Starting Out As The God of Beasts

Roy held the parchment steady, his golden-crimson flecked irises gliding across every line of runic text transcribed by Mandraxx’s intelligence division.

The ink was fresh, but the information was ancient—a brutal, terrifyingly clear blueprint of the world beyond the Varanial Region.

The world was vast, far larger than he had initially assumed.

The report detailed the structural makeup of the Ten Continents, divided neatly across the four cardinal points: three in the West, three in the North, two in the East, and two in the South.

Yet, what caught Roy’s immediate interest was not merely the geography, but the fundamental governance of these landmasses.

The Western and Northern Continents operated strictly under the Kingdom System.

Each of the four regions within a continent was a colossal expanse—an area as large as Earth itself.

Within a single region lay a staggering array of power dynamics: 1,000,000 villages, 100,000 major cities, 10,000 small kingdoms, 1,000 super kingdoms, and at the absolute apex, 10 vast Empires.

The Eastern Continents, however, abandoned the concept of thrones and crowns in favor of the Sect System.

Across each Earth-sized region, 1,000,000 towering mountain peaks were occupied by villages and cultivation settlements.

These lands were anchored by 100,000 cities, 10,000 small sects, 1,000 super sects, and 10 primordial Ancient Sects that held absolute domain over the wilderness.

Meanwhile, the Southern Continents adhered entirely to the Clan System.

Bloodline ruled supreme over their Earth-sized regions, which were divided into 1,000,000 villages, 100,000 cities, 10,000 small clans, 1,000 super clans, and 10 supreme Ancient Clans.

Yet, according to Mandraxx’s deepest archives, the Southern Continents were by far the most enigmatic and volatile lands in existence.

Enshrouded in forbidden mists, shadow networks, and ancient curses, they were known across the world as the Dark Continents.

The report also detailed the precise martial hierarchy required to rule these territories.

A mere village was governed by a Martial Warrior.

A city required the iron hand of a Martial General.

A small kingdom, small sect, or small clan was led by a Martial Lord—a powerhouse on par with Duke Attaris Etho.

Super kingdoms, super sects, and super clans were ruled by terrifying Martial Emperors.

And at the pinnacle of mortal power, the 10 Empires of the West and North, alongside the Ancient Sects of the East and Ancient Clans of the South, were commanded by Martial Demigods—beings who stood at the absolute precipice of divine ascension.

Roy’s eyes drifted toward the northern section of the map, lingering on the Kingdom of Domini.

It was a super kingdom in the North, but its significance was immense—it served as the absolute physical headquarters for the Church of Damascus.

Mandraxx’s report confirmed that the church was currently in state of total disarray.

With Damascus’s divine thread severed and his vessel decapitated in Norona, his high inquisitors were panicking.

The Kingdom of Domini was teetering on the edge of a complete political breakdown.

For a brief second, Roy considered making a swift, aggressive push into the North to seize Domini while it was vulnerable.

However, he quickly erased the thought.

A super kingdom was still a powerful kingdom; it sat on a delicate web of regional treaties, surrounded by neighboring powers and rival churches.

A sudden takeover would draw the immediate, undivided scrutiny of the Northern Empires and the Church of Light.

It was a trap of high visibility.

Instead, Roy turned his gaze toward the Eastern Continents.

Mandraxx’s archives contained extensive records of massive beastman migrations heading toward the Eastern mountain ranges over the last century.

Millions of beastman clans, fleeing the brutal, systemic oppression of the human-dominated Western and Northern Continents, had sought refuge in the wild, sect-ruled wilderness of the East.

The Western Continents utterly despised beastmen, viewing them as nothing more than sub-human livestock or raw materials for magical alchemy—a bitter truth Duke Attaris Etho knew all too well from his time fleeing the Sun Church.

If Roy wanted to expand his divine foundation, harvest clean Faith Points, and fulfill his duty as the Apostle of the God of Beasts, the Eastern Continents were the ultimate target.

Roy slowly rolled up the parchment, the leather snapping tight.

He looked up, his gold-crimson flecked eyes sweeping over the quiet, tense council of Dukes.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the obsidian table.

”In a few weeks,” Roy spoke, his deep voice carrying an absolute, unyielding authority that resonated through the stone walls,

”A chosen vanguard—myself and select Dukes—will venture into the Eastern Continents.”

A quiet ripple of surprise passed through the assembly, but no one dared interrupt.

”We will not go to wage mindless war,” Roy continued, his eyes gleaming with a predator’s focus. ”We go to find our kin. We will liberate every beastman suffering under foreign rule, break their chains, and bring them home to this holy land.”

Roy paused, turning his sharp gaze directly toward Grand Chancellor Manuses.

”However, before we set foot beyond the Varanial Region, our home must be unbreakable,” Roy stated firmly. ”Within these next few weeks, Duke Manuses, you must break through your current bottleneck and evolve into a Martial Saint.”

Manuses’s eyes widened slightly, but he immediately lowered his head in a deep, resolute bow.

”I shall not fail you, Master Jarden.”

”High Priest Croak has already achieved the realm of a Martial Saint,” Roy added, glancing at the quiet, solemn priest. ”And the rest of you—every single Duke at this table—must devote every remaining hour to your cultivation.

You must grow stronger. The energy of this land is rich, our resources are overflowing, and I expect your realms to reflect the majesty of our kingdom.”

Roy stood up from his obsidian throne, his tall, crimson wolf-man form looming over the entire assembly hall.

”What we have accomplished in this desert was not the end,” Roy declared, his voice echoing like rolling thunder across the Supreme Assembly.

”It was merely the beginning.”

In unison, every Duke slammed their fists over their chests, dropping to one knee as their voices shook the chamber:

”Glory to the God of Beasts!”

”Glory to Varania!”i