Starting Out As The God of Beasts

A sharp, high-pitched melody suddenly sliced through the chaotic din of roaring beasts, clashing steel, and shattering ice.

Amidst the chaos ensured by the arrival of the frost undead mummies. The Troll Generals mobilized their troops.

In a bid to control the battlefield,

Two towering Troll Generals—their massive bodies radiating a chaotic, highly unstable aura of pure permafrost—charged blindly through the steam.

These were the remnants of Norona’s leadership, forcefully evolved by the Troll King to match the tier of a Martial General.

Because their ascension was unnatural, they possessed no refined martial skills, no complex techniques, and no strategic finesse.

Instead, they were driven by pure, unadulterated brute frost strength.

Their fists and heavy stone clubs were coated in jagged, kinetic sheets of ice capable of shattering iron walls through raw physical momentum alone.

But their opponent was a true monster of the wild.

”Is this all the Norona has left?!” Duke Brenda bared her razor-sharp fangs, her eyes burning with a manic, blood-gold light.

Brenda did not just tap into her power; she fully unleashed her newly evolved Spectral Tyrant Beast-King Hyena bloodline.

A terrifying, ethereal phantom of a demonic, multi-eyed hyena materialized behind her, its jaws snapping with a ghostly crimson energy that caused the very gravity in the area to distort.

The mere presence of her Tyrant bloodline sent a wave of primal, biological terror echoing across the battlefield.

Simultaneously, she activated her apex class skill:

Beast Dominator.

With a resonant, deep-throated howl that shook the foundations of the melting ruins, Brenda took absolute, psychic command of the battlefield’s fauna.

Three massive, tusked behemoths and a pair of armored drakes—all Beast-stage F-class Abominations that had survived the rampage—instantly fell under her complete thrall.

Their eyes turned a matching, blood-gold hue.

”Tear them to pieces!” Brenda cackled.

Under her mental command, the Beast-stage F-class Abominations launched a coordinated, brutal assault.

A tusked behemoth rammed its colossal skull directly into the chest of the first Troll General, the kinetic impact shattering his outer frost armor and forcing him backward into the stone rubble.

Simultaneously, the armored winged abominations swarmed the second Troll General, their dripping, venomous mandibles clamping onto his massive arms.

Pinning him in place despite his furious, sub-zero roars of brute strength.

With both targets perfectly locked down and overwhelmed by her beast army, Brenda surged forward like a localized hurricane.

She leaped high into the air, the massive spectral hyena behind her mimicking her movement.

Wielding her massive Varanium executioner’s axe with terrifying velocity, she channeled the full weight of her Spectral Tyrant mana into the blade.

SLASH—!!!

In a single, fluid, and devastating horizontal arc, she cut them down.

The ultra-dense Varanium steel cleaved clean through the first Troll General’s throat and split the second brute’s torso completely in half, bypassing their dense permafrost skin like hot iron through snow.

As the two artificially evolved giants crashed into the boiling mud, their unstable cores violently detonating into useless blue mist.

Brenda landed amidst the gore, letting out a wild, victorious laugh that asserted her absolute dominance over the western ruins.

Then she heard it.

The signal!

It was the piercing sound of a specialized high frequency flute, its resonance carrying across the entire battlefield with absolute urgency.

”Finally, it’s time” Brenda chuckled.

Every beastman soldier, from the frontline Rhino-kin to the elite Leopard-kin vanguards, froze for a fraction of a second.

They recognized that specific frequency.

It was the supreme evacuation signal: The Dukes are about to make their move.

The call to retreat!

Without a single moment of hesitation, the absolute discipline of the Holy Kingdom of Varania manifested.

”Fall back! I repeat fall back!”

”The Dukes are about to attack.....!!!”

”Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!”

”If you don’t want to die, fall back!!”

Turning on their heels, the hundreds of armored beastmen hurriedly fled from the crumbling gates of Norona City.

They scrambled backward, scaling the rocky ridges and retreating alongside the F-class Abominations.

Pulling back hundreds of kilometers away into the safe zones of the western region, leaving the smoking, ruined city behind.

As the last of the beastmen vacated the perimeter, a lone, hunched figure slowly walked onto a massive cliff overlooking the city.

It was High Priest Croak.

The Head of the Church.

The Duke of the House of Mydar stood perfectly still, his large, hollow eyes glowing with a terrifying, luminescent emerald light.

”What a beautiful sight this is” he chuckled, ”Norona is about to fall...”

”Praise be to the God of Beast” his voice boomed.

He lifted his liquid jade staff, driving it violently into the earth.

CRACK—!!!

The very fabric of reality fractured.

Massive, jagged space rifts tore open across the sky above Norona City, rippling with unstable mana fluctuations.

What was unleashed next was nothing short of a biblical catastrophe.

A terrifying, apocalyptic sea—materialized directly from the conceptual domain of the Lord of the Sea—poured out of the rifts.

Millions of tons of hyper-pressurized, roaring water plummeted onto the city, instantly transforming the warzone into a drowning vortex.

The massive tidal waves swept through the streets with absolute fury, demolishing stone barracks, tearing down dark obsidian pillars, and completely drowning every living Orc, Troll, and Goblin left behind.

The thousands of undead frost mummies were violently swept away, caught in the crushing, hydraulic pressure of the deep sea.

Yet, amidst the absolute aquatic devastation, the inner sanctum remained unyielding.

High atop the palace grounds, the grand metallic spires of the Grand Sanctum and the dark, monolithic towers of the ritual site stood tall, completely untouched by the roaring rapids.

Sitted on his throne, the Troll King Razarak had surged to his feet, his eyes bloodshot as he activated his ultimate skill.

Frozen Death Star!

BOOM!

Relying on his raw Martial Lord cultivation, a series of massive, towering ice walls—hundreds of meters thick—erupted from the earth, forming a colossal, jagged barrier around the palace and the holy ritual grounds.

The furious waves crashed against the glacial barrier with a deafening roar, but the ice did not crack.

Razarak slammed both of his massive, four-meter hands directly onto the frozen floor, unleashing the absolute entirety of his remaining mana.

FROOOOOZE—!!!

In a single, terrifying instant, a blinding flash of sub-zero energy shot outward from the palace.

The localized temperature dropped beyond mortal limits.

The roaring, apocalyptic sea that had been violently demolishing Norona City was instantaneously locked in place, frozen solid into a massive, glittering ocean of permafrost.

The waves were captured mid-crash, turned into a silent, frozen wasteland of jagged ice statues that stretched as far as the eye could see.