"This is..."
When Noah woke up, he immediately sensed the difference.
That feeling-being wrapped in light-was something he had never experienced before.
It was so clear that, for a moment, he wondered if he had become a messenger of light.
His guess was correct.
When he cast a spell to observe his changes, he froze.
He had been thinking about how to push the power of Light to its limit.
How to make his form as compatible with it as possible.
He succeeded.
But he never expected this.
In the mirror-like magic before him, he saw silver hair, a white robe, and eyes radiating golden light.
Except for his left eye.
That one was still red.
Still bleeding.
And behind him-
A pair of pale golden wings.
No matter how he looked at it, the scene was bizarre.
That wasn't even the worst part.
The worst part was his face.
The lines were far too soft.
Soft enough to give him a very bad feeling.
Paired with the white hair, Noah almost instinctively looked down toward his crotch.
He stopped himself.
Barely.
His expression twisted.
He had mocked angels plenty of times in the System space.
Genderless birdmen.
Used them as punchlines.
"I'm not your guardian angel."
And now?
He'd joined them?
Wasn't this just slapping himself in the face?
"System..." Noah ground his teeth. "My... my gender is still intact, right?"
The words came out stiff.
Yet staring at his reflection, he suddenly realized-
He looked... beautiful?
Noah shook his head violently.
"And is this really what Light looks like?" he continued. "I remember it never looked like this. Even the Naaru don't look human. I'd rather look like them."
He hadn't cursed in a long time.
As a mage respected by most people he met, he cared about appearances.
But right now, he didn't care.
Between becoming an angel and questioning his gender, he was on the verge of collapse.
"This was your own choice," the System replied calmly. "It has nothing to do with me."
"As for your gender, don't worry. You know how angels work. That aspect is entirely up to you."
"That's good," Noah finally exhaled.
Then he paused.
"...Wait. What do you mean my choice? This birdman look was my choice?"
"Correct. I must say, your choice was quite suitable. The Light has many expressions. The Naaru themselves are essentially formless. This form fits both you and the power. This outcome is yours, not mine."
"...."
Noah wanted to say something.
Anything.
He had thought of angels, briefly.
Every story ever made them messengers of Light.
But he never wanted to be one.
Especially after killing so many of them in the System space.
Even if he'd died just as many times.
Dying that often built grudges.
He sighed.
Looking at his increasingly flawless reflection, he felt a wave of disgust.
With a flick of his hand, the mirror vanished.
He wiped the blood from his left eye and tried to turn the state off.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Panic crept in.
He did not want to walk around like this.
"System," he asked internally, "what's going on? Why can't I turn this off?"
"Because you haven't fully mastered it," the System answered. "You must wait for the power to dissipate. During this period, I will record and observe its stability before helping you seal it into your eye."
"...I have to be observed," Noah sighed.
"I get it. I'll cooperate. But do I still have to pluck my eye out for the seal?"
"Unknown. We'll see. I will assist you."
The System paused.
"Also, stop thinking about removing your eye. Look at it. Your magic numbed the pain, but your condition is not good."
"My left eye?" Noah blinked.
He hadn't felt anything.
But as he focused, he realized the blood he'd wiped away was flowing again.
He went silent.
A weeping angel might look tragic and beautiful.
But he was a man.
He had no intention of tearing out his own eye.
That was too much.
He hurriedly cast healing spells and hoped the Light's influence would fade quickly.
But waiting wasn't his style.
Since he was stuck like this, he might as well test it.
Even if he never used this Holy Mode again, understanding it would help his future Domain.
With some awkward effort, Noah controlled the wings and flew out.
The forest around Karazhan had changed completely.
As if struck by a cataclysm.
Giant trees were withered, leaving only dead trunks and crows.
Noah's sudden appearance was like dawn descending on the land.
Unfortunately, he wasn't a real angel.
He lacked compassion.
Taking a breath, Noah began experimenting.
Noah wasn't Alonsus Faol.
Faol wielded the Light with mercy and reverence.
Before the orc invasion, he never even considered using it as a weapon.
Noah was different.
He knew Paladins.
He knew their skills.
But he didn't want to be a healer.
He wanted to be something else.
A Holy Mage.
He hated being a warrior.
He hated being a tank.
"The Light isn't as direct as other elements," Noah muttered, rubbing his chin.
"But it can still carry mana and elemental traits."
The golden glow around him dimmed as he converted it into pure mana.
It wasn't easy.
But as a Ninth Rank mage, his control was sufficient.
Soon, the mana stabilized into a familiar pale gold.
The difference was the aura.
Holy.
Under his control, a golden rune formed before him, spreading a sacred presence.
Below him, the dead earth responded.
Green shoots pierced the mud.
Life spread through the gloom.
Noah didn't notice.
His focus was entirely on the rune.
After some time, his aura stilled.
A massive golden sword pierced the clouds.
Its descent wasn't violent.
It sounded like a hymn echoing through Duskwood.
The sword brought life to the dull forest.
Despite its lethal intent, its holiness was undeniable.
When it struck the earth, golden light exploded outward, tearing through the darkness.
The destruction was catastrophic.
Yet Noah felt something else.
A sense of sanctity.
As if he were cleansing evil.
"This feeling..."
When it ended, he could no longer maintain the state.
The wings vanished.
The light faded.
Noah returned to being an ordinary mage.
He stood there, dazed.
He hadn't expected the Holy Light to grant this much power.
It far exceeded his imagination.
The last time he'd felt something like this was when he became Deathwing and erased the Chitauri over New York.
That memory-spreading darkness and annihilation-was unforgettable.
This time was the opposite.
A sensation of life.
Of salvation.
This was the Light.
This was high-level holy power.
"This feeling really is..." Noah rubbed his eyes.
They had stopped bleeding.
"...holy enough."
"No wonder the Light gains followers so easily. It's terrifyingly infectious."
"Your use of the power was appropriate," the System said. "Your body adapted well. Most importantly, you carry its opposite within you. You are remarkable, Noah."
"I don't hear praise from you often," Noah smiled faintly.
His body felt heavy.
Exhausted.
But he straightened himself.
"How's the recording?"
"Complete. The mode is stable."
"Then," Noah said, "can I go back?"
"Anytime."