Chapter 162: Kelen’s gifted body - “Wait, I’m Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I’m a Guy!” - NovelsTime

“Wait, I’m Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I’m a Guy!”

Chapter 162: Kelen’s gifted body

Author: EverTruth727
updatedAt: 2025-09-21

Silence settled in, clinging like a damp cloth.

The dark alley turned sour, thick with the sharp stench of blood.

It soaked into the air, the walls, even the stones beneath their feet.

The lone knight, despite having both arms severed, was still breathing.

Pain? 

Fleeting.

His resolve, on the other hand, was solid, like iron hammered cold.

From behind the visor of his helmet, his eyes were terrifyingly calm, even with the immense pain. 

Cool

Click...

A wet sound slipped from his lips as blood welled up in his mouth.

He let out a groan, his jaw clenching hard to keep it from spilling.

It was like holding back a flood with nothing but grit and locked teeth.

Not long after, the clack of footsteps echoed faintly at the alley's mouth. 

Another knight appeared, this one still whole, armor unscathed. 

He’d been on patrol nearby and had sprinted over the moment the earlier explosion cracked into the air. 

But the moment the alley's scene unfolded before him, he froze mid-step.

“What in the world...?”

Bodies, no, scraps of them, lay scattered like discarded meat. 

Blood pooled around unrecognizable limbs.

Some corpses bore the look of people, others didn’t. 

Too many teeth. 

Too many joints.

And slumped against the blood-slick wall, still drawing breath, was a figure wrapped in battered armor. 

Not regulation. 

It was similar to his own, but clearly altered. Not a holy knight, that's for certain. 

But this aura, it's familiar. 

“It’s him...?”

The knight strode forward in haste, kneeling beside the wounded man. “Hey! Can you hear me? Are you"

A voice. 

light and unfamiliar, echoed faintly.

The knight didn’t respond. 

His chest rose and fell, slow and obviously strained. 

He was still in this world, just barely.

Then the one kneeling removed his helmet, revealing a face far younger than expected, too young, really.

A girl, but with features matured beyond her years. 

The gift that Harapan gave them... it made them... big, a forced growth despite the age being the opposite. 

Iris.

Without wasting a moment, she carefully reached over and unfastened his helmet.

Kelen.

She didn’t hesitate. 

Her fingers moved fast, digging into her storage pouch and retrieving a slim, glass vial. 

With a quick motion, she uncorked it and tipped the contents into his mouth.

The liquid stung on its way down, he twitched as it hit, but it flowed all the same.

She knew the potion wouldn't do much...

But she wanted to see something, again. 

And then, it began.

Just like the last time, a familiar burst of light wrapped around his entire body. Iris stepped back, eyes wide with disbelief.

“It’s really...”

She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Before her, Kelen’s arms began to regrow.

The open wounds sealed over. 

His chest rose stronger with each breath, and when his eyes finally opened, they were clear. 

Clarity.

He groaned, using the wall to push himself upright. 

Wiped his mouth. 

Glanced at her from the side without saying much.

“We meet again,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Iris replied, swallowing back the words that had nearly come out before.

She flicked her gaze around, spotted his sword lying nearby, and rushed to grab it.

“Here. Don’t lose it.”

Kelen took it from her, gripping it with one newly formed arm, then sheathed it across his back. 

He looked down at himself, testing the motion in his arms and legs, slowly flexing his fingers.

“Another time...” he murmured. “Another loss.”

His voice was low, but Iris caught every syllable. 

She didn’t ask. 

Just gave him a steady look.

“These armor pieces?” she prompted.

"We've met several times in this exact same situation" Kelen interrupted, but seeing her not wanting to pursue it, he corrected his words. 

“Self-customized,” Kelen replied, his tone dry as he glanced at the broken bodies around them. 

“I tinker with forging on the side.”

Iris gestured toward the mangled creatures nearby, knowing that Kelen wouldn't ask, nor would she, “And these?”

“Trap,” he said, simply.

