending towards its next victim. His speed was even faster than before, his sword that rested in its sheathed was still releasing its demonic energy.

The class Ishii gained was a class that fully allowed him to exploit his unique ability to the fullest. A class called, ”Phantasmal Kensei”. It was a class that fully encompassed his duelist-like capabilities, a class that didn’t just focus on one on one combat but heightened it to the point that each duel strengthened him.

Aside from his other supporting abilities, the ability that transcended the others was the ability to allow him to retain stolen strengths for a certain period of time. As long as the creature he stole the power from was slain by his sword filled with the energy of the creature he slain, energy that housed its soul.

The effects lasted for five minutes, but with the added class that was superior to normal advancements, his spirit boost extended the time to nearly seven minutes. The kill he achieved now would be his second, meaning this would be the second time that he increased his prowess. He had no doubts that he would be able to kill his intended target without fail.

The victim that had seen their comrades’ death was no longer running away. They already accepted that they would do needlessly if they didn’t fight back. Instead, the man turned with his hands raised. In front of him, a Tall figure suddenly appeared from a rift that appeared in front of him. A dark figure came out, a figure nearly five feet tall. The creature would’ve been taller if not for its hunched back and bent knees.

Its arms were nearly the same length as its body, both its feet and hands were massive for its size. Just from its initial appearance, the creature looked no different than a mutated imp. But seeing its elongated arms and its psychotic-like gaze, the term demon suited it better.

The demon looked firecous, and yet the man acted as if it wasn’t enough. His hand remained in the air, his face draining of color as another rift opened to summon yet another demon.

The demon was his form of power, his class was simply a higher version of a summoner that expanded in the direction of his dark element.

Both demons were summoned with their instructions already cleared. The two estranged creatures crackled with a heinous laughter while they approached the zombie.

As they lunged at the zombie, the zombie merely met their approach with its six bladed arms simultaneously, hacking in a manner that lacked any sense of experience. Despite its disgraceful swings, its wild speed turned a series of uncoordinated attacks into a flurry of death. its attacks were unpredictable.

The demons weren’t as fast, the blades were akin to a deathtrap and yet the demons didn’t know the meaning of fear. Their cackles grew louder, their faces were the embodiment of lunatics. Instead of retreating, instead of dodging, the two creatures rushed ahead, their arms outstretched as if they were daring to catch the bladed bones with their bare hands.

The demons continued to laugh even when the blades cut through their hands, their laughter growing stronger when the blades stuck within their flesh that was enhanced from the very depths of hell they originated from.

The creature seemed to lack any sense of intelligence, priding themselves in their small ”victory”, being able to stop four of its arms. Yet when the other two arms descended upon one of the demons, cutting into its neck and the other embedding itself into his head, the last demon’s laughter turned into a delirious war cry.

With the death of its kin, the demon neglected its blades that were buried in its flesh, its body lunged forward, its teeth bearing towards the zombie’s face. It was determined to tear the creature apart at all cost.

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The man who summoned the creatures watched horrified as his last demon now had four blades sticking through its figure, the demon clawed with savage resentment towards the blades, its nails creating deep, screeching sounds as they scraped against it.

He didn’t just have the power to summon demons, but he could also empower creatures created from darkness. Yet, the problem lay in his lack of mana. A problem that could easily be resolved with potions, if only he had any.

And that laid the problem with many of the civilians who were fighting. Their potions that could heal their injuries, their infections, or even recover their mana, nearly all of it was confiscated for the army to be able to (protect) them along with any loot they had obtained as long as they depended on their base for shelter.

The man was already feeling too lightheaded to run away, he hesitated, but then that’s when he saw the blur of a human running past.