Diary of the Improper Monster Girl Transformation.

Chapter 388 Special Instruction (8K, please subscribe!)
The training camp of the Mist Knights, an underground stone chamber.

Few people know that dozens of meters below the training grounds where paladins and monks used to train, there is a special stone chamber.

Deep underground, where sunlight cannot reach, a special suit of armor lies quietly hidden away.

Beneath the star-studded stones embedded in the stone chamber's dome, the faint, cool light cast a two-tone hue on Zoira's brown hair.

The robust female knight knelt on one knee on the cold stone slab. With just a slight tilt of her head, she could clearly see the Holy Armor five steps away.

Despite being called "Holy Armor," its current appearance has little to do with the name.

The once gleaming mithril patterns now gather into a faint cluster of light on the chest of the armor, like dying fireflies.

If it weren't for this tiny bit of remaining radiance, it would probably have been discarded as junk long ago.

"...Gu."

Zoira gazed at the armor with awe, a hint of excitement and longing flashing in her eyes, as she repeatedly recalled the origins of the armor in her mind.

Angel's battle armor.

This is an epic armor from the Angel of Conquest!

As a devout follower of the sun god, she had a strong reverence and longing for this lost armor.

She very much hopes to become the next wearer of this armor.

The reason it is called "wearer" instead of "master" is because this armor is not an ordinary magical tool, but a "creature" with its own independent consciousness.

Only by gaining its approval can one be qualified to wear it and receive its protection.

Others who are not recognized cannot get close to it at all, just like her now, they can only watch from afar.

Those who are rejected by it will not only fail to get close, but may even be attacked by it!
Zoira's ability to stay within five meters of this battle armor already indicates that she has gained some recognition.

At least the Spirit of the Armor doesn't dislike her.

Given some more time, Zoira might be able to actually touch it and become the new lucky one.

"...cough cough, cough cough."

Just then, a tired cough came from behind, interrupting Zoira's reverie and causing her expression to change.

Zoira knew without turning around that the stubborn old man was kneeling five meters behind her.

Zoira wasn't the only one in the stone chamber; there was another candidate.

Old Knight Morton.

This old knight, who was eight times his age, was also trying his best to gain the armor's approval.

Most of the monks in the monastery were unaware of the Angelic Armor, but for these high-ranking, late-stage paladins, it was no secret.

Every paladin is eligible to attempt to communicate with the battle armor and establish a connection with it, provided they actively apply.

However, due to the extremely high requirements, the monastery has not had a truly recognized wearer for a long time.

Most of them were borrowed by legendary cultivators after communicating with the spirit of the battle armor, rather than being truly recognized.

In a way, Zoira and Zoira are actually competitors.

But Zoira did not panic.

Because she knew that the other party was definitely no match for her!
Although it might be a bit much to say that, the other party was just a country knight born and raised in the countryside, while he himself was an elite from the glorious holy city of Solantis.

The Misty Monastery does not reject visiting monks.

The monks of the entire monastery are divided into three parts.

Some of them were trained by the monastery itself; most of them were orphans or commoners who had been saved by the monks.

There were also those who came from elsewhere for various reasons, like Herbert, who was "exiled" but eventually stayed and became monks.

Others come from other monasteries or religious churches.

These people make up the smallest proportion; most of them come here for short-term or long-term training and will leave after their training is over.

Zoira was such a monk.

As one of the more outstanding geniuses among the younger generation of the Church of the Sun, she decided to come to the Misty Monastery at the age of twenty-two, in order to gain the recognition of this lost angel armor.

As a believer who grew up under the church's tutelage and bathed in the light of the sun god, Zoira was always aware of her own advantages—her affinity for the spirit of the armor was definitely far greater than that of the other party.

The way the two are standing right now actually reveals some clues.

Zoira arrived at the stone chamber much later than Morton, but she was currently making faster progress than him.

Five meters versus ten meters.

That's right.

The advantage is mine!

In contrast to Zoira's confidence, the old knight appeared quite calm.

Despite being at a disadvantage, Morton did not give up. He knelt on one knee, praying calmly and patiently, and occasionally moved forward a small distance.

He ignored the other young man in the room, whose competitor was completely at his own pace.

Morton was aware of Zoira's idea and even admired it to some extent.

Young knights are proud, combative, and confident, which is not a bad thing; young people should have the character of young people.

If young people aren't spirited, are they really young?
But the old knight, who was over two hundred years old, had experienced too much and had long lost his edge, so he no longer needed to show his prowess.

Morton's body was covered with wounds of all sizes, and even his left eye had been blinded by a penetrating wound, making him look particularly ferocious.

