Becoming a Monster

Chapter 377: Chapter 377: When Faith Answers

The scene changed.

Everyone was left outside while Mark and his most trusted group were back inside.

But they weren’t alone.

The priestess had come with them. She stood at the head of her entourage. Alongside them stood Thalric, as rigid as ever. His armored mount left outside but his hand was never far from the hilt of his weapon. At his back were three of his most trusted guild warriors, their eyes scanning every corner of the room as though expecting the walls themselves to turn against them.

It was Mark who had brought them here, to the room bathed in divine energy. Not because he had wished to at first, but because the priestess demanded proof with her words. She had spoken of a prophecy, of a God who foresaw their sudden arrival in this world. A God who declared that Mark himself would rise as the hero to stand against the Demon Lord, to shield this realm from falling from the Demon Lord’s fury.

But it hadn’t ended with him.

Her voice had turned toward Isabelle. According to the priestess, she was chosen as well; chosen to bear the will of their god, to be the one who could communicate directly with one of the angels most beloved by heaven. Isabelle was foretold to eventually become the bridge between the righteous and the condemned.

Those claims weighed heavily on Mark. His thoughts were ironic. For someone who truly wanted to be a hero, for a young man whose pride was blinded by idealism. He now was left with a bitter taste. He should be ecstatic at the prospect that even in this world he was preordained to be everyone’s hero, everyone’s hope. But now, he wished the priestess was wrong.

He still wished to be a hero, but now he only felt as if he was just a piece in someone else’s game. After witnessing Noah defy fate, defy logic. Mark too wanted to do the same, to achieve power and create miracles through his own efforts. But now, he felt that all of his efforts, his beliefs, all of it had already been decided for him. And even if it wasn’t, there was someone out there who was already aware of what he was going to do. They already foresaw the people who might die by his side along the way, and they knew of the people he had lost before their time.

His grip was strong around his blade.

Mark didn’t hate this God... but he couldn’t agree with the faith that surrounded them. If such a being truly had the power to prevent suffering, to spare good people from dying, then why hesitate? Why allow it to happen at all?

He would be a hero. But he would be the kind of hero who saved those who deserved saving through his own will, even if that meant defying the prophecy, defying fate itself. He would be a hero who would save all of those who deserve it.

On the other hand, Isabelle was taking in the situation better than the others. Where Mark’s heart was heavy with doubt, hers was unnaturally calm.

The voice within her was calming, even when she couldn’t understand its words. But as they approached the field of holy energy, with the priestess in tow. Isabelle could hear the voice’s words more clearly than she ever had before. It was a beautiful voice, a voice whose every syllable was a sound of a hymn guiding her spirit.

”Do not be afraid, child. Do not doubt the weight upon your shoulders. You are no longer alone; I am with you, and I will share your burdens even when you don’t speak of them. When your steps falter, I will guide them. When your strength wanes, I will lift you. All you need to do is remain as you are. That is why I chose you.”

The priestess noticed Isabelle’s behavior, she wore a serene smile that never left her face as she continued to fixate on Isabelle. No one was oblivious to this stare.

She spoke of Mark’s importance, she also bore witness to the majestic holy field. But none of it seemed to place as much importance to her than the one who could hear the voice of their God.

_______

The others were finding the information hard to process themselves. But Thalric on the other hand didn’t care about the priestess’s prophecy. He respected the clerics, their reputation for warding off the demons who threatened their world.

However, that was all there was to it. Their faith did not dictate his way of being.

And as the others were so hung up over the field of holy energy. Thalric’s brows were furrowed. His gaze couldn’t remove itself from the destruction in the room. And the presence of something heavy, an aura that had yet to disperse, one that was as heavy and ominous as a demon he had long experienced once before.

”Rosenthal...” The voice was louder than before, startling the others.

The priestess’s guards glared towards the voice, their devotion to the priestess was obsessive. None took kindly to her being interrupted, even when it was from a guild master.

Their behavior was ignored, and before they could become riled up, their ignorance gave way to caution.

It was rare for Thalric to be so worked up. The soldiers quickly responded, regrouping around their priestess. If he had sensed something, then they needed to be on guard, for their priestess’s safety took precedence over their own life.

Mark, however, was just as quick to respond to the voice. His mannerisms didn’t mirror their hostility. He wasn’t startled by Thalric’s words. He had been watching Thalric and his group analyzing and seriously discussing the room’s destruction. If anything, he already had an idea what the man was about to say.

”This place...” Thalric’s eyes shifted, his expression was dark, his aura becoming darker. Mark was beginning to doubt his initial understanding. Perhaps there was something about this room that even he had missed.

”It reeks of a demon... a strong demon, at that.”

The words shocked those around them, specifically the priestess and her guards. Her entourage stiffened, their auras flaring at the mere threat of a possible demon.

But what made it worse was their inability to sense any residual aura of a demon.

”Rosenthal... you’re strong. That much I can attest to just by your aura. But... you’re not capable of fighting something like this. So tell me, how does a place like this exist here, with you all still breathing?”

The question struck deeper than any accusation. The clerics and knights, who had been on high alert, overexerting themselves to sense any remnant of a demon, now changed their stance.

They looked towards Mark with wary gazes.

Their priestess had declared him the prophesied hero. But what if she was wrong? What if this man had deceived them?

Jasmine and the others were struck by the same revelation. They had fought tooth and nail against zombies and the undead, but never once had they faced a demon.

But as if enlightened all at once, their surprise turned to unease as they remembered the one who had actually fought here.

And it wasn’t Mark.

It was Noah.

Their unease wasn’t born from fear of Noah, but from guilt. They had scorned him, fought against him, pushed him away time after time. And yet, he had saved them... again and again. He had saved Paul when he didn’t have to. Saved all of them when they had given him nothing but distrust.

And now... they were cornered into the reality that to protect themselves, they might have to paint Noah as something else. To call him what Thalric suspected... a demon.

They hesitated, but that very hesitance worked against them. The others instantly noticed their odd behavior, and their skepticism only deepened.

They needed to speak up, to say something, anything. But even Mark was unsure how to respond, his sense of responsibility and justice colliding within him.

It was then that a blinding light filled the silence.

All eyes were drawn to the source. And when they turned, not one person could look away. The tension, the suspicion, the talk of demons; it all evaporated in an instant.

What they saw was Isabelle. She faced away from them, hands clasped in prayer.

And what was happening in front of her was nothing short of an act of god. The sea of golden energy came alive. It shifted and flew through the air. At its densest moments, the energy was fluid while the rest was particles of sunlight that rotated around Isabelle’s figure.

With a simple gesture, Isabelle reached out with both hands. It was then that the energy all began to converge, as if the light itself had waited an eternity for her command.

Thalric watched as the energy began to form something around Isabelle’s hands. His vigilance heightened because of the unknown.

His gaze snapped sideways, seeking answers from the one person who might understand.

What he found disarmed him even more than the golden miracle.

The priestess was on her knees, trembling. Her jeweled staff glowed with the same divine essence that saturated the air, and her eyes now reflected the same energy.