Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The volcanic stone walls of the central palace didn’t just contain the heat of the canyon; they seemed to radiate the sheer, suffocating pressure of its master.

Inside the grand, obsidian-carved office at the peak of Tempest City, Tiger Lord Manuses sat behind a massive desk fashioned from a dark mahogany tree.

He was a mountain of a fey-beast, his gilded armor reflecting the dim, amber glow of the lava troughs running along the perimeter of the room.

A mighty cultivator with a thick, battle-scarred tail lazily lashed against the stone floor, the only movement from an apex predator whose name alone silenced Orc warlords.

Kneeling before the petrified mahogany desk was a high-ranking Hyena-kin captain, his posture trembling so violently that his iron greaves rattled against the floor.

”R-Report again,” Manuses spoke, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that vibrated through the stone foundations. He didn’t raise his eyes from the tactical map laid out before him. ”And speak carefully. My patience has already worn thin tonight.”

”M-My Lord! The lowest slave sector... the entire Frog-kin pen has been completely compromised!” the captain stuttered, wiping a cold sweat from his snout. ”Every single one of the amphibious beastmen has escaped into the lower trenches.”

He gulped hard ”The iron gates weren’t smashed, and the ward-locks weren’t broken. The chains simply... fell apart. It’s as if a ghost walked through the rock walls and dissolved the iron.”

Manuses finally looked up.

His slit-pupil amber eyes flared with a sudden, lethal light. ”A ghost? You dare bring me campfire bedtime stories while six hundred pieces of valuable commodity walk out of my pens?”

”T-That’s not all, Lord Manuses!” the Hyena captain cried out, bowing his head flat against the stone.

”As the guards mobilized to contain the tunnels, someone systematically ambushed our outer sentry posts. Three elite Orc captains and an Ogre lieutenant were found dead in the eastern alleyways. Their throats were slit with unnatural precision, and their mana cores were ripped clean from their chests!”

Thud.

Manuses slammed his massive, fur-covered fist onto the mahogany desk, creating a hairline fracture that snaked across the wooden table.

The sheer kinetic shockwave forced the kneeling captain backward.

”Insolent savages,” Manuses growled, his fangs baring in a silhouette of pure, unadulterated malice. ”They dare play games in my city? They want to create a chaotic screen to sneak those slaves out of the city gates.”

He leaned forward, his voice dropping into a chilling, absolute command. ”Deploy the entire Vanguard. Issue a total lockdown of Tempest City immediately.” He laid back.

”Seal the grand iron gates, close off every subterranean pipe, and bottleneck every major thoroughfare between the lower rings and the upper terraces. If a single blade of grass tries to leave this canyon, cut it down. Find whoever is pulling these strings from the dark and bring me their head.”

”A-At once, My Lord!” The Hyena captain scrambled to his feet, practically tripping over his own cloak as he rushed out of the office to fulfill the supreme decree.

As the heavy iron doors slammed shut, leaving the office in a tense, simmering silence, a dark corner of the room seemed to warp.

A massive, heavy set of footsteps echoed from the shadows behind a velvet tapestry.

The tapestry slid aside, revealing a towering, rock-skinned Troll messenger. He wore the dark, ceremonial bone-mail of the inner sanctums—a direct representative of the Troll King’s bloodline.

A Troll priest!

A cultivator of the Martial Master Realm.

”A minor rodent infestation, Tiger Lord?” the Troll priest rasped, his voice sounding like two boulders grinding together. He walked forward without an ounce of the fear the previous subject had shown, stopping just before the petrified mahogany desk.

”The rodents will be crushed shortly,” Manuses replied coldly, leaning back into his obsidian throne, his slit-pupils locking onto the messenger. ”Speak, Troll. Why have you crawled out of Norona City to visit my office under the cover of a lockdown?”

The priest Troll let out a harsh, gravelly chuckle, leaning his long, thick arms over the desk. ”The Troll King is unconcerned with a few missing C-class Frog-kin. We are here to discuss a far more pressing, holy matter.”

He paused. ”The celestial alignments are shifting, and the ritual is almost ready. It is time to gather the next grand wave of sacrifices.”

Manuses’s eyes narrowed slightly. ”The sacrifices for the god your coalition serve.”

”Yes,” the Troll priest nodded, his yellow eyes gleaming with a fanatical, twisted devotion. ”Our master demands pure, untainted beastmen souls to fuel the upcoming convergence.” His eyes narrowed.

”You can take their mana cores” he added.

”The independent nomadic tribes in the wastes are drying up, and the Great Luna Pack vanished into the Hudeii wastelands before our hunters could harvest them. The King needs you to expand the parameters.”

The Troll priest tapped his clawed finger onto the tactical map of the desert. ”We need thousands of heads this time, Manuses. Look to the lower rings of your own city. The independent Sheep-kin, the weak-blooded Wolf-kin, the Rabbit-kin... they are already here, fattened and ready for the slaughter. Deliver them to Norona, and the Troll King will ensure your Volcanic Palace receives the divine blessing promised by our deity.”

Tiger Lord Manuses stared at the Troll for a long, heavy moment.

He had no love for the true gods the Trolls worshipped, but he understood the cold currency of power.

If sacrificing the weaker, groveling beastmen of the lower slums bought him the supremacy to dominate the remaining three great desert cities, he would burn them all without a second thought..

”The lockdown is already in effect,” Manuses spoke smoothly, his lips curling into a dark, ruthless grin as his tail stilled. ”The outer gates are sealed. The weaker races have nowhere left to run. Tell your King that the sacrifices will be gathered... but he better ensure his god fulfills his end of the bargain.”

”There’s no need to fret, Lord Manuses,” the Troll chuckled, ”My god will never fail us. It’s you that I hope keeps to his end of the bargain.”

The moment the Troll exited the office, ”Those fuckers!” Lord Manuses growled, he slammed his fist on the wooden desk.

He gently rose from his seat, staring at the world beyond his office, the horizon that stretched toward the endless expanse.

”If only we were a bit stronger,” he sighed deeply, ”I wouldn’t have fallen under the oppression of that Troll King.”

”Although I’m against killing my own people, I have no other choice than to stain my hands with blood.” The Tiger Lord clenched his fist.

Unbeknownst to him, a sun-fly sat at the edge of the window. Its eyes glued to the terrifying Lord of the Sun Tiger-Men.

Roy was watching everything since the very beginning.