There is no such thing as true disability in this world. As long as you pay the price, you can recover to your peak condition.

The Misty Monastery has no shortage of high-ranking priests, and helping him recover from his injuries would not cost anything.

But Morton refused help from others and insisted on keeping his injury.

In his youth, he had an almost fanatical obsession with improving his strength, believing that only by leaving these scars could he better improve his strength.

Although he has now given up his strong obsession with improving his strength, he still has not recovered from his injuries.

The old paladin had long been accustomed to these scars.

Now, he is more like a heavy sword whose edge has been dulled by countless fierce battles.

A heavy sword has no edge, and a heavy sword has no skill.

So, is Morton really at a complete disadvantage right now?
Although Zoira may not want to accept it, the truth is... not actually like that.

If Morton had wanted to, he could have been in Zoira's current position long ago, or even further ahead of her.

However, the old knight continued to advance slowly, step by step, at his own pace, without intending to disturb the spirit of the battle armor.

In fact, he may well have harbored the expectation that younger generations would surpass him.

Morton had actually been waiting all along.

If Zoira can successfully gain the approval of the War Armor Spirit, then he will voluntarily step back, a perfectly timed "one step behind".

This is not an intentional favoritism; it is simply an elderly person helping a younger generation.

Morton had no relatives, but if he hadn't become a paladin and joined a monastery, his great-great-granddaughter would probably be Zoira's age.

Hmm... he just really enjoys taking care of young people.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the duel between the two will continue indefinitely until a winner is determined.

It's a pity that God did not fulfill his wish.

Just when Zoira was one step away from success, an unexpected turn of events occurred.

The armored warrior, who had been silent and indifferent to the approach of the two, suddenly trembled.

Then, a dazzling light suddenly shone from the seemingly worn-out battle armor!
hum-

The sudden, unexpected turn of events startled Zoira, who abruptly looked up at the battle armor.

"Um!!?"

What happened?

After her initial bewilderment, she quickly became excited.

The angelic armor reacted, which means that the spirit of the armor has been fully awakened.

!!!

Could it be that this change is due to me taking another small step?
No, don't get excited!
Zoira clenched her fists tightly, barely managing to suppress the urge to get up and move forward.

"...Gu."

She remained kneeling on one knee, raised her head, and stared intently at the battle armor.

The young man was excited, thinking he had finally gained the approval of the spirit of the battle armor.

On the other side, the old man's expression changed slightly, as if the current situation was somewhat different.

"What... happened?"

Zoira was excited, but Morton, who was behind her, could see it clearly.

The revival of the Battle Armor Spirit did not occur immediately after Zoira took the first step forward, but rather a second or two later.

The old knight remembered the changes in the spirit of the armor; it hadn't awakened, but rather been triggered by someone else.

The last time I aroused the spirit of the battle armor was three years ago, when I was drawn to a young paladin named "Fao".

However, after attracting the attention of the War Armor Spirit, the young man did not attempt to establish a deeper connection with it.

Fao believed that his strength was still too weak. If he accepted the protection of the battle armor, he would no longer have the sense of crisis between life and death, and it would be difficult for his strength to improve significantly.

In the end, he gave up this rare opportunity and chose to continue honing his skills, waiting to try again when he was strong enough in the future.

Morton strongly agrees with Faio's views; he held similar ideas when he was younger, but he was more extreme—choosing the most dangerous style of play.

Morton doesn't wear armor; he doesn't even wear leather armor, let alone heavy armor.

It's a desperate fighting style that trades blows for blows and blood.

Perhaps because of this bad habit of his, the spirit of the armor didn't have any particular interest in him.

I don't resist it, but I don't like it either.

But now, the Angel Armor suddenly reacted with even greater excitement than when it encountered Faol before.

Buzz!
In the center of the stone chamber, the battle armor was trembling violently, and the aura emanating from its body was gradually changing.

double?
No, the intensity of this reaction is probably more than ten times greater!

Morton pondered, wondering what kind of person could provoke such a strong reaction from the battle armor.

"What on earth is this..."

A bold idea suddenly flashed through his mind.

Could it be that Fao's strength has increased to the legendary level?

Zoira, who was ahead, waited for a while, but couldn't hold on any longer. She excitedly stood up and wanted to get closer.

"Lord War Armor, I... um!?"

As a result, he was bounced back by a force as soon as he took a step, and staggered back several steps before stopping in front of Morton.

"This is……"

At this moment, Zoira also realized that something was wrong; the situation seemed to be different from what she had imagined.

Could it be that the person the spirit of the battle armor is waiting for isn't me?
"It's you!?"

