SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 109: Holy aura

"How is this possible!!"

Darius screamed aloud, his voice echoing through the tranquil forest clearing. His expression was twisted in disbelief—pure, visceral disbelief. A proud Stage 3 being, someone who had stood atop mountains of corpses and broken warriors, now found himself unable to control his own body.

The sheer absurdity of the situation left him dumbfounded.

His muscles resisted his commands. His limbs trembled, disobeying even the simplest motion. His body... was betraying him.

"Heh~ Little prince, what is not possible?" Noctyss’ voice rang out like a teasing bell, her steps graceful as she approached him. A soft, almost mischievous smile bloomed on her face, her silver-white hair dancing in the breeze like wisps of winter smoke.

Darius’ instincts kicked in the moment she came too close.

Without thinking, he stepped back.

And that reaction stunned him more than anything else.

He moved back. From a woman who wasn’t even Stage 3. His body recoiled on its own.

His brow furrowed deeply, his eyes narrowing to slits.

Weird. Very weird. This whole situation is—off.

His breathing turned shallow, controlled, as the warrior inside him screamed for distance. He needed space. Time. Somewhere to think. Somewhere to figure out why everything about this woman and his body was so wrong.

I need to get out of here.

His inner voice repeated it like a mantra.

All these strange changes happening without his will, without his understanding—it terrified him. Something was profoundly wrong, and instinct alone told him: somehow this woman was responsible for it.

Meanwhile, Noctyss watched him with a growing curl to her lips. Internally, her thoughts swirled with excitement.

So the pesky mosquito didn’t lie... I really can order Darius around.

Her eyes gleamed with hidden fire. The invisible chains binding her had become tools in her hands. And not only did the control work—it felt even stronger now.

Stronger when I had my Demon Queen Divinity active...

Just what is this skill...? she wondered, not with dread but with awe.

Earlier that morning, Ricky had summoned her. Without any dramatic build-up, he had calmly asked her to become the leader of the slave legion. The order caught her off guard at first, but in the next breath, realization dawned—and a slow, satisfied smile bloomed across her lips.

So that’s what this is.

Ricky hadn’t made the decision impulsively. No, he had thought everything through. Carefully. Strategically.

The number of slaves under his control was only going to increase. Managing each one individually would become an exhausting burden. Even for someone like him.

And so, Ricky did what a true ruler would—he began building a hierarchy.

A structured framework. A command chain.

To do this, he devised a way to divide his control—through a lesser version of the Mother and Son Poison. A diluted but effective variant that could be granted to three individuals, allowing them to command others within the enslaved network.

The idea had excited Ricky, but he didn’t act on it recklessly. He had hesitated.

What if it backfired?

What if those granted power tried to rebel?

But his concerns were unfounded.

The core control would always remain with him. Absolute. Unshakable. The modified poison ensured it—no matter what. Even if they harbored resentment, even if they nurtured ambition, they couldn’t act on it. Not without invoking a fatal backlash. The poison was tied to their souls. Their very existence would not permit it.

And now, Noctyss stood as proof.

She hadn’t just accepted the role. She had thrived in it.

With the remanats of Demon Queen Divinity enhancing her aura and the chains of control wrapping tighter around others like Darius, she was no longer just a slave—

She was a queen of slaves.

The skill was truly terrifying in its effect.

Ricky had witnessed it firsthand—its authority was absolute. Even when Noctyss had tried to lash out at him in the past, her own body had refused to follow her will. Her intention to harm him had been clear... yet her limbs froze, her power wilted, her rage rendered useless by the binding force etched into her soul.

That’s why, ever since Noctyss began approaching Darius, Ricky’s attention had subtly locked onto her. He didn’t interfere, merely watched like a silent overseer, tracking every word, every reaction.

Once everything proceeded smoothly—Darius reacting just as expected, Noctyss asserting her newfound authority—Ricky allowed his attention to drift elsewhere.

He turned his gaze to the borders of the Thousand Emerald Green Forest.

And what he saw there made his eyes narrow.

In recent days, all sorts of people, monsters, and warriors had begun arriving in large numbers. The outer edges of the forest had turned into a gathering point—shanty settlements had sprung up overnight, and slowly, a fragile semblance of civilization had begun to form among the chaos.

The world outside was burning. Entire regions had fallen to the undead tide.

But for now... the Emerald Green Forest remained untouched. Safe.

And that safety had become a beacon.

Refugees from across the Eldros Kingdom came in waves.

Veteran warriors who had lost their homes.

Children who were the sole survivors of massacred villages.

Spiritual monsters who had been driven to the brink by the relentless undead horde.

