Starting Out As The God of Beasts

With all gazes fixed upon him, every slight movement Roy made sent a ripple of tension through the subterranean hall.

Whenever he tilted his head, his golden-crimson eyes sweeping across the dark iron cells, the imprisoned beastmen winced in primal fear, hastily averting their eyes and pressing themselves deeper into the cold stone walls.

Roy inhaled deeply, taking in the heavy scent of blood, damp rust, and ancient misery.

Rather than anger, a soft, radiant smile bloomed across his handsome wolf-man features.

The cavernous hallway remained deathly silent, save for the crackle of the wall torches.

Suddenly, Roy’s body flickered.

He raised his right hand, and the very air within the dungeon began to tremble violent violently. In the absolute presence of divinity, all mortal constructs were rendered utterly trivial.

A blinding crimson radiance erupted from Roy’s palm, shimmering like liquid rubies.

With a light, casual wave of his wrist, he shaped his divine essence into dozens of crescent-shaped ethereal blades.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

The crimson blades flashed through the dim light with terrifying, silent precision.

CRACK! BANG!

The heavy iron bars of every single prison cell shattered simultaneously, exploding into harmless metallic dust.

In the very next instant, another wave of divine energy swept over the captives, slicing clean through the thick, spiked manacles and heavy chains that bound their limbs.

The heavy iron links clattered uselessly onto the wet floorboards.

Liberated in a fraction of a second, the beastmen stood completely frozen, staring at Roy in profound, stunned silence.

Minutes passed, yet not a single captive dared to step out of their shattered cages.

He was clearly a beastman like them—carrying the proud features of a wolf-kin—yet deep suspicion and overwhelming doubt flooded their traumatized minds.

How was he standing here deep beneath the Mayor’s palace?

How had he managed to navigate the array of guards and traps to find them?

Was this merely another cruel, sadistic play orchestrated by the cultivators of Kaelos City to break their spirits further before selling them into eternal servitude?

As countless frantic thoughts raced through the minds of the Grey Falcon-Kin and Crimson-Spotted Leopard-Kin, Roy turned his broad back toward them, preparing to step into the dark corridor leading back to the surface.

Before he took a step, his deep, resonant voice echoed through the subterranean hall, carrying a weight that rattled their very souls.

”You have suffered. You have survived,” Roy spoke softly, his tone filled with absolute, unyielding authority. ”Know that this is no ploy laid by the hands of humans, but the divine mercy of our Heavenly Father.”

He paused slightly, his golden-crimson eyes glinting in the dark.

”This is the Father’s liberation. The era of the beastmens’ uprising has finally come.”

The heavy words hung in the air, igniting a tiny, long-extinguished spark of hope within the hearts of the trembling captives.

Roy turned his head over his shoulder, casting one final, piercing look upon the liberated crowd.

”If you choose to dwell in these cages any longer, know that certain death is all that awaits you,” Roy declared coldly.

”For tonight... Kaelos City shall cease to exist on the face of this world. When the sky turns red and the barriers shatter, flee through the eastern gates—or perish along with the ruins of this city.”

Without waiting for their response, Roy’s figure dissolved into a wave of fading crimson mist, vanishing completely into the shadows of the dungeon.

Around the exact same time, within the upper sanctuary of the administrative palace.

The suffocating pressure left behind by the Elder of the Glorious Mythical Sect had finally dissipated, the ancient cultivator having departed moments ago to investigate the outer perimeter of the city on his own terms.

Mayor Henar sat alone behind his massive mahogany desk, his face pale and slick with cold sweat.

He rubbed his temples, staring at the gory crimson stain on the wall where his young messenger had been turned to meatpaste just minutes prior.

TAP! TAP! TAP!

A senior captain of the city guards rushed into the study, throwing himself onto one knee, his armor rattling heavily against the stone floor.

”Mayor Henar!” the captain reported hurriedly, his voice strained with anxiety. ”A secondary report has just come in from the outer perimeter investigation!”

Henar snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot with rage and exhaustion. ”Speak! What else has gone wrong in my city?!”

”My Lord... during the sweep near the noble residential district, our patrol discovered the hidden, mutilated remains of four Martial Warriors buried in a shallow ditch!” the captain explained rapidly. ”And... the bodies were uncovered directly behind the private estate of Chief Strategist Ackher!”

”They were all enlisted candidates for the Glorious Mythical Sect’s discipleship”

BANG!

Mayor Henar slammed his heavy fist onto the desk, splintering the polished wood. ”What did you say?!”

Chief Strategist Ackher was a Peak-Enlightened Martial Master—a cunning, ruthless cultivator who stood on the absolute verge of breaking through into the Martial General realm.

He had long been Henar’s primary political rival, constantly maneuvering in the shadows to usurp the Mayoral seat for himself.

”Four dead Martial Warriors... buried on Ackher’s private grounds...” Henar spat out, his teeth grinding so hard they audibly creaked.

”And they were all candidates?” he bit his lips.

In his paranoid, stress-ridden mind, every chaotic piece of the puzzle instantly clicked together into a grand political conspiracy.

The sudden explosion in the commercial district, the rogue Martial Warrior detonating his core, and now four murdered guards found right at his rival’s doorstep!

”That bastard...” Henar roared, his face contorting into a mask of pure, unbridled fury.

”He orchestrated the entire catastrophe! He deliberately triggered the blast to throw the city garrison into disarray, aiming to weaken my standing before the Sect Elder so he could stage a coup!”

He pointed a trembling, enraged finger at the captain.

”Deploy the elite shadow vanguard immediately!” Mayor Henar thundered, his voice echoing through the corridors.

”Summon Chief Strategist Ackher to the judgement hall at once to answer for his high treason! If he refuses to come quietly... bring me his severed head!”