Zoira turned around abruptly and looked at the silent old knight, but was ignored.

At that moment, the old knight turned his head to look at the entrance to the stone chamber.

Noticing Zoira's gaze, he asked in a deep voice, "Child, did you hear that?"

"What did you hear? I didn't hear anything... huh?"

Zoira's expression changed as she heard the faint sound: "That's...footsteps? Someone's coming?"

Upon hearing this answer, Morton's expression didn't soften at all; instead, it became even more tense.

Yes, someone really did come.

There's nothing substantial about this; it's not something exclusive to the two of them. Others are also qualified to come.

The problem is... although Morton heard footsteps approaching, he strangely couldn't sense any presence.

An unknown entity is slowly approaching.

If Zoira hadn't also heard the sound, he would have even wondered if he was hallucinating.

Moreover, as the footsteps drew closer, Morton grew increasingly uneasy, his muscles gradually tensing.

His wounds began to throb, an instinctive warning he had developed through years of fighting.

We cannot determine whether the other party is friend or foe, but one thing is certain... the other party must be extremely dangerous!

The opponent is definitely a legendary level expert.

Moreover, it's not just any ordinary legend!

Although Morton only possesses high-level strength on paper, his extensive experience has earned him invitations to join legendary squads on more than one occasion, where he has defeated several legendary-level enemies.

He has witnessed quite a few legends in his life.

This unknown entity is probably one of the most dangerous in all of the legends.

An idea flashed through Morton's mind.

"This feeling... could it be an Ascended One?"

After a moment's thought, Morton slowly nodded.

Yes, that's probably true.

Of all the legends he had ever witnessed in his life, only one legendary mage who had undergone an ascension ceremony could exert such pressure on him.

Although Zoira did not feel a strong sense of crisis, Morton's silence made her nervous, and she subconsciously put her hand on the hilt of the sword at her waist.

The two men stood guard on either side of the stone chamber's entrance, watching intently.

However, although the two were nervous, they weren't really worried.

Don't forget, this is the Misty Monastery; the visitors are most likely friends, not enemies.

"..."

Even though they knew it in their hearts and felt the footsteps becoming clearer, the pressure on them was getting greater and greater.

Da da da……

Without them realizing it, they seemed to hear a strong, powerful beating in their ears—it was their own heartbeat.

The sound of their heartbeats seemed to gradually overlap with the sound of their footsteps, each step seeming to pound on their hearts.

At this moment, the different reactions of the two paladins revealed their different personalities.

Zoira's grip on the sword hilt tightened, but her expression grew calmer.

Although Morton's heartbeat slowed down, his expression became more ferocious, and his blinded left eye began to gleam.

Da da da... da.

As they waited anxiously, footsteps stopped at the door, and the person outside politely knocked lightly.

Boom, boom.

Two knocks, as if striking the heart, caused the atmosphere inside the stone chamber to freeze completely.

After receiving no response, the person outside didn't speak, but slowly pushed open the door. Creak…

But as the door slowly opened, the first to react in the entire stone chamber were not Morton and Zoira.

The first to react and the one that reacted most intensely... was the angelic battle armor in the center of the stone chamber!
hum! ! !
The angelic armor that had previously shown little interest in the two paladins suddenly flew up from the stone platform and rushed towards the figure that pushed open the door.

The armored warrior moved with incredible speed and arrived so suddenly that it startled the person who entered.

"Huh? What?"

Without a second thought, the newcomer raised his hand and slapped the helmet of the warrior's armor hard.

Whoosh—bang!

"Sneak attack?"

With an uncertain grumble, the angelic battle armor flew backward at a speed even faster than it had charged forward.

Whoosh—Bang!

To Zoira's astonishment, the battle armor she had longed for was casually slapped away by the unfamiliar boy, crashing heavily against the wall and scattering into pieces on the ground.

???

Zoira could no longer maintain her tense expression and opened her mouth wide.

……ah?

At that moment, she didn't even have time to ask who the person was.
She just stared intently at the angelic armor scattered on the ground, still trembling as it tried to piece itself back together and rush forward.

Is this...right?
She was like a simp watching his beloved goddess, who usually ignored him, throw herself into someone else's arms, only to be rejected and pushed away, falling into a puddle.

For a moment, I didn't know whether I should be sad or happy.

The good news is that others don't even notice his goddess.

The sad thing is that even if others don't like him, the goddess doesn't like him, her simp.

"Trying to ambush me?"

After Herbert entered and repelled the attackers, he shook his hand and snorted, "Go back and practice some more."

