Starting Out As The God of Beasts

The thunder of the Troll King’s war horns rolled across the vast, rolling dunes of the Hudeii Desert like a sudden, violent storm, fracturing the tense peace of the entire region.

Deep within the heavily fortified, subterranean fortress of Raksha City, the atmosphere was completely detached from the chaos of the outer world.

Raksha was the most closed-off, isolationist city in the desert, protected by layers of ancient sand-shifting arrays and stone walls that had kept outsiders at bay for generations.

Inside a dimly lit chamber carved from solid bedrock, an elder High Official of Raksha, a Violet Eagle-kin sat behind a low stone desk, methodically reviewing trade ledgers.

The heavy iron doors creaked open, and a panicked scout rushed into the room, dropping heavily onto one knee.

”Elder, a message from the northern borders,” the scout breathed, his skin covered in desert grit. ”Norona City has officially issued a grand declaration of open war. The Troll King is mobilizing his entire army.”

The High Official did not look up immediately.

”Hmmm...Razarak?”

He slowly dipped his iron quill into fresh ink before speaking in a dry, raspy voice. ”The Trolls are always skirmishing. Who did they catch raiding their iron mines this time? Yeren City?”

”No, Elder,” the scout replied, swallowing hard.

”They have declared war upon Tempest City. The report states that an elite northern cell infiltrated the Grand Frost Sanctum, assassinated the primary deep-cover traitor, and completely destroyed a high-tier subterranean garrison.”

The quill stopped.

”Interesting....”

The High Official slowly raised his head, his yellowed eyes narrowing in genuine surprise. ”I thought Tempest City were the dogs of Razarak”

”Has Manuses rebelled?” the Eagle-Kin asked.

”Yes Grand Elder, Tempest City is now under the control of the Church of Varanus” the scout explained.

The Eagle-Kin slowly raised his head, ”Church of Varanus?” he asked.

The scout proceeded to explain everything.

Raksha had always ignored the smaller southern settlements, viewing them as nothing more than unorganized tribal beastmen.

But to hear that this ”Tempest City” had not only survived the northern pressure but had actively breached the Troll King’s inner sanctum to the point of provoking an all-out war changed everything.

”Tempest City...” the elder murmured, a cold, curious glint appearing in his eyes. ”A closed gate cannot ignore a storm of this size.” he sighed deeply.

”Find out who runs that city. I want to know exactly what kind of entity has managed to enrage the Troll King to this extent.”

”Especially the Church, I must know who exactly the God of Beasts is”

***

Meanwhile, inside the grand obsidian council chamber of Yeren City, the air was thick with tension.

The four High Governors of the city sat around a massive, circular table carved from dark basalt, their expressions grim as they stared at a glowing communication rune reflecting the official northern decree.

”This is madness,” Governor Vance growled, slamming his fist onto the table. ”An all-out mobilization by the Trolls means the entire northern trade route will be swallowed by military checkpoints.”

”Our supplies from the iron foundries are already cut off as of this morning.” he slammed his fist on the table.

”The trade routes are the least of our concerns,” Governor Kaelen countered, leaning forward, his brow furrowed in deep calculation.

”Look at the scale of the deployment. The Troll King isn’t sending a border patrol; he is marching his entire army.” he frowned.

”If Tempest City falls within the week, the Trolls will control the entire northern baseline. We will be completely surrounded by their garrisons.”

Governor Sorsha, who had remained silent, finally spoke, her voice carrying the heavy weight of experience.

”We cannot afford to pick a side yet. Norona is a meat grinder, but this Tempest City has shown teeth that no one expected. And besides we are in an alliance with them”

”We must fortify our eastern gates, call in our reserve battalions, and watch the first clash. If Tempest holds the line, we support the north. If they break, we seal our territory and prepare for a siege.”

The council nodded in solemn agreement.

The gears of war were turning, and Yeren City had no choice but to brace for the shockwaves.

Far to the north , inside the central war room of Tempest City, there was no panic.

The strategy had already been drawn, and the trap was quietly being set.

A massive tactical map made of cured leather lay stretched across a heavy oak table, detailed with the topography of the surrounding dense forests and mountain passes.

