Becoming a Monster

Chapter 418: Chapter 418: A Troll Became A Coward

The dreadguard’s body was almost as large as the very behemoth Arachne had killed in the forest.

Not only had it grown in size, but beneath the junction where its humanoid torso fused into the spider’s massive body, a second head had formed, a monstrous spider’s skull fashioned from the same dense armor as the rest.

Its jaws parted, revealing cannibalistic teeth and four massive fangs. Two additional mandibles framed its mouth, each looking even deadlier.

Yet the most unsettling part wasn’t its size. It was the dragon traits woven into its form.

Along the spider’s armored skull, horn-like ridges curled back, black vapor drifted between its teeth. Although its newly emerged face was still considered to be a part of the dreadguard’s body, its eyes and head moved as if it were its only living identity.

The drake’s traits extended past just its head; even its eight legs were reinforced by its new traits. The joints were thicker, reinforced with darkened plates. And the ends were daunting, each one was as thick as a troll’s arm.

The dreadguard’s presence became a focal point of the battle. Noah found himself surprised, witnessing its strength, not hesitating to study the creature with his Nexus Eye. The dreadguard’s power, the way it is now, was equal to Dummy after becoming a Fallen, and this creature was not even born for more than a day!

The troll didn’t share Noah’s appreciation for the creature’s strength. It stood gawking at the monstrosity that had grown to such a size right before its eyes. When had it ever seen such an ability before? What kind of beast was this? Where did it even come from?

Above it, the dreadguard’s humanoid torso leaned forward slightly, peering down with a solemn, empty gaze. There was no hatred, no thrill, no acknowledgment as a threat.

To the dreadguard, the troll wasn’t an enemy; it was simply an objective. Even if the opponent turned out to be leagues stronger than it, it would look at the enemy with the same unapologetic gaze. It will do what it was created for. It was a directive issued by its Queen. And directives, no matter who it was, or the impossibility of the mission, needed to be carried out decisively.

The moment its growth stabilized, when the spider, whose entity seemed to fully come to life, was done transforming, the dreadguard made its move.

Two of its front legs slammed into the ground on either side of the troll, the force cracking the earth and sending clumps of dirt erupting upward. The troll staggered from the force on both sides, instinctively raising its arms as if it were bracing against falling trees.

It realized that the spider had missed its ambush, not realizing that the dreadguard wasn’t aiming to crush.

It was trapping it.

The troll’s first instinct was to remove itself from between the enemy’s legs. But it found that the legs were squeezed together, preventing it from going anywhere. The troll was left to drop its weapon, placing both hands against the opposing legs to push them apart to wedge itself free.

Despite the dreadguard’s size, the troll felt its legs budging the moment it pressed. If not for the dreadguard’s weight, it felt it could’ve easily outpowered it. The space it created was enough to maneuver, but now it needed a plan to attack. Its only chance to fight back was to attack the legs.

The troll quickly reached for its weapon, but before it could attack, the light surrounding it was quickly disappearing. Its head snapped up to find the spider’s head not too far away. It was so close that the troll could smell the creature’s breath. It was nauseating, and...wrong. It was a smell of death that had aged for far too long, as if it were an accumulation of the dead that was enclosed for centuries and was exposed for the first time.

The spider’s mouth was fully opened, its fangs dripping with a viscous liquid. Unlike its humanoid half, the lower face carried an animalistic hunger. It wanted to eat the troll. It intended to end the fight in a single bite.

The troll tried to retreat, instinct taking over, but its back hit the same legs that had trapped it moments ago. The armored limbs didn’t budge this time.

The troll threw both arms up, hands planted against the fangs, shoving with everything it had to keep those jaws from closing around its skull. Its muscles roared as it strained to push the predator back.

It was succeeding, just barely. The troll’s overall strength was strong. Coupled with the fact that the troll was using the ground as its support, it felt that it could hold out at least until help arrived.

The fangs continued to inch closer. The troll’s arms trembled, its elbows threatening to buckle at any moment. However, the space between the two no longer budged. The two were now in a standoff.

Then the spider did something it didn’t expect.

Suddenly, the smell of death grew stronger, so strong the troll gagged on instinct. A low hiss came from the creature’s throat, and before the troll’s eyes, a gas began to seep from the spider’s mouth.

A thick, grayish-black fog, crawling outward at a slow, almost lazy pace. Too slow to hit anything that could move. But the troll could not move.

The first tendril of gas reached its face, layering over its eyes. Its vision blurred immediately.

Then its world erupted in pain.

A shriek tore out of its throat. It was a scream that reached every part of the battlefield, louder than anything the trolls had made that fight. For something like it, something born of savagery to scream in that tone...

Every troll was distracted by it.

The fog wasn’t as instantly lethal as Diablo’s miasma, but it was worse in its own way. Wherever the fog touched, the troll’s flesh blistered and burned. Its lips cracked, smoke leaking from the corners. Its eyes swelled and dissolved into tears of blood. Every patch of skin the fog seeped into began to rot.

And then it healed.

And then it burned again.

Over and over, its regeneration became its own worst enemy, forcing it to relive the agony nonstop, each cycle quicker than the last, the pain compounding until its mind began to fray.

Its legs buckled fully, no longer able to bear its own weight. And that giant face, still showcasing its rows of teeth, had finally secured its prey. And its counterpart above it was now looking towards Eve, its primary directive. Making sure that no one else posed a threat to her.

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With the dreadguard and Kratos preventing Eve from being outnumbered, there was still one troll who escaped their net.

The massive brute barreled in from the rear, fists raised, eyes locked on Diablo. It charged straight past the troll who initially called for help, and past the Ava illusions, unbothered, as if they weren’t even there.

Seeing the troll run past it, the injured troll released a strangled roar, a sound closer to a plea than a battle cry.

Help me with these three!

But the newcomer ignored it, swinging at Diablo instead.

The troll’s heart plummeted. It didn’t understand. It couldn’t understand. Why wasn’t the other troll seeing them? Why wasn’t it attacking the things tearing into its body? Why wasn’t anyone saving it?

The Avas struck again, each attack rained down without an end. For the first time in its life, the troll felt the threat of death looming over it. Something deep within it snapped. It realized something...All the pain it suffered only came from one direction.

Its front.

The back of its body was never touched. Even when it twisted and turned to attack one of the phantom-like creatures, the others never attacked it from behind.

It didn’t make sense. Logic wasn’t something trolls relied on, not in battle, and certainly not now. But instinct drove it more than thought.

The moment the three Avas surged forward again, the troll, in sheer desperation, spun around and dropped to its knees, its back turned to them. Both arms rose to shield its skull. Out of all the tortures, the pain to its head was the worst.

His sudden retreat was noticed by the chieftain.

It scoffed.

To the chieftain, all it saw was cowardice. A troll trembling on its knees even after its opponent was no longer fighting it. A troll who harbored that level of fear was better off dead.

But the troll itself felt the opposite. It felt hope for the first time. There was no pain. It understood that if it just kept its back turned, if it no longer faced the horrors, it would live.

It poured every ounce of its will not to open its eyes. Even with the chaotic noise around it, it would rather remain in the dark instead of facing those three again.

But then a wave of dizziness hit it. Its vision swayed. The troll found that its breaths became more difficult than before... Its limbs weakened as though each bone doubled in weight.

Another layer of confusion swallowed it.

And it still didn’t realize the truth... The "bug" latched onto its neck... was still drinking.

Eve was consuming liters of its blood, and siphoning away its mana in a steady, ceaseless stream. Her feeding caused no pain.

And no matter how much the troll could regenerate its wounds, its regeneration was ineffective against Eve’s appetite.