He glanced at the scattered angel armor on the ground and curled his lip.

That's it?

This thing doesn't look like anything good.
At Ophidia's urging, Herbert finally accepted the task of taking a trip to the Church of the Sun.

He then decisively went to ask Bishop Rustnail for more details, striving to do everything perfectly.

Since things have come to this, let's go for it.

Since there's no way to escape it, we can only enjoy it.

Anyway, Nenasha had already guaranteed that it wouldn't be discovered, and even if something went wrong, it wouldn't be his fault.

As long as the biggest secret remains hidden, this trip will be beneficial and harmless.

Anyway, Herbert was just there to lend a hand this time, not to actually act as a thug.

As long as he keeps a low profile and doesn't attract the attention of the Church of Lust, he probably won't encounter any major problems.

Hmm... I guess so.

Although Herbert had a vague feeling that things might not go as he hoped, he decided to pretend he hadn't sensed anything.

After inquiring with the Rusty Nail Bishop, Herbert leisurely arrived at the stone chamber, intending to take the Angel Armor with him.

As soon as he entered the door, he was ambushed!
Although she quickly realized that the "assassin" was actually the armor she was about to wear, Herbert couldn't help but shake her head, thinking to herself, "Indeed, those who do many evil deeds will surely be punished... No! Since ancient times, beautiful women have often had tragic fates, uh, no, that's not right either!"

"Ahem, there are always treacherous subjects trying to harm me."

Herbert mentally grumbled to himself, then looked up at the other two people in the stone chamber.

His gaze swept over the young female knight before shifting to the one-eyed old knight.

Although the knight before her was only of high-level strength, Herbert felt that he was no less powerful than a typical legend.

The two looked at each other, but neither spoke first.

Morton remained alert, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly at his waist, his right eye fixed on Herbert's right hand.

"Sir, you... oh?"

Herbert was about to greet him, but seeing the old knight's appearance, his brow suddenly furrowed slightly, and he realized something.

I feel like I'm seeing a volcano about to erupt, suppressed for many years, just waiting for the right moment to burst.

A moment later, I saw a large, decaying, and broken tree, struggling to grow a new bud from the broken section.

It is destruction, or it is rebirth.

Morton is waiting for an opportunity.

"...Hehe, sure."

Herbert smiled slightly, asked nothing, and simply nodded to Morton, saying with a light laugh, "If you want, you can try it. I wouldn't mind."

Return the peach.

The monastery had always been kind to Herbert, and he wanted to repay that kindness.

Without needing to ask for reasons or meet any conditions, Herbert didn't mind helping his fellow countrymen in the monastery.

If I am the opportunity for you to advance, then come on.

"call!"

Herbert's permission was like a shot in the arm for Morton; he breathed a sigh of relief and nodded emphatically.

The old knight drew his longsword, his voice deep and slightly excited as he said, "Thank you for your leniency! Please forgive my rudeness!"

Morton took a deep breath and suddenly opened his left eye wide.

"what!"

With a low growl, his exposed skin began to turn red rapidly, and fine beads of blood seeped from the wounds, large and small.

dong dong!

My heart was pounding, and my body temperature was rising.

His aura also surged rapidly, soon approaching that of an ordinary legend.

Morton needs to get into his best form and is trying to find an opportunity to advance!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..."

Just before Morton concentrated all his strength to unleash his first sword strike, the armor that had been falling apart suddenly floated up and automatically blocked Herbert's path.

Click, click, click!

The entire suit of armor was quickly assembled, and like an empty shell of an angel, it stood faithfully in front of Herbert.

Divine artifact protects its master!

then……

"Tsk! Stop messing around, get out of the way!" Herbert clicked his tongue in annoyance, then slapped him away.

What are you trying to do by blocking my way at this moment?
Honestly, they have absolutely no sense of propriety.

Can't you see I'm helping someone break through?

The armor, which automatically protected its master, never expected to be ambushed by the person it was protecting, and its defenses were instantly breached.

The angelic battle armor, still glistening, was once again shattered by Herbert's palm strike, scattering across the ground.

Wow...

Zoira stared blankly at the scene, unsure of what expression to make.

"Ah this..."

Even though Zoira is a seasoned "simp," and even though she has longed for these angelic battle armors since childhood.

But after seeing this scene, she still had deep doubts.

What have I been persisting for all these years?
Was my own effort... really worthwhile?
Also, is that angelic battle armor really that important?

Have I made a mistake by spending most of my energy on this?
Herbert never expected that simply slapping him twice would dispel the illusions of his goddess from a "veteran simp".

Indeed, classical mechanics remains classic.