He rotated his wrist, stretching it, testing the joints as the lingering strangeness began to fade. “There was a girl who arrived in the city a few days ago. A child. Couldn’t be older than six.”

He squatted down without warning, sifting through the shredded remains of the dead, fingers digging through flesh like he was looking for something.

One by one... 

“She had no parents. No guardians. No one. So, the obvious solution was to send her to the new orphanage that just opened. The one run by a noble.”

He paused and glanced up at Iris, gaze sharp.

“A native noble.”

Then he turned back to the corpses. “Last night, while hunting nearby... I killed one of these things. A Raksasa.”

Iris blinked. “That’s what they call themselves?”

Kelen gave a small nod. “Yeah. Raksasa.”

"I overheard",

He kept rummaging. “I cut open that filthy corpse and found something. A piece of skin. Still fresh. Still warm..."

"It was the girl’s face.”

The silence stretched.

“I knew then that something was wrong with that orphanage.”

He stood again, holding something in his palm, a strange orb. 

Crystalline, faintly glowing, with dots scattered inside it like stars. 

Without hesitation, he crushed it. 

The orb cracked, then disintegrated into a thin vapor that rose and vanished into the air.

Souls.

He didn’t flinch.

“Tell me something,” he said suddenly, turning to Iris. “According to your faith... is there heaven?”

His voice wasn’t curious. It wasn’t sad. It was hollow. 

No emotion. 

Just a question that scraped past his lips like dust off old metal.

Iris clenched her fists, her chest rising slowly as she replied, “There is. The Mother promised us a land of hope after death.”

Kelen nodded faintly.

“That’s beautiful,” he said.

But his face stayed blank. Not even a hint of warmth behind the words.

He walked off to the side, picked up his helmet, and slid it over his head with a quiet clink.

“Then that must mean there’s hell too.”

Iris blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Y-yes...”

Kelen glanced back at her over his shoulder.

“Then it’s my job,” he said, voice low, “to send these Raksasas to hell.”

"One by one"

And without another word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the alley, leaving Iris behind, frozen, and trying to process the weight of what he’d just said.

Iris watched Kelen’s fading silhouette disappear into the shadows of the alley.

She had been meaning to speak, maybe even extend an invitation to the church, but after everything she’d seen...

“His resolve might line up with ours,” she murmured under her breath, shaking her head as her eyes swept over the blood-soaked wreckage around her, “but his will… it's walking a different path.”

No wonder the casualties had been piling up over the past few days. 

The monsters, these grotesque, unnatural things, were working together now.

Clicking her tongue, Iris raised a hand, a faint glow pulsing between her fingers as she muttered a cleansing incantation.

Magic rippled across the corpses like a thin mist. 

She crouched down, brushing aside blood and grime, and began crushing the soul orbs buried inside their flesh, one after another, sharp cracks echoing softly.

Her gloved hand closed around a strip of leathery flesh. 

Human skin.

She winced.

Even now, she couldn’t come up with a reason why these monsters kept the faces of their prey inside their mouths.

“A trophy?” she whispered, holding the curled flap of skin to the light.

An old, wrinkled face stared back. 

Lifeless, frozen in an expression that looked eerily like longing.

“They came here looking for hope…” Iris whispered, her voice growing quiet. “But died while they were still searching for it.”

She let out a tired sigh. “Now it's just a place of hope… built over a thousand corpses.”

Shaking her head, she stood up and swept her hand outward. 

Flames bloomed from her spell, consuming the remains in a low, controlled burn. 

When it was done, she gathered what evidence she could and turned back, heading toward the church.

And far above, suspended in the sky like a quiet sentinel, Mize observed everything.

She hadn’t intervened. 

Only watched, curious, intrigued… and a little baffled.

“He’s growing faster than expected,” she murmured, her gaze tracing the path of Kalen’s figure as it vanished down a distant alley.

“The gift I gave him, dulled his emotions, made him almost numb… but it gave him power. A body that can’t die. Not easily, at least.”

She didn’t bother pretending there was some noble reason behind it.