Lord Manuses stood at the head of the table, his towering frame clad in full, polished battle plate that caught the flickering torchlight.

Beside him stood High Priest Croak, his long ceremonial robes humming with defensive mana arrays, his expression calm and detached.

Also present in the inner circle were Alpha Brenda and Commander Trojan.

Brenda methodically tightened the leather straps of her gauntlets, her sharp eyes burning with anticipation, while Trojan stood with his arms crossed, his heavy broadsword resting against the side of his chair.

”The Mandraxx intelligence has confirmed the movement,” Lord Manuses spoke, his deep, resonant voice echoing off the stone walls.

”According to Master Jarden. The Troll King has taken the bait. His main army will clear the desert border within three days.”

”Our men are already scattered across the forest baseline,” Commander Trojan reported, pointing a clawed finger toward the narrow valley passes on the map.

”I have positioned the first battalion in deep-cover trenches beneath the canopy. The moment their heavy iron boots step into these woods, their movement speed will drop by half due to the rough terrain.”

”We will choke them in the passes.”

”The mana anchors are prepared,” High Priest Croak added, his voice low and steady.

”The defensive boundary of Tempest City will hold against any initial long-range artillery they bring. But we must ensure the vanguard does not overextend.”

”This is not a skirmish; it is a war of attrition.”

Alpha Brenda let out a low, dangerous chuckle, her teeth flashing in the dim light. ”Let them come. The Inquisition Division has been waiting to tear into western steel for months.”

”We will show them that the southern soil belongs entirely to the God of Beasts.” she declared.

”Keep the lines tight,” Manuses commanded, looking at each of his commanders. ”The Apostle has designed our primary defense lines. We execute our offensive plans as well without a single step backward.”

”It doesn’t matter who stands against us. Tempest will destroy them all!”

***

Meanwhile...

Deep within the subterranean bowels of the Grand Frost Sanctum, far beneath the echoing noise of the assembling northern armies, lay the Troll King’s private secret chamber.

The air here was dead silent, freezing, and heavy with the thick, suffocating stench of ancient stagnation.

In the center of the dark stone floor was a wide, circular pool filled with thick, pitch-black water that didn’t reflect the low light of the surrounding torches.

Slowly, the smooth surface of the black water began to ripple.

A massive, towering silhouette broke through the dark liquid.

The Troll King rose from the depths of the pool, standing tall and completely naked in the freezing air.

Thick, viscous black water poured off his heavily muscled, blue-skinned frame, splashing heavily back into the basin.

His physical form had completely changed. A fierce, chilling mana radiated from his very flesh, sending visible waves of frost crawling across the stone floor.

The ambient temperature in the room plummeted past the freezing point, causing the moisture in the air to crystallize into falling snow.

The breakthrough was complete.

After decades of stagnation, Razarak, the King of Trolls has finally ascended.

He had finally shattered his mortal limits and evolved into a true Martial Lord.

An Initial-enlightened stage Martial Lord.

As he stepped out of the pool, his massive feet leaving wet, dark prints on the stone floor, two figures slowly emerged from the deep, pitch-black shadows stretching behind the pillars.

The two human knight priests from the Church of Damascus stepped into the flickering torchlight.

They were completely draped in heavy, polished silver battle armor that gleamed with holy defensive runes, their faces hidden behind stern, T-shaped iron visors.

Heavy crimson capes trailed behind them, sweeping over the frosted floorboards.

As they stepped forward, the air around them distorted slightly under the weight of their presence.

They did not show a hint of fear or hesitation before the monstrous, naked monarch; instead, they stood as absolute equals.

They, too, radiated the thick, suffocating pressure of Martial Lords, their combined auras perfectly balancing the freezing weight of the Troll King’s newly attained power.

”Congratulations, Razarak,” the first knight-priest spoke, his voice carrying a hollow, muffled ring behind his iron visor.

”Despite the interference, everything is going according to plan” the second knight-priest chuckled.

The Troll King cracked his thick neck, a sound like breaking ice echoing through the stone vault as his frost-white eyes locked onto the two humans.

”Nothing can stop the Children of Misfortune.” Razarak declared.

”As the descent of Damascus draws closer, Tempest City will burn before the week ends.”