The weapon of criticism can never compare to the criticism of weapons.

Without outside interference, Morton was able to get into top form.

Just as Herbert finished slapping the armor and put his hand down, he seized the opportunity and launched an attack in an instant.

Hold your breath, concentrate... and strike!
whoosh-

He unleashed tremendous power in an instant.

Morton gathered all the memories of his two hundred years of life's trials, the pain and anger he had endured, and the insights he had gained over the years into one point.

An astonishing, volcanic eruption of flames burst forth from the decaying body.

His arm lashed out like a whip.

The sword blade sliced ​​through the stone chamber in a crescent shape before crashing down on the boy before it.

He had been in this stone chamber for too long and was unaware of Herbert's identity or his true strength.

However, he had an inexplicable confidence in Herbert.

The young man before me—no, this legendary powerhouse, this powerful ascendant—is absolutely capable of withstanding it.

And the result was exactly as he had predicted.

Morton had done everything he could, condensing all his life's knowledge into this one sword strike.

However, this sword strike, which embodied his life's work, was effortlessly blocked by Herbert—with just two fingers.

Ding.

Herbert easily caught the old knight's sword blade with two fingers together.

The entire sequence of movements was executed with effortless grace, devoid of any trace of ostentation, yet it completely neutralized this legendary sword strike.

After his sword strike was blocked, Morton froze on the spot, not daring to strike again.

He simply stared blankly at Herbert's fingertips, as if there were endless mysteries between the two fingers.

Herbert gently released his fingertips and asked the still dazed old knight, "Now, do you understand?"

Have you found that feeling you've been searching for?

The gentle words jolted Morton awake; he shook his head violently and nodded emphatically.

"Found it...I found it!"

Morton thanked Herbert repeatedly, saying excitedly, "Thank you for your guidance! Thanks to your help, I think I've finally got it."

After witnessing true power, he felt that the barrier that had troubled him for a hundred years had finally broken through a crack.

For a moment, his eyes even welled up with tears.

For many years, he has refused to treat his wounds, partly to stay vigilant.

On the other hand, isn't it also a form of self-abandonment after all hope of advancement has been lost?
And now, he has finally found his way forward again.

"Thanks to your help, sir, thank you..."

“It’s nothing, no need to thank me. This is not my achievement, but your own hard work. I didn’t actually do anything.” Herbert shook his head gently.

Herbert's statement wasn't just modesty; he genuinely felt he hadn't done anything.

The one who truly broke through the bottleneck with that sword strike just now wasn't Herbert, but Morton himself.

Herbert did not know Morton, did not know his name, and did not know his background.

All he did was act as a target in front of this volcano that was about to erupt.

"...You don't need to be modest."

Morton slowly shook his head; he didn't believe Herbert had done nothing.

He had encountered many powerful figures, and the monastery was full of legends, but none of them could give him that feeling.

"Hehe, let's just say that's how it is, if thinking about it that way makes you feel better."

Neither of them could convince the other in a short time, so they tacitly skipped the topic.

Just then, the female knight who had been silent for a long time finally spoke up: "Um..."

Morton was startled; he suddenly realized something.

Herbert's arrival was clearly for the battle armor, which is exactly what Zoira had been hoping for.

not good!

Young knights always have their own temper.

They are upright and have their own principles.

But he is also combative, unwilling to admit defeat, and firmly believes that he is the true chosen one.

Just as the old knight was about to stop the young knight from acting impulsively... Zoira rushed excitedly to Herbert's side first.

“Child, don’t be rude! You… um?” Morton called out hastily, then his expression froze.

Because in his sight, Zoira did not do anything unreasonable; on the contrary, she behaved very politely.

They were even a little too polite.

The female knight bowed deeply to Herbert and said gratefully, "Your Excellency, thank you for your guidance. I know I was wrong."

"I shouldn't have wasted my energy on battle armor!"

Herbert, whom she was grateful to, looked completely bewildered.

???

Herbert: I don't understand! (Fenghua accent)

The old knight was grateful to him, and he could understand that to some extent.

And who are you?

I didn't give you any guidance!

However, this unexpected little situation was no challenge for Herbert.

"Hmm? Hmm, oh, oh."

He paused for only a second, then smiled and nodded, saying softly, "Hehe, this is all your own achievement, it has nothing to do with me."

It really has nothing to do with me!
……

……

The glorious holy city of Solantis.

"Your Holiness, we recently received a report that someone has seen that [lady] again."

Upon hearing the report, the Sun Pope slowly opened his eyes, frowned, and said in a deep voice:

"She's appeared again?"

(End of this chapter)