Becoming a Monster

Chapter 591: Chapter 590: The Demon Appears

Nearly seventy monsters stood silently beyond the outermost edge of the territory.

None of them attempted to move any closer.

Even from a distance, the towering barricades surrounding the settlement had begun resembling a fortress more than a simple wall.

The group was primarily made up of goblins and trolls, many of whom had long since evolved beyond the variants Noah had encountered before. Crude armor covered their bodies, while barbaric weapons rested comfortably in their hands.

Massive warthog-like beasts stood near the front, each restrained by specialized trolls gripping heavy chains wrapped around their bodies.

Standing apart from the monsters were the elves.

Their charcoal-like skin and finely crafted armor made them look completely out of place among their companions.

The elves barely spared the monsters beside them a glance. When they did, the contempt in their eyes was impossible to hide.

The monsters in question disregarded those gazes. Many struggled to even remain still.

Heavy breaths escaped from flared nostrils while their hands repeatedly tightened around weapons that looked just as crude as their owners, despite the surprising craftsmanship behind them.

Others shifted their weight from foot to foot, their eyes never leaving the towering settlement before them as though every instinct in their bodies urged them to charge.

It had been far too long since any of them had been allowed to indulge themselves.

The slaughter of the weak humans that had appeared within the strange structure days earlier had barely been enough to satisfy them.

They wanted a real battle.

A battle where the other side could fight back. A battle where the blood and mana of a formidable opponent would strengthen them.

Yet despite the anticipation spreading through the ranks, not a single monster stepped forward.

More often than not, their eager gazes drifted toward the lone figure standing at the very front of the gathering.

Crimson streaks ran through the elf’s distinct hair, while finely crafted armor covered his body from head to toe.

His gaze ignored the presence of creatures within the walls. Some of them bared their fangs towards them despite the fact that they were also frightened by their auras.

His crimson eyes slowly swept across the towering roots, his scrutiny only deepening the longer he observed them.

As an elf, even one corrupted by demonic mana, his affinity with nature had never disappeared. If anything, it had only become stronger.

It was because of that heightened affinity that the others failed to notice what immediately stood out to him.

The natural energy flowing through the trees, the grass, and the countless roots forming those walls was astonishing in itself.

Yet beneath all of it, he could distinctly sense the presence of a dryad.

The problem was…

Nothing about that presence resembled the dryads he knew.

The longer the elven leader observed the settlement, the more convinced he became that the “demon” hidden within this forest was far more extraordinary than they had first anticipated.

That only strengthened his resolve to bring it before his Queen. Failure wasn’t an option.

Because of this, the racket the goblins and trolls were causing made his eyes narrow with mild annoyance.

Without taking his eyes off the towering walls, a suffocating pressure suddenly erupted from his body.

The atmosphere instantly changed. The goblins and trolls that moments earlier struggled to contain themselves immediately fell silent.

None of them dared move or speak, for that matter. They knew better than anyone what kind of person stood before them.

He wasn’t the reserved, peaceful elf who lived secluded in nature from everyone else.

He was a demonic elf. One who wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of them for the slightest offense.

The most terrifying part wasn’t his strength.

It was that none of them truly understood what he considered an act of defiance. The standards by which he judged others shifted with his mood, leaving every goblin and troll constantly wondering whether their next action would earn his approval… or become the reason they died.

Even now, one troll reacted a fraction of a second too slowly.

After silence had already settled over the rest, one final grunt escaped its throat.

That alone was enough to defy the leader’s unspoken command.

No one saw the elf move. His arm flicked almost lazily before returning to his side as his attention never once left the settlement.

The troll in question felt a small prick in its skin; instinctively, it looked down.

Embedded within its abdomen was a tiny black seed.

Confusion was the only thing it had time to feel before the seed suddenly burrowed deeper into the wound.

The troll immediately let out an agonizing scream.

Its claws frantically tore at its own stomach, desperately trying to rip whatever had entered its body back out.

It was already too late.

Thick black roots spread beneath its skin with terrifying speed, greedily consuming everything they touched. Flesh, blood, muscle, and even bone rapidly disappeared as though they were nothing more than nutrients.

The troll’s body suddenly lurched backward. Its spine bent at an impossible angle before violently splitting apart.

Twisted branches erupted from its back while countless roots burst from beneath its feet, burying themselves deep into the earth.

Its arms lengthened unnaturally as bark swallowed them whole, the fingers stretching into enormous claw-like roots capable of tearing through stone.