All found themselves drawn here.

In just a few days, the population of the forest’s outer village had exploded. The shattered remnants of humanity—and beastkind—clung to this small sanctuary with desperate hope.

And with them came noise. Life. Energy.

The once-ruined forest had begun to stir again. Its burnt foliage grew green once more. Birds returned. Fires were lit. Laughter echoed again between trees that had once wept in silence.

But Ricky’s expression remained dark.

Despite the illusion of peace, he knew something that the others didn’t. Something only a few could sense.

Deep beneath this revitalized forest, hidden far from sight, the embryo of the Undead Princess slumbered.

Her presence hung in the air like an invisible blade—silent, patient, poised to descend at any moment.

It was a threat that turned this blooming sanctuary into a time bomb.

And that—more than the gathering undead armies, more than the desperate survivors—was what truly disturbed Ricky.

She’s still down there... he thought grimly.

There was nothing he could do for now. No amount of planning, no spell, no negotiation would change it. The seed had been planted long ago.

All he could do... was wait.

Wait for the moment it would awaken.

Wait for the blade to fall.

And when it did—

The forest wouldn’t be a sanctuary anymore.

It would be the first to bleed.

Just then, Ricky’s antenna twitched.

A ripple passed through his body, subtle but undeniable. His instincts flared, honed through battles and blood, warning him of something beyond the ordinary.

He turned his gaze toward the north.

From that direction, a strange aura surged into the forest—pure, almost divine. It wasn’t violent, yet it held an overwhelming presence, holy in nature... as if a celestial being had descended from the heavens themselves.

"Who is it?" Ricky whispered.

The Emerald Green Forest had become a beacon. People—warriors, refugees, wanderers—were pouring in from every corner of the continent. It was impossible to know who might appear next.

But this aura wasn’t something ordinary.

It was imposing, commanding attention like a sun in the sky. Even among the chaotic influx of strangers, this presence stood apart—radiant, absolute.

Ricky’s brows furrowed.

If a group of Stage 3 beings entered the forest right now... it would spell disaster. He could handle one, perhaps, especially with the aid of his second spiritual space, but if there were more—he wouldn’t stand a chance.

He could only pray.

Unless...

His mind turned to the only weapon he possessed that could shift the balance—lifespan absorption.

But it came at a cost.

Where can I get enough lifespan? he wondered, his thoughts swirling like a storm. One possibility after another flashed through his mind, none of them viable, none of them safe.

A deep sigh escaped his lips.

His expression darkened.

"It appears... I’ll have to rely on that guy after all."

For as long as possible, Ricky had avoided tapping into the lifespan of the True Eternal Origin race. That bloodline came with... complications—severe ones. Dangers he still didn’t fully understand.

He had delayed the choice. Hesitated.

But now, the forest was filling with power—unknown, unpredictable.

And if that divine aura truly belonged to one of the old monsters walking in a new skin...

Then the time for hesitation was running out.

---

Meanwhile, at the outer edge of the Emerald Green Forest...

Two figures cloaked in immaculate white robes emerged silently from the shadow of ancient trees. One was a young woman, radiant and ethereal; the other, an aged man with wisdom etched into every wrinkle of his face.

The contrast between them was stark, yet they moved with the same quiet dignity, as if they belonged to a realm above mortals.

"Uncle, is this the place where the Undead Princess’s Zygote was last seen?"

A serene, melodic voice echoed gently through the trees.

The speaker was a young woman of otherworldly beauty. Her eyes were like polished crystal—clear, intelligent, and steady—brimming with an inner calm. Her skin was pale as moonlight, smooth and unblemished, as though untouched by time or hardship. Her black hair fluttered in the breeze like silk, and her white robe danced with every step, whispering against the grass without making a sound.

A golden belt shimmered at her waist, highlighting her graceful form—serpent-like and regal, every motion infused with unspoken nobility.

She looked less like a warrior and more like a celestial being sent to walk among mortals.

"Yes, Miss," the old man replied, his tone grave, respectful. "This time... the undead breakout occurred earlier than the prophecies predicted. We must collect as much information as possible before the forest’s aura shifts again."

His voice was rough like old parchment, but unwavering.

His eyes, though weathered, still burned with sharpness.

This was no ordinary servant, but a guardian—one who had walked through storms and fire to stand beside her now.

They stood at the edge of the forest, but the air already felt heavier—as if the land itself remembered death and decay. The lush greenery and signs of rebirth were only a fragile skin stretched over a deep, rotting wound beneath.

Their presence hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Something old and powerful had begun watching them from afar.

And somewhere deep in the forest, Ricky’s antenna twitched once more.

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