She simply didn’t want him to die, out of a whim that was. 

But giving someone a gift with no strings attached?

That felt a bit too generous.

In the end, most of what she did was based on how she felt in the moment.

“It’s a curse and a blessing,” she said with a quiet smile. “I just hope he uses it well.”

In the next blink, her form shimmered, light folding inward, before she reappeared high above the dungeon’s surface. 

Floating at its center, gaze sharp, arms crossed.

Her lips curled up. “Now this is interesting.”

Below her, figures darted through a field of blooming wildflowers, slowly tightening their circle around the tree standing at the center of the glade.

A team of Awakeners, all wearing matching outfits, like a small guild.

"What is this? Mass dating day?"

Mize narrowed her eyes, the glint of amusement dancing behind them.

“So someone finally got bold enough to poke the boss,” she said under her breath. “And here I thought everyone was still too scared.”

She watched as the group crept closer. 

Their movements were careful, Coordinated.

Clearly trained for this.

A makeshift guild, maybe. 

That wouldn’t surprise her. 

For an organization as massive as the Adventurer Guild, it was inevitable that dozens, if not hundreds,nof small splinter groups formed under its banner.

This one looked decent. 

The lead Awakeners were Tier 5s. 

The rest hovered between Tier 4 and Tier 3. She doubted anyone weaker had been brought along, smart move.

Roar!!

The ground trembled. The towering tree in the center gave a violent shudder.

Apparently, the Wooden Guard wasn’t the type to wait for introductions.

Before anyone could even make a move, the thick roots ripped free from the soil. 

Bark splintered, earth cracked, and wind howled in a sudden burst of chaos.

Then, an echo.

Systematic. 

A red glow lit up the sky.

Across the entire dungeon, a voice boomed:

[The Wooden Guard has been awakened!]

[The Wooden Guard has been awakened!]

[The Wooden Guard has been awakened!]

It rang out three times, drilling into every Awakeners' ears. 

Mize chuckled. “Right. I was the one who set that up, wasn’t I?”

In an instant. 

Confusion rippled through the ranks below.

“What the hell’s going on?!”

“Wooden Guard? What Wooden Guard?”

“Did someone just trigger a boss fight?!”

“Shit! Look up! What is that red thing in the sky?!”

“Wait... those rumors about the boss in the middle being real?”

“That old guy wasn’t lying after all, dammit!”

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

The ground shook like thunder.

And then it rose, no longer a tree, but a monster of wood and fury, ten meters tall and oddly buffed for a being made out of wood. 

Bark peeled like armor, muscles flexed beneath layers of hardened timber.

A powerful, suffocating aura spilled out around it, pressing into the bones of everyone nearby like an avalanche.

Its eyes flared with a fiery glow.

Then, It turned its massive head.

And roared.

ROARRRR!!!

The frontmost Awakeners, those Tier 5s, froze for a split second. 

Faces pale, expressions stiff.

“Shit… this aura?!”

“It’s a peak Tier 5!”

“This fight’s not going to be easy.”

But there was no time to hesitate.

The Wooden Guard moved first.

One heavy step forward. Then another.

Its colossal arm rose into the sky, casting a long shadow over the group.

“Attack!!” the commander bellowed.

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

Spells surged out in waves, runes lighting up like constellations, magic circles crackling to life. 

Arrows the size of ballista bolts shot through the air, all aiming for one point.

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

Explosions ripped across the field, smoke and fire crashing against bark and limbs. 

But when the dust cleared, the Wooden Guard was still moving. 

Its foot slammed into the dirt again, and the ground seemed to scream in protest.

“Brace!!”

Too late.

The earth twisted violently, warped and contorted beneath them.

In the next heartbeat, thick roots exploded from below, spearing upward like javelins.

Some of the Awakeners weren’t fast enough. 

They were lifted off the ground, impaled mid-step, their bodies tossed like shredded kites.

The rest scattered, trying to regroup, but the damage had been done. Their formation was in shambles in one attack.

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