The troll desperately tried to scream again. What came out was a terrifying shriek that didn’t resemble a creature at all.

Its jaw split wider and wider until it no longer resembled a mouth at all. Jagged splinters of blackened wood forced their way through its gums while thick roots crawled through its throat, hollowing out everything inside until nothing remained except an enormous gaping maw lined with crooked fangs.

Moss rapidly spread across its body, while vines wrapped themselves around its limbs.

Fresh leaves blossomed from dead branches as though feeding upon the life that had only moments before belonged to the troll.

By the time the screaming finally stopped… There was no trace of the troll left.

Standing where it once knelt was a towering abomination that resembled an evil tree guardian more than a living creature.

Nothing remained of its thoughts, and even the goblin’s soul was consumed by the monstrosity in its place.

Not a single goblin or troll dared utter another sound.

A peculiar goblin residing not far from the elves clutched its staff. The chieftain… at least the old chieftain, felt unbelievable anger.

Anger towards the dead troll.

The troll’s mistake would become its own the moment they returned. To their leader, authority wasn’t measured by strength alone, but by absolute control.

Discipline, order, even the conduct of those beneath him, all reflected upon the one responsible for leading them. If any of those qualities were found lacking, then the leader was judged to be lacking as well.

That was precisely why none of the elves dared step out of line.

Goosebumps exposed on its skin as it thought about what would happen to it when they went back.

However, as it thought about that moment, its hands loosened as it let out a deep, relieved breath. It glanced towards the towering figure beside it. It was only at this moment that it was relieved that it lost its leadership.

“Troll.” No one was given the opportunity to gather their thoughts when the elven leader called out.

The single word left the elven leader’s mouth without him ever looking away from the fortress before him.

Every troll immediately stiffened.

Each one anxiously waited, none of them willing to be the first to move without knowing which of them had been summoned.

Only after the largest among them stepped forward did the others finally relax.

The troll towered over the rest of its kin.

Its massive frame resembled a mountain of blackened stone more than living flesh. Jagged spikes protruded from its shoulders, back, and forearms, while crimson veins pulsed beneath the charcoal-colored hide like molten lava trapped beneath cooling rock.

Resting upon one shoulder was an enormous greatsword.

Calling it a sword almost felt inadequate.

The blade alone was nearly as long as the troll’s body. It was thick, brutally simple, and so massive that most creatures would’ve mistaken it for a piece of a castle gate before ever calling it a sword.

Every step drove its feet deep into the earth, leaving behind footprints large enough to swallow an ordinary goblin.

Despite its immense size…

Its movements remained surprisingly controlled.

Not once did the giant allow the tremendous weight of its weapon to disturb its balance.

Within only a few moments, the giant troll stopped several paces behind the elven leader before lowering itself onto one knee.

Its massive sword rested on the ground as its head bowed low, not daring to speak until given permission.

Otuk, the once-proud troll chieftain, was remarkably well-behaved whenever it stood before the elf who barely reached its knee.

It had learned long ago that the ring adorning the elf’s finger was far more than a tool capable of granting strength.

The ritual forged through the blood of both parties allowed that same power to be stripped away just as easily.

And losing that blessing was no different from losing its life.

Only after several moments of silence did the elven leader finally speak.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“You’ve waited a long time to return to this place. Your current strength exists solely because of the obsession you have with the creatures here.”

Otuk tried to remain perfectly still. Only… its blazing eyes betrayed the fury it struggled to contain.

Its fist crackled like thunder the moment it clenched it.

Just thinking about that day, and thinking about how close it was to reclaiming the pride it had lost-

“Do not mistake why you’re here.”

“For now, your hatred is meaningless.”

“If that demon proves worthy of serving Her Majesty…”

“Then you’ll bury your revenge alongside your pride.”

Otuk’s breathing unconsciously grew heavier.

Before it realized what it was doing, its eyes had already lifted toward the elf.

Only then did it realize its mistake. It had forgotten who stood before it.

Fortunately, the elven leader paid no mind.

“Listen well.”

“And behave well.”

“At least then, I’ll allow you to be the first to determine whether the demon is worthy of Her Maje-“

His voice abruptly stopped.

The towering walls surrounding the settlement slowly began separating.

The grinding of countless roots echoed throughout the forest, immediately drawing every eye toward the opening.

The elven leader’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

The moment the figure stepped beyond the walls, he no longer needed to ask Otuk who the demon was.

Its presence, its aura, and that “eye”…

Without a doubt, the creature standing before